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  “And have you ever not been successful in holding the Angels back?”

  I was sure none of them had ever gotten as far as Ridgewood at any time, and I was hoping they’d never even gotten as far as Timberline. Being that I knew I’d never be any good at fighting them off, I hoped I’d never have to come face-to-face with any of them.

  To my relief, Jim shook his head. “No. No Angel has ever broken past our line of defense. Not one time, ever, even though they try, and try, and try. And as long as I’m alive and breathing, they never will. If I allowed that to happen, if I allowed them to get past us and head south into the rest of the state, there might not be any turning back. Then, all the cities in the state, or at least many of them, would fall to the Angels, and become one of their sovereign city-states of sorts, like what’s happened in Chicago. People would have to flee... numerous lives would be lost...” Pausing, Jim gave his head a quick shake. “No. No Angel has ever broken past our defenses, and it’s my job to make sure they never do. Right now, they have their stronghold in the northernmost tip of the state, which they claimed when they were chased out of Canada, and they’re holding on to that little stronghold, which is fine, but they will never get past us. To the west and east, we have a line of shifters—thousands of them—basically holding a permanent line of defense, a line that pushes the Angels to us here in Timberline, to us strongest shifters and all you Gifteds.”

  “But, how long can everyone sustain that? Wouldn’t it just be easier to attack the Angels in their stronghold and kill them all at once?”

  Jim shook his head. “That’s impossible for two reasons. Reason one is that before he died, Alistair Jordan, the former leader of the Angels, who set the whole Takeover in motion, was able to cast some sort of a spell or enchantment around the northernmost tip of the state, and this spell didn’t break even when he died. And now, no non-Angel can break through to that last maybe mile-long stretch of land. It’s as if there’s an enchanted wall keeping us out, and it may never be broken, even once the last Angel on earth is dead, whenever that may be. The second reason we can never directly attack the Angels, even were there no mystical wall keeping us out, is that they have women and children with them. Not many, it doesn’t seem as if many of the sorcerers were married before the Takeover, but enough women and children that it would be hard to avoid sustaining casualties in the crossfire of a battle, something we’d obviously never want to do. So, we just hold the line here in Timberline, trying to kill as many Angels as possible each time they attack, while trying to keep everyone in the state safe. And as far as your first question, we can and will sustain our defense of Michigan as long as we need to, until, over time, every last Angel to the north dies in trying to attack us. Though even then, I have a feeling that more will replace them. I think us shifters and Gifteds are always going to be needed in Timberline.”

  We’d reached the bar, which was a large, single-story log cabin-type structure with a wide front porch already filled with party-goers. As Jim and I approached, there had been sounds of loud talking and laughing, but now that we’d come to a stop maybe twenty feet from the porch, just close enough that people could see us in the glow of a floodlight near the roof, all the noise had kind of died down. Now the only sound was primarily music coming from inside the bar.

  Jim gave my hand a squeeze. “Ready to go meet everyone?”

  I nodded. I was at least ready to not talk about the Angels anymore, because I was ready to stop thinking about how, in the future, Jim was surely going to try to coax me into using my power against them.

  Once we’d ascended the three stairs and stepped out onto the wood-planked porch, the twenty or so party-goers seemed to find their voices again, some of them resuming their conversations, and some of them greeting Jim and me. Jim introduced me to several of them, and I noticed that it was true what people said about shifters. They were all very attractive men. None of them came close to Jim’s looks, though, at least not to me.

  Several of the Gifteds I was introduced to were also very attractive, but a few of them leaned more toward the average side of looks, which I was glad about. I’d never been incredibly insecure or anything about my own looks, yet I knew it would be easy to become that way in a village filled with all supermodel-looking women.

  All the Gifteds I met were fairly warm and friendly to me, though I couldn’t help but notice some of them blatantly looking at my hand, which was still being held by Jim’s. Though even still, I didn’t take this as rudeness, just undisguised curiosity.

