Page 10 of Bitter Heat
Janus sucked in a breath and pride surged in Kerry to have knocked the confidence out of him.
As Kerry took the stairs back up to his room and Kiwi, he noted a small, stubborn flare of new curiosity in his chest. What was the measure of this alpha?
With Kiwi in his palm again, Kerry sat on the windowsill to watch and wait. He wondered if Janus would still dare to go on his walk at all.
When Janus exited the side of the house bearing a handheld flashlight and heading down the right-handed path, Kerry stroked Kiwi’s feathers and whispered, “Well, then.”
A dart of satisfaction pierced his numb hide.
CHAPTER THREE
Janus used towrestle alphas twice his size for great sums of cash, but these days he didn’t trust his strength to wrestle a small omega, much less a wild cat. He stayed on the dark path Kerry had suggested and didn’t place a foot off it.
He didn’t know why he’d been so determined to go on a walk, alone in the dark on unfamiliar property. He just knew that reading in the—admittedly quite comfortable looking—living room wasn’t something he could stand to do after enduring the weird tension over dinner. Besides, his whole body ached after the long day spent first on the train and then in a hot, rickety wagon. Returning to his rented bedroom to pore over his books in an anxious attempt to jam as much into his brain as possible before meeting with Dr. Crescent in the morning sounded far too stressful. He needed to stretch his legs a bit.
The night was cool, and the moon rose brighter than the flashlight he waved ahead of him on the trail. Shaking off wariness, he strode with satisfaction, claiming this land as his to roam for the duration of his stay. His eyes and ears absorbed the sights and sounds of the world around him, so different from the city. All of nature wrapped up in shadowy wonder.
The forest chattered with the croak of frogs, the night rustles of birds and the constant rhythmic chant of the cicadas. As he walked, the fresh air cleared his thoughts, and he relaxed. Images bloomed across his mind’s eye, all fresh memories—the breeze tugging through Kerry’s long hair, first on the porch and then by the window. It’d been a sight to see, the way Kerry’s hair had moved in the air currents like it’d had a life of its own. And then there’d been his scent…
Janus’s blood quickened.
There was no doubt Kerry was pretty. Almost as pretty as his bird.
But Janus shook that observation off. Handsome or not, Janus was trying to avoid entanglements, not dive headfirst into one. He focused his thoughts instead on the mountain community he’d glimpsed while the wagon jostled him as it climbed the rugged dirt roads. The mountains were alive with humanity tucked into the road’s hairpin turns and hollows.
Hud’s Basin was like stepping back in time. That was the only way Janus could think to describe it, and he decided to do just that in his first letter to Caleb. Additionally, there was no phone at Monk’s House. He’d ascertained that earlier when he’d come downstairs, found dinner not quite ready, and so had thought to place a quick call to let his uncle know he’d arrived safely.
“The mail comes every second day,” Zeke had said with a vague air of apology as he’d checked the pot pie’s crust. “Mayhap a letter will do just as well?”
“No bother. I’ll just call from Dr. Crescent’s tomorrow.”
“I doubt that,” Zeke said with amusement in his tone.
“He has a phone, surely?”
“Why would ya think that?”
“Well, to receive calls from patients requiring his help.”
Zekehadlaughed at him then. Not unkindly, just the tender-hearted snicker of an older man looking at a young fool. “And what phones are those sick patients going to use to call Dr. Crescent with, I wonder? The ones tucked up in the birds’ nests all around the forest? No, Mr. Heelies. We don’t have phone lines up this way. No one wants to pay to run them, you see.”
Janus knew he should have been offended by Zeke making fun of him, but really, how could he be? He was spoiled, and it was a shame. This was the way the world worked for most people—alphas, omegas, and betas alike—and the fact that it seemed foreign to him was both a gift and a burden.
So, he’d write letters to his uncle and Caleb tomorrow. He’d tell them both about the beautiful but horribly bumpy ride up the mountain, and the state of the boarding house. But he’d only tell Caleb about the omega he’d met and the strange draw that tugged at him while simultaneously pushing him away. Of course, he’d assure Caleb he had no intention of seducing the man. None whatsoever.
He only wondered what it was that made Kerry seem so angry. And afraid. And vulnerable. And lovely. Kerry was a beautiful man posing as a mystery to be solved. Who didn’t love a mystery?
Janus came to the end of the path and stepped onto the sandy beach by the side of the lake. It wasn’t quite full dark yet, and the moon reflected in the water beautifully. The star beside the moon—wolf-god’s own dimple—glinted in the reflection, too.
The water lapped at the edge of the land, making small, wet sounds of invitation. Janus stretched his arms up, rolling his shoulders around. It was a cool enough night, but he was sticky from his travels. The wagon he’d ridden in had left him dusty. He’d washed his hands and face before dinner, but nothing else. So, he was gummy now and, frankly, prickly from the small embarrassments he’d endured under the watchful eyes of Kerry and Zeke. Oh, these mountain people. They’d put him in his place yet. He had no doubt.
Yes. A swim would do him good.
He toed off his shoes, the very ones that Zeke had found so noteworthy, and shucked his shirt. His pants and underwear came off easily, and he strode to the empty, open, welcoming lake with a quiver of joy. It was a homecoming, slipping naked into the water. Not too frigid after a day in the sun, but the chill was still a balm on his hot skin. He pushed out far enough that his feet no longer touched. Then he floated on his back. The sky above opened to him—stars winking on one-by-one like a string of electric lights in the city.
Perhaps he’d been an idiot to be surprised that Dr. Crescent wasn’t a licensed physician. Perhaps he should care about that more than he did. No doubt Caleb’s Urho would have words to say—and unflattering ones at that, rule-abiding alpha that he was. But Janus didn’t really care. If Dr. Crescent had the trust of the mountain people, then that was what mattered most. If Urho came up to Hud’s Basin, he’d scare everyone away with his glower. But this Dr. Crescent had convinced these men to trust him and let him stay. Janus would learn his tricks and teach him some things, too. Together they’d make changes around here. Slow ones, but good ones. They’d get that paternal death rate down for one thing, and then they’d both be hailed as heroes.
He smirked.
