Chapter 60 - Walk of shame

When the Transfer reached the station the heavy tension that lingered between us, weighed me down nearly suffocating me. I gave a quick glance at sleeping Demos on the seat. The passengers turned towards the exits, gathering their belongings.

"Mm, we've arrived," I turned to Grant. He got to his feet and picked up my bag. I felt bad letting him carry it. I didn't know where to put my hands and just shoved them in my pockets. The beast popped one eye open to peek at us. Then he stretched and hopped off the seat to follow us. The crowd parted on our way out. I kept my eyes on my shoes the whole time as we marched to our apartment. Oddly, Jil wasn't in the hall when we go in.

The door to the elevator closed on more awkward silence. I prayed that the tortured would end soon. However, the ride to our floor, the 30th, was the longest ever.

"Do you want me to cook something special for you?" asked Grant when the door chimed. I was so focused on the numbers flashing on the panel at the top of the door that I didn't hear him. He tapped a finger on my shoulder making me jumped.

"Yeah?" my head sprung at Demos still in his beast form. He exited the small cabin ignoring me. Grant tapped my shoulder again.

"What do you want for dinner?" he repeated. I blinked at him then turned to Demos who strode lazily to our door.

"Mm, I don't know. Just pick something. I don't really mind. Whatever is in the fridge, I guess," he nodded once and got off. I quickly tugged behind him.

-Can you hurry, I need to charge to be able to shift back.

Demos glared at me as I struggled with the door. Finally, when we all got inside the living room I gave a huge sigh of relief. This was a long day. The time, almost eleven, my stomach groaned in protest. Grant smiled as he placed my bag near the entrance. I wondered why I even brought it along. What was I thinking? What was in there, anyway?

"I'll make something light," Grant pulled his sleeves up and walked to the kitchen where he grabbed his pink apron. I stood there watching Demos as he entered his pod. His words echoed in my mind.

"I can't tell you."

What exactly couldn't he tell me? What was he hiding? He closed the door of his pod without sparing me a second of attention. Was he angry? My eyes followed Grant's movement as he opened the fridge.

"You-"

"You're going to take a shower first?" he looked up. His silver eyes piercing my very soul. He should know I was going to ask about Demos. He tilted his head to the side.

"You're tired, you should rest. I'll make soup, is that ok with you?" I took a little too long to nod. He paused with the fridge still open. "Give us a minute, we'll answer your questions," his tone was a little deeper than usual. Almost the same as Demos.

"O-ok," I slowly nodded.

Plates and cutleries clicked when I closed the door to my room behind me. I had an odd sensation I wouldn't be pleased with their explanation. Why were they all secretive? Weren't the mate thing and the sync all about trusting each other? I was supposed to hear their thoughts and them mine.

"Grant! Why isn't it working then?" I whispered to my empty room. I stopped next to the bed and listened. Yet no sound came from the other room. No whisper, nothing. I could perceive both of their presence. It was difficult to explain; like a thread linking us, a sensation of warmth and safety. Yet both were silent. Damn it!

"Are you giving me the silent treatment?" I listened again. Still, nothing. Furious I stomped to the bathroom and slammed the door behind me.

"I can't believe this!" I snapped at the reflection in the mirror. A pale girl with huge eyes stared back at me. Grabbing my glasses with both hands, I slipped it off and dropped it in the sink.

"Going there wasn't enough, now my own mates are ignoring me. Great! Just great!" I mumbled. I knew that talking to myself was a clear sign that I was going crazy. With a deep sigh, I took off my dirty clothes and found bruises on my back where I made contact with the ground. The fuzzy images of the struggle in the field came back to me. Getting beat up by a child, what a joke. I shook my head at my pitiful figure in the mirror. Get a grip, Liliane.

The hot water helped ease the tangled muscles. I admit feeling better after I washed my hair. I squeezed the blue bottle next to the soap bar and massaged my scalp. I don't remember buying vanilla shampoo. I quickly rinsed my hair and grabbed the bottle on my way out.

"That's not mine," I narrowed my eyes at it.

-Dinner is ready.