  Once inside the bar, which was pretty much just a massive cabin with an open floor plan and a dozen or so tables and a bar with stools, Jim and I, and specifically, our clasped hands, received more looks of undisguised curiosity. I’d had to let go of his hand in order to shake hands with some of the people out on the porch, but on our way inside, he’d taken my hand again.

  After several moments, once everyone in the dimly-lit bar had seemed to get over their initial shock, Jim and I were kind of mobbed, as if we were celebrities or something. More people than I could count introduced themselves to me and welcomed me to Timberline, and I shook numerous hands. But after each time, Jim just took my hand again, as if he was really enjoying the experience of holding my hand and didn’t want it to end.

  After a few minutes, though, it was clear that he did want the meet-and-greet to end. Speaking in a low voice near my ear once a wave of greeters had left, he asked if I’d like to dance. A slow song was blaring from speakers suspended from the two walls of a wood-planked dance floor in one corner of the bar, and several couples were already on the dance floor, swaying to the music.

  I knew dancing with Jim wasn’t something a person determined not to get too close to him should do, but I just couldn’t stop myself from saying yes anyway.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I couldn’t stop myself from accepting Jim’s offer of a dance because the feel of his hand, and the feel of his thumb slowly caressing the back of my hand, was really having an effect on my brain. Specifically, it was seeming to short-circuit all parts of my brain responsible for reasoning and logic.

  So, I soon found myself out on the dance floor with Jim, with my arms around his neck, his hands at the small of my back, and our bodies swaying gently. We didn’t even speak at first, just looked into each other’s eyes, both of us kind of smiling a bit, or maybe fighting smiles was more like it. I personally was fighting not to grin like an idiot. I’d discovered that Jim’s fresh-out-of-the-shower scent was just as heavenly as his carrying-a-woman-up-the-lane scent, and it was making me a bit giddy. It was the same scent as far as masculine woodsy, musky, leathery notes, but with an added hint of soap. It was something I knew I could be very happy smelling all night. Maybe I could even be very happy smelling it for the rest of my life, I thought, as crazy a thought as that was. I knew that first, before I had any forward-thinking thoughts, we’d have to come to an agreement about me joining in training exercises with the rest of the Timberliners. And by agreement, I was really thinking along the lines of Jim agreeing to not join in. In the present moment, though, I’d decided to just allow myself to enjoy slow dancing with him. Leading with strong, sure steps, he was now pulling me a bit closer, and I found that I couldn’t resist even if I’d wanted to. The feel of his hard chest against the softness of mine felt far too incredible.

  When the song was maybe halfway over, Jim spoke in a low voice near my ear. “I’m not sure that I’ve ever danced with such a beautiful woman before. In fact, I’m sure I haven’t. I feel like the luckiest man alive right now.”

  Now I stopped fighting my smile; I just gave into it. “So, you really like the way I look wearing an outfit a little dressier than just a sweatshirt or pajamas?”

  Jim’s delectable lips curved in a half-grin. “You’d look beautiful dressed in a potato sack. But, yes, I think you look especially beautiful tonight. I felt like I got the wind knocked out of me when I saw you, and it’s not easy to knock the wind out of a s
hifter. We’re supposed to be pretty tough and strong. Not men who turn to pudding after just once glance at a beautiful woman.”

  Leaning into Jim even a little further, I laughed. “‘Pudding,’ huh? I’m going to remember that if I ever see you in bear form. I’m going to think, ‘Oh, look. There goes Jim. Everyone thinks he looks so fierce, but I know he’s really just full of pudding.’”

  Smiling, Jim tightened his hold around my waist, bringing our lower bodies together. “Around you, I am. You can just call me Pudding Bear.”

  I laughed again. “Or, maybe just PB for short. After all, you seemed to enjoy calling me BB PJs.”

  “Oh, yeah. Thanks for reminding me about that, BB PJs. But maybe now, we’ll shorten that to match with my nickname. We’ll be BB and PB. How’s that sound?”

