Vars gave a frantic nod and kissed the huge cheekbone. Despite its appearance, Jake’s gargoyle skin was pleasant to the touch, somewhat dusty yet warm like a heater.
“Yes. In the morning you’ll be yourself again, but you can’t stay here. Let’s go home.”
Jake whined louder, but more steps were approaching, and Vars heard Beast even before he saw him. “I’ve got a job for you, Vars.”
Laurent gingerly approached Jake and placed a blanket over the massive shoulders.
Chapter 19 - Vars
The trip back to the clubhouse felt like a walk of shame, even though both Laurent and Beast seemed so full of understanding. But then maybe it was because, as Jake was finding out, they weren’t strangers to demonic forces. The blanket was too small for Jake’s enormous shoulders, and kept sliding off, so eventually Laurent took it back, but Jake was quite warm anyway, and what he really appreciated was the gesture. It was the pain in his wing, a strange feeling considering it felt like a limb that he didn’t have in his human form, that was the biggest nuisance. On the other hand, the place where Damon’s bullet had grazed Jake’s human arm didn’t hurt at all, just throbbing with heat somewhere under the gargoyle scales.
Vars walked under his arm, as if Jake needed physical support, but the offer of help was welcome. Finding out that Vars was undead hadn’t freaked Jake out as much as it should have. Maybe it was because all of this still felt like a dream, or maybe because it was difficult to shock someone trapped in the form of a gargoyle.
It was selfish, so he wouldn’t say it even if forming words were an option, but he was glad that Vars was also somewhat inhuman, imperfect in his back-from-the-dead form. Maybe he worried about falling apart the way Jake feared the monster within him? Whatever the case was, Jake would be there for Vars.
If Damon literally killed Vars, Jake could forgive the order Vars gave Azog on impulse. All that mattered was that Jake trusted Vars to never do so again, because Vars knew the stakes for Jake.
The way Vars had reacted when Jake tried to shave his beard, or how he had panicked in the lake, both slotted into place with the newfound knowledge. Damon was the cause of it all and it filled Jake with such rage he’d rip the fucker apart given half the chance.
Jake didn’t know what to expect inside, and as they stepped closer to the clubhouse, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he’d ruined the wedding reception of two of his best friends, who so far hadn’t expressed any grudge about it at all, even if Laurent’s face was clearly tense from reining in his emotions.
All the patches waited for him in the common room, gathered around the coffee table with hot cider that must have somehow survived the carnage of Azog crashing the reception. Elliot was there too, and he rose from Knight’s lap as soon as Jake came in, carefully sliding through the doorway to avoid hurting himself further.
The silence was so profound Jake stopped in his tracks and looked at his feet, black and with huge claws.
“Are you sure this is safe?” Elliot asked, wide-eyed as he backed off toward the kitchen.
Knight rolled his eyes, helplessly sinking into the sofa. He was trying to keep his face steady, but Jake knew no one here really wanted to see him like this. He should have stayed behind until dawn instead of making all the people he cared about so uncomfortable.
“It’s safe. It’s just our Jake. He only lost control for a few moments—” Vars said reassuringly, but Fox cut him off immediately.
“My sister-in-law twisted her ankle.”
“He didn’t mean it, okay? Do you think he enjoys this?” Vars pressed on.
Jake gave a deep sigh and sat on the rug by the fireplace, wishing to be out of everyone’s way. Even in the middle of the floor he felt oversized for the space, an ugly, unwanted thing in a room full of well-dressed people. He didn’t deserve a patch.
He curled his shoulders, trying to make himself smaller, to hide and stop imposing on everyone, but Gray pushed one of the sofas aside so that Jake was included in the horseshoe shape created by chairs and couches. Moments later, Laurent placed a cup of steaming chocolate in front of Jake. After a moment’s hesitation though, Laurent poured it into a bowl instead.
“It’s got rum, it will warm you up.”
Hound approached with a tap of his paws, pushing his muzzle toward the bowl, eager to get his fill before Jake, but Laurent patiently pushed him away. After several tries, the dog harrumphed and lay down next to Jake, although he kept ogling the bowl.
Beast stripped off his winter jacket. “We’re lucky no one was seriously hurt. Where is everyone? What have you told them?”