Grant's voice nearly made me drop the bottle. I yanked on the towel and wrapped it around me. All this time, he could hear me and yet he didn't answer. What the hell? I'm going to give him a taste of his own medicine. I got out of the bathroom, took all my time to get dress and dry my hair.

"Liliane?" he knocked on my door.

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at the door. I could feel him fidgeting on the other side. Served him right. He shouldn't ignore me.

"Just open the damn door, do you want to hear the whole story or not?" yelled Demos in an annoyed tone. I dashed towards it with clenched fists ready to beat his teeth in. The arrogant jerk. Where was my romantic bad boy? Since he got this job, he had been acting weird. Well, more than usual. With one movement I pulled the door and came face to face with Grant.

"Where the hell is he?" I hissed. Grant stepped aside giving me space to walk into the living room where Demos sat on his auto proclaimed throne. Demos, the tall handsome sin with a smirk plastered on his gorgeous lips. His human self. I slapped myself mentally for thinking that. The arrogant jerk shouldn't be praised.

"You can't get enough of that arrogant jerk, right?" his smile widened.

"Ah! I want to slap you," I glared at him. "But, I know somehow it will turn into some kinky play," he laughed throwing his head back. I pouted my lips, he was definitely enjoying this. I wanted answers not him toying with me. Demos patted the space next to him.

"Come, sit with me. I'll tell you a nice little tale," he face show a whole other story. "Come on, I don't bite," he grimaced flashing his prominent canines at me. I stood next to Grant not trusting him one second.

"Did they tampered with your programs at the police or something?" I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Go, I'll bring your dinner," Grant tipped his chin at Demos. My eyes darted from grinning Demos to serious Grant. Ok, he was telling me to trust Demos. The image of the bloody wolf slapped me across the face. No freaking way.

"I've told you... I'll never hurt you, didn't I?" Demos exhaled. He patted the spot next to him again. Reluctantly, I joined him on the couch. I sat with my spine rigid. He had both arms resting on the cushions with one, inches away from my shoulder. Grant came back with a bowl of steaming soup and some bread.

"Careful, it's hot," he placed it on the low coffee table and pulled a chair facing us.

"So, where do we start," I stared at him. The silence stretched for a moment then Grant cleared his throat.

"I don't think we should tell you," he gave a knowing look at Demos then turned back at me.

"Why?" I frowned. He sighed.

"Cause, it can be dangerous for you," I sprung to my feet enraged.

"Was the sync just bullshit?" I snapped. "You leered me into taking you in, you played pretend and not that I really love you...both of you! You're keeping stuff from me?" Grant opened his mouth then shut it.

"Liliane," called Demos is a low tone, almost menacing. "Sit... down," he said both words with force and authority. I peeked at him over my shoulder. His eyes were two dots of glowing blue flames. I shivered and sunk on the couch.

"Everything you'll hear need...must remain between those four walls. Your life depends on it...our lives depends on it. Even if Grant thinks it's too dangerous letting you in on this. I feel that one way or the other you'll get involved. Better be prepared than sorry," I slowly turned to face him. Demos' icy blue eyes gazed at me.

"Wh-what's going on?" I muttered. I didn't like the way this conversation was going.

"You wanted to know, right?" I nodded. "You'll probably regret it," he grinned. Grant leaned towards me and caught my hand in his.

"Liliane, if you trust us... you don't have to know. I mean, this whole story doesn't personally impact on your daily routine. You should let this matter in our hands and just trust us," his eyes were full of kindness. I frowned at him and turned to see Demos' reaction.

"I don't get it, just freaking tell me. You're scaring me," Demos tilted his head back, eyes glued to the ceiling. He let out a deep sigh. Grant tugged on my hand to get my attention.

"Liliane, you know me, right? You need to trust me," he begged. My heart hammered inside my chest. Something was wrong. I pulled my hand away from him.

"I want to know, now!" I shouted my hands into fists. He lowered his head.

"Very well," he said in a sad voice. He gave a quick peek at Demos before he began.

"Everything you thought you knew is only half of the story..."