Free Werewolves & Wisteria by A. L. Tyler Page A

him.”
    That issue, combined with Stark’s accusation that Charlie was a perpetual liar, wasn’t going to rest in my mind until I had brought it to light.
    “I trust her,” I said. “But like I said, it’s there if you want it.”
    He turned back to the television, but didn’t skip a beat in the conversation. “Charlie said that you might care more than average if I killed myself.”
    I opened my mouth to call Charlie a liar, but I couldn’t do it. “When did he say that?”
    “When I picked up a knife to butter my toast this morning. He’s not exactly subtle.” Vince glanced over and smirked. “I said I didn’t think you would. We’ve been just friends for years.”
    This time, he waited. And waited. I had to say something.
    “Yup.”
    “Annie…”
    I looked over at him, and before I could stop myself, I leaned over to peck him on the cheek. I got up from the couch and walked briskly to the door, blushing like mad as I turned back to him to say goodnight.
    He was still sitting on the couch, his somber expression a contradiction to the playfulness in his eyes.
    “Why did you do that?” he asked. “Now it’s going to be ten times worse if I kill myself.”
    “Goodnight, Vince.”
    I turned and left, but there was too much residual adrenaline in my veins to go to bed. I went to the little library that Charlie had installed for me. I picked a book and settled onto the chaise, waiting for sleepiness to take over, but it didn’t.
    My classes the next day didn’t start until late, and I wanted to drive out to the greenhouse to check on things for Lyssa, but I was won over by the thought that I could stay up late and sleep in.
    I wandered out to the living room and found Charlie sitting alone on the couch, watching late night television with a glazed expression. He blinked his feline eyes and the channel changed.
    “Can’t sleep?” he asked. “Gates was on the news today. She and her mom got two minutes on the seven o’clock broadcast. Everyone loves a happy ending.”
    “Is Martha around?”
    “Asleep,” Charlie said, flicking one ear. “And you really shouldn’t let strays follow you home. That could have ended badly today.”
    I took a deep breath and sighed. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. Did you recognize Walter when we first met him?”
    “I had never met Walter before,” Charlie replied. Then he looked over at me. “But that isn’t what you’re asking. Did Stark get to you?”
    I considered how much I wanted to say, but I figured that lying wouldn’t do much good. If he wanted to read my thoughts, he would do it. “He said you’ve got a thing about werewolves.”
    Charlie turned back to the television, but then shut it off. He faced me properly before answering. A table lamp turned on, and I blinked against the bright light.
    “That’s true,” he said. “A pack killed my first bridge.”
    “The old woman?” I asked. “Why?”
    “She tried to help one of them who had been wounded. When she failed, the pack retaliated,” he said. “She died screaming. I was only a child, and it terrified me, and I didn’t know how to help her. And yes, I’m still more than convinced that keeping Vince around is a bad idea. Werewolves are known for being quick to rage, and I would rather not relive that experience. I will kill him if it comes down to that.”
    “You’ve killed a lot of werewolves.” It wasn’t a question.
    Charlie didn’t deny it. “I did a lot of things under Stark’s guidance that I’ve come to regret, Annie, and I take responsibility for all of them. I’ve killed hundreds of them, and not always to protect those who couldn’t defend themselves. I promise you that I will not kill Vince unless I see no other way.”
    I nodded. “Thank you.”
    He blinked, and the light went off and the television came back on. “You should have gone for the lips. He would have kissed you back.”
    My eyes flashed. “You told him I have a crush on him. Don’t talk about that