21. Onwards to the Battlefield- I Mean Party

Aster informed me Jett was waiting outside for me and darted out my window shortly after (why everybody was boycotting doors was beyond me), leaving me alone with my nerves. I knew I looked good, but it felt weird. Unnatural. What if I tripped in the heels? What if my dress caught on something and one of the slits tore all the way up? The embarrassing possibilities were endless, replaying themselves over and over in my head.
I stuck Alpha's spy device in my drawer then fumbled with my keys, having to pick them up twice when they slipped from my shaky hands. It wasn't until a few deep breaths later that I finally managed to lock our apartment.
Reduced to this after that bold declaration, I was glad Aster wasn't around to see me. Now to get myself together by the time I got outside...
I thought about what angle I'd draw Aster's face, the dress and the background. How many shadows to cast, the lighting, the lines on the dress and the different colors I'd use. I allowed myself two minutes of this line of thinking and when I patted my hair, my hands were steadier.
I went down the steps as carefully as possible, gloved hand slowly trailing down the wooden railing. By the time I reached the foyer I was- thankfully- more gathered. Maybe I could get through the rest of the night.
"My goodness, look at you!"
I jerked, then my brain worked out whose voice had spoken. With an exhale, I turned to give my elderly neighbor a sheepish smile. "You gave me a scare there, Mrs. Bonnet. I'm all nerves tonight."
She waved a slightly wrinkled hand, rolling her eyes at me. "You'll be leaving a trail of broken hearts tonight, honey. Nothing to be nervous of."
I smiled. "If you say so then I guess there's no arguing."
She raised her chin, silver curls bouncing across her shoulders. "Of course, I'm always right, sweetie."
I chuckled. "I know. I've got to get going, have a pleasant evening."
She grabbed my wrist when I started to turn, her hazel eyes wide, voice lowering. "You be careful, there's been this frightening young man outside for some time now. If he does anything remotely strange just scream, I'll be there in a jiffy."
Scary man. I'm guessing that would be Jett.
I studied the shorter woman curiously, Mrs. Bonnet was nearing sixty but appeared to be in her early fifties at first glance. She was the fittest old woman I knew, went for both morning and evening jogs every day. She was a sweet woman but wasn't at all helpless- I'd witness her temper on one occasion, during the first month my mom and I moved in.

**Past**
*It was well past midnight but I could hear small scratching sounds. They were faint, hardly anything I would've even noticed if it'd been daylight, but at that time of night even familiar sounds morphed into something foreign. And that scratching wasn't anything I was familiar with. I threw back my blankets and treaded over to the living room, avoiding the shadowy outlines that were furniture. The metal baseball bat in my hand reminded me of Steve from Stranger Things and without thinking, I swung it in an arc the same way he would. I smiled dryly, continued towards the noise. The scratching sounds were louder the closer I got to the front door and by then I was 100% sure someone was trying to break in. I briefly wondered if it was Kane, coming to finish me off or Darius, out on one of his pranks again. Then I heard a door swing open downstairs.
I froze.
The noises at our door ceased as well. Abruptly, stairs groaning under running feet, a yelp, and then a thud. I threw the door open, found a man knocked out on the floor. Mrs. Bonnet stood, wearing a white nightgown with pink rollers in her hair, face exhausted but eyes burning.
She clucked her tongue. "If he's going to disturb folks at this hour he should've at least put up a decent fight before going out. Now I'm still angry. Attacking an unconscious man is no longer self-defense, is it honey?"
I opened my mouth, looked at the unconscious, considerably large grown man with a growing bruise at his temple, then up at the old woman. "I should call the police."
She nodded. "Quick, before my self-control slips."*
Afterwards I'd learned that Mrs. Bonnet not only grew up with six brothers but her late husband had also been a wrestler. She'd had plenty of practice on how to throw her punches, and under normal circumstances I knew she'd be absolutely capable of handling herself. But there was no way she could stand a chance against Jett- I don't think even I could stand a chance against him.
Nonetheless, I patted her hand assuredly. "Thanks for the concern but I'm sure I'll be fine."
The elderly woman nodded, apparently placated as she returned to her own apartment. To watch Jett from her living room window, presumably.
I went outside, acutely aware of the twitching binds at Mrs. Bonnet's window. I glanced down the street, spotting Jett immediately. He was leaned against his car, massive tattooed arms crossed over his chest. He uncrossed them when he saw me, revealing a blue t-shirt that read Don't speak. Just don't.
I smiled.
His jeans were ripped, the jagged line above his eye still very much visible in the darkening afternoon. His eyes, one a dark blue, the other bottomless black, were narrowed, his face set in a scowl. He looked the same way he did when I'd first met him, handsomely rugged but unapproachable. But fear was no longer in residence when I looked at him- although I was probably alone in that opinion.
A woman hurried past, head whipping back every few seconds to glance warily at Jett. A father pulled his two kids to the other side of the sidewalk, his face strained as he whispered at his older son not to stare. If they weren't scampering off like frightened mice, they were gawking. If they weren't doing that, they were glaring. They were all afraid of him.
I remembered how he'd held the car door open for me, gave me candy and even stepped between me and Kane. He didn't have to do any of those things and yet he still had. I wanted to hate these people who were so blatantly judging him without knowing him, but that would be hypocritical since I definitely hadn't behaved differently.
Fully aware I had an audience- Mrs. Bonnet was definitely still standing watch- I stalked over to where Jett was waiting for me. I had to tilt my head to meet his eyes.
"Hi. Can I do something?" I asked.
"Does it have anything to do with me tackling a potential assassin or shielding you from a bullet?" He asked gruffly.
I shook my head. "I want a hug."
His eyes widened momentarily, then his brows slanted. "No."
I gasped, threw my arms around his muscular waist. "That kid with the basketball looks murderous. You'll just have to hide me from his malevolent gaze."
He sighed. "Get off me."
It was the first time I'd been this close to him, I realized. I brushed my nose against the soft fabric of his shirt, breathing in faint cologne and...candy. I smiled, snuggling closer to his warmth, he really was quite huggable.
He stood there, not hugging me back but-noticeably- not as tense as he'd been at first.
Then the backseat window of his car slid down and there was a phone. A second later the phone lowered and Darius' head appeared. His eyes were unfocussed, blonde hair slicked back in a slightly tamed by wild way.
He grinned, waving his phone. "Boss man isn't going to like seeing this. You unleash your wrath on him but Jett on the other hand gets locked in a passionate embrace..." His words slurred towards the end and then he burst out laughing. "I should print this out and throw the pictures into the crowd at the party."
I stepped away from Jett with a grimace. