I opened the door for them but stayed in the living room while Warren continued up the stairs. Samuel waited with me.
Warren's half of the duplex had more square footage than my trailer, but between the small rooms and the stairways, my house always felt bigger to me.
He'd furnished the house comfortably with garage-sale finds and bookcases filled eclectically with everything from scientific texts to worn paperbacks bearing thrift-store price tags on the spines.
Samuel settled on the good side of the plush sofa and stretched out his legs. I turned away from him and thumbed through the nearest bookcase. I could feel his gaze on my back, but I didn't know what he was thinking.
"Oh, Mercy," sighed a soft voice. "This one is pretty. Why aren't you flirting with him?"
I looked at the kitchen doorway to see Kyle, Warren's current lover, leaning against the doorway of the kitchen in a typical Kyle pose designed to show off the toned body and tailored clothes.
The pose was deceptive; like Kyle's lowered eyelids and pouty, Marilyn Monroe expression, it was designed to hide the intelligence that made him the highest-paid divorce attorney in town. He told me once that being openly g*y was as good for his business as his reputation as a shark. Women in the middle of a divorce tended to prefer dealing with him even over female lawyers.
Samuel stiffened and gave me a hard look. I knew what it meant: he didn't want a human involved in werewolf business. I ignored him; unfortunately Kyle didn't-he read the disapproval and mistook its cause.
"Good to see you," I said. "This is an old friend visiting from Montana." I didn't want to get too detailed, because I thought it was up to Warren how much he told Kyle. "Samuel, this is Kyle Brooks. Kyle, meet Dr. Samuel Cornick."
Kyle pushed himself off the doorframe with his shoulders and strolled into the living room. He stopped to kiss me on the cheek, then sat down on the sofa as close to Samuel as he could get.
It wasn't that he was interested in Samuel. He'd seen Samuel's disapproval and had decided to exact a little revenge. Warren usually retreated from the frowns of others or ignored them. Kyle was a different kettle of fish entirely. He believed in making the bastards squirm.
I'd like to say that he had a chip on his shoulder, but he had no way of knowing that it wasn't his sexual orientation causing Samuel's reaction. Warren hadn't told him he was a werewolf. It was strongly discouraged to discuss the matter with anyone other than permanent mates-and to werewolves that meant male and female pairings-and the punishment for disobedience was harsh. Werewolves don't have jails. The people who break their laws are either punished physically or killed.
To my relief, Samuel seemed more amused than offended by Kyle's blatant come-on. When Warren came down the stairs, he paused a little at the sight of Kyle's hand on Samuel's thigh. When he started down again, his movements were easy and relaxed, but I could smell the tension rising in the air. He was not pleased. I couldn't tell if he was jealous or worried for his lover. He didn't know Samuel, but he knew, better than most, what the reaction of most werewolves would be.
"Kyle, it might be a good idea to take a few days and check out the state of your house." Warren's tone was even, but his drawl was gone.
Kyle had his own house, an expensive place up on one of the hills in West Richland, but he'd moved in with Warren when Warren had refused to move in with him. At Warren's words, he stilled.
"I'm hiding someone for a few days," Warren explained. "It's not illegal, but it won't be safe here until he's gone."
Samuel might have turned invisible for all the attention Kyle paid him. "Darling, if you don't want me around, I'm gone. I suppose I'll accept Geordi's invitation for Thanksgiving, shall I?"
"It's just for a couple of days," said Warren, his heart in his eyes.
"This have something to do with what you've been so upset about the past couple of days?"
Warren glanced at Samuel, then nodded once, quickly.
Kyle stared at him for a moment, then nodded back. "All right. A couple of days. I'll leave my stuff here."
"I'll call you."
"You do that."
Kyle left, closing the door behind him gently.
"You need to tell him," I urged. "Tell him the whole thing or you're going to lose him." I liked Kyle, but more than that, a blind person could have seen that Warren really loved him.
Warren gave a pained half laugh. "You think he'd be overjoyed to hear that he was sleeping with a monster? Do you think that would make everything okay?" He shrugged and tried to pretend it didn't matter. "He'll leave me one way or another anyway, Mercy. He graduated from Cornell and I work nights at a gas station. Hardly a match made in Heaven."
"I've never seen that it bothered him," I said. "He bends over backwards to keep you happy. Seems to me that you might give him a little something back."
"It's forbidden," Samuel said, but he sounded sad. "He can't tell him."
"What do you think Kyle'd do," I said indignantly. "Tell everyone that Warren's a werewolf? Not Kyle. He didn't get where he is by shooting off his mouth-and he's not the kind of person to betray anyone. He's a lawyer; he's good at keeping secrets. Besides, he's got too much pride to allow himself to be just another tabloid headline."
"It's all right, Mercy." Warren patted me on my head. "He hasn't left me yet."
"He will if you have to keep lying to him," I said.
The two werewolves just looked at me. Warren loved Kyle, and he was going to lose him because someone had decided you had to be married before you told your spouse what you were-as if that wasn't a recipe for disaster.