  Anything and everything was starting to sound great to me, and I was pretty sure it would continue to do so as long as I was in Jim’s arms.

  “Sounds great to me, PB.”

  “Good, BB.”

  Teasing, joking, and laughing, we danced through the rest of the song, then continued dancing while another slow song began playing. Several times, Jim twirled me before taking me back in his arms, and several times I caught possibly envious looks from other women on the dance floor. Being with Jim, I was starting to feel very much like the belle of the ball.

  After the second song ended, two women hopped up on a small stage adjacent to the bar and began taking requests for a karaoke duet. Jim asked if I’d like to take a break from dancing for something to eat, and I said yes.

  “Seems like this might be a good time, and besides, maybe we should check on the ham-and-pineapple pizza supply. I kind of forgot about that, and something tells me Jen’s not going to be too happy if it’s all gone by the time she gets here.”

  Against the back wall, behind all the tables, was a long buffet-style table filled with pizza boxes, and there we found Jen, actually already happily munching a slice of her favorite pizza. With her eyeliner heart still on her cheek, she greeted Jim and me with hugs, then asked if we’d eaten yet. When we said that we hadn’t, she told us to start digging in.

  “There’s not much pizza left, and you guys are gonna get stuck with just crusts! Probably mine, because I pretty much just eat the toppings part of the pizza.”

  After squeezing my hand, smiling, Jim said he’d go get us a few beers. While I watched him walk away, studying his broad back, muscular shoulders, and tight rear, Jen grabbed a plate and started piling it with pizza, saying part of a best friend’s job was to load up plates sometimes. I smiled at her but then went back to taking glances at Jim while trying not to be obvious about it. From the looks of it, several women near him at the bar were doing the same thing, giving him quick little glances from under their lashes. However, he didn’t return any of their glances, just seeming intent on getting our beers. This looked like it was going to take him a minute, though. A few men had slid off their bar stools and had come over to talk to him, and I knew he might have to make a little conversation with his friends in order not to seem rude.

  Jen soon finished loading up my plate, along with another for Jim, and she and I took a seat at an empty table to wait for him.

  After dashing over to the buffet again and returning with two cans of pop, Jen gave me a comically obvious wink. “Don’t worry. I’ll scoot right on up and out of here when Jim gets back. I know three people is too many people for a private date. Unless you want me to follow you guys around all night and be your official person to put your hands together to make you guys hold hands all night.”

  I laughed. “Well, thanks, but that’s okay. I think we might do okay holding hands on our own from now on.”

  Jen shrugged, smiling. “Well, all right. If you say so.”

  Still smiling, she cracked open a can of pop, but then her expression changed to one more somber. To me, it looked like she’d suddenly become troubled about something. After she’d taken a sip of pop, I asked her if anything was wrong, and she shrugged for the second time.

  “Well, I’m just deciding whether to ask you something. It has to do with why I brought two pops over here.”

  “Well, you can ask me anything. Just go ahead.”

  “All right, well... see how everyone in here is drinking beers, but I can’t, like I’m some sort of weird, lame baby?”

  I could see where this was going.

  “That’s not because you’re a ‘weird, lame baby.’ That’s just because you’re not old enough to drink alcohol yet.”

  “Yeah. But I still feel lame and dumb. But you know what might make me feel better?”

  “If someone drank pop along with you?”

  Eyes wide, Jen just stared at me for a long moment. “Whoa. I think that was best friend telepathy!”

  I laughed, cracked open a can of pop, and took a sip. “I’d be glad to drink pop along with you if it’ll make you feel better.”

  “And do you promise to drink only pop all night? Just so I’ll never be the only one drinking just pop?”

  Really wanting a beer, I hesitated for just a second or two. “Sure.”

  Grinning, Jen clinked her can with mine. “Awesome. Thanks, BB PJs.”

  I laughed. “Just so you know, my nickname has officially been shortened to just BB, by Jim.”

  Jen grinned. “Awesome. A toast to BB, and pop drinking.”

  She clinked her can with mine again, and we both took drinks.

  When Jen set her can down, she abruptly changed the subject from nicknames and pop. “So, do you know why people are kind of freaking out in here tonight?”

  People seemed to be having a good time, dancing, drinking at the bar, and eating at the tables around us, but I hadn’t been aware of anyone really “freaking out.”

  In response to Jen, I shook my head. “No. Why?”

  “Well, people are freaking out because you and Jim showed up holding hands. And it’s mostly girls who are freaking out because so many girls here in Timberline have big crushes on Jim, even a lot of girls with boyfriends do, but he’s never picked a girl to be his girlfriend here before, and he’s never even acted like he’s had a crush on any girl here before in the whole year since this place got started. So now, people are freaking out because the two of you showed up holding hands, even though you basically just came here to town. And girls are whispering all this stuff you can’t hear to each other, like, ‘Did you see them holding hands?’ and ‘Look at how close they’re dancing!’ All that stuff is basically making them sound like sixth-graders, which is pretty funny, because everyone always calls me immature. All these girls are in their twenties, and some of them are even in their low thirties. So, now who’s the immature one? Not me, right? It’s not me right now.”

  I smiled and agreed.

  “Oh, and you know what’s a cool thing I just thought of?”

  “What?”

  “Well, it was me who had the idea for you and Jim to hold hands, and I’m the one who even actually made it happen by just going ahead and doing it myself, so basically, since everyone’s freaking out about you guys holding hands, basically everyone’s freaking out about me.”

  I didn’t quite get Jen’s logic, but I got it well enough. Was tickled by it, even. I got the feeling that the things that tickled me about Jen and made me really like her were precisely the things that annoyed her sister most.

  In response to what Jen had said about people freaking out about her, I nodded, again smiling. “I think you’re right. In an indirect, yet kind of direct way, you definitely had a big hand in all the freaking out going on here tonight.”

  I’d thought Jen might smile in return, but instead, she just looked at me for a long moment, with her expression one of complete seriousness.

  “Avery, can we not only be best friends, but can you also be my sister, too, instead of Annie?”

  With my heart instantly melting, I reached across the small, circular table and gave her hand a little squeeze. “I tell you what
. From this moment on, we are officially soul sisters. And soul sisters are very special, because you’re not just born with them, you actually choose them.”

  Jen grinned just about from ear-to-ear. “I like this. I really, really like this!”

  Just then, Jim returned with two bottles of beer and took a seat beside me.

  Just as she’d said she’d do, Jen immediately hopped up and began leaving the table, giving me another comically obvious wink. “Bye for now, soul sister and pop sister!”

  I winked back, smiling.

  With his dark green eyes twinkling, Jim gave me a quizzical look. “What’s a ‘pop sister?’”

  “Oh, thanks for bringing me a beer, and a beer does sound great, but I promised Jen I’d only drink pop tonight, so she’s not the only one in here drinking only pop. She feels a little embarrassed about it. So, we’re ‘pop sisters,’ which I don’t mind at all, since it seemed to make her feel better. I can have a beer any old night.”

  With his expression unreadable, Jim just looked at me for a long moment, then took my hand. “You’re really a very kind woman, Avery.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was because of the touch of his hand, or what he’d said, or both, but my face suddenly became very warm.

  “Thank you.”

  With his mouth curving in a slight half-grin, Jim gave my hand a squeeze before releasing it to pick up a slice of pizza. Soon after, conversation at all the other tables around us seemed to pick up again, a low hum beneath the fairly loud karaoke music still coming from the stage adjacent to the bar. This didn’t surprise me, since I’d been able to feel many sets of eyes on us when Jim had taken my hand.

  We’d each only just finished our first slices of pizza when everyone around us seemed to hush again. But this time, it didn’t seem to be because of us. A tall, muscular man with reddish-brown hair had come into the bar, had a quick look around, and then started making a beeline for Jim, striding so fast his pace was really a near-run.