The Cambion's Hoard
Chapter 3-Rose

There was wrapping on my car window, and I jumped. I’d slept in my car instead of going to my parent’s house. I’d rather they think I made it one day instead of a few hours. Then, pushing myself up, I looked out of my window. One of the twins was standing outside of my car. I slid across the seat and got out on the opposite side.

“Yes?” I didn’t know what to say. After calming down, I realized that slapping Thatcher had been a mistake. Was I going to apologize? Hell no. That didn’t mean I couldn’t regret it a little.

“What’s all this stuff?” He gestured to my back seat.

“It’s for Wallace. I’m going to fix that room up for him before I leave. Let Benny know what I did. After that, I will move back home and pay Wallace’s rent.” That was the only way I could accept to go back home.

He pulled his lips between his teeth and slowly let them go. “Let me help you carry these in.”

“I’m not sure if you’re Thatcher or Biggs. Either way, I will do it myself. I slapped Thatcher, and Biggs could take matters into his own hands.” I’d hate to think Biggs would pretend to get an apology for Thatcher like some sick joke. I always found the worst potential behavior for men.

“You slapped me. The first time it wasn’t for a pass. Caught me off guard. Let me help you carry it in.” Thatcher gestured towards the house.

I clenched my jaw and pursed my lips. “Fine.”

“Ok. But let’s take the back stairs. Biggs actually doesn’t want to see you come back. He’s always been the protective older brother.”

“By how much?” Fuck my curiosity.

“Seconds, he just hatched first.”

I thought about his words. They had hatched. I opened my mouth to ask more but stopped myself. I didn’t need to know about their birth, how that worked.

“But you two are identical.”

“So?”

“I have so many questions.”

He laughed. “I would be happy to answer them.”

Then it hit me, that nagging feeling this was a messed up form of retaliation. Men don’t let things like that slide. I had slapped him, pissed off his brother, and possibly humiliated him in front of their partner. So my guard went back up.

Thatcher grabbed the few big boxes from the back, and I took the bags and smaller packages. Thatcher pushed the hatch down and then led the way around the back. I was on edge. The cruelty and humiliation were coming. Others didn’t like humans, and men didn’t like women. Simple facts. I was two strikes in one tiny package.

Thatcher had me pause and walk next to him. He blocked my view of the kitchen, or maybe he was shielding me. He had said Biggs was pissed. We went up the stairs, and he pulled the sliding door open for me.

“You’ll have to unlock the door. But, unfortunately, we don’t have a key.”

I squeezed past him and headed for Wallace’s room. He intentionally gave me just enough room to get past him. He smelled like resin and ash. We walked past the bathroom, and I could hear the tub running. Well, at least they knew how to keep something clean.

When I walked into the room, I was surprised to see Wallace sitting on my trunk. He stood and stretched. His coat didn’t look as greasy as it had the previous day.

“Are you feeling better, Wallace? I went and got you some things. I have to get a few from Thatcher. I won’t let him in. He was nice enough to carry them up for me.” Setting my bags down, I turned to the door and went back into the hallway.

Thatcher was waiting patiently, and I took the boxes from him. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here. He would probably try and bite you.”

“Fair enough. If you need any help, let me know.” He walked away but turned right back around. “I could take the risk and help you. Yeah, know, since you kind of owes me in a way.”

There’s the other shoe. “What do I owe you for?”

“Well, I helped you carry this in and snuck you past my brother and my boyfriend, and you slapped me for no reason.” He stepped forward and held his hands out wide. His fingers were tipped with talons.

Thatcher was not going to threaten me. I inhaled deeply and put my hands on my hips. If my father taught me one thing, it was to stay in control of any situation. Wish I had remembered that last night.

“Oh, I should have figured it wasn’t out of remorse or the kindness of your heart. It’s always something. If I don’t give, you’ll take. If I don’t yield, you’ll keep pushing. I have precisely 2 impressions of you; each is a cocky bag of hot air. First, you can’t admit your own faults.” I stood up straighter. My father would always remind me that posture was essential to control.

Thatcher’s eyes held brief hesitation but steeled. “You really think you’re in the right here, don’t you?”

I wasn’t going to let him intimidate me. Closing the space between us, I pressed my chest to his. “Does it bother you that I called you out on your filth? That you think living in a glorified frat house is cool? I see the fault in touching you out of anger, but Wallace is suffering.”

Thatcher wrapped an arm around my waist and took my face with his other hand. Smoke seeped out of his nostrils. His eyes were gold, and I couldn’t tell where he looked. Thatcher closed his eyes, pressed his forehead to mine, and kneaded the back of my head.

“If you keep talking to me in that tone, I will not be held responsible for what I do.”

“Let me go, or I’ll let Biggs and Henson know I’m home.” I couldn’t let him see how afraid I was.

Thatcher let me go abruptly and backed up. “Fine. Have it your way, Miss.”

I grabbed the boxes in the hall and locked the door quickly behind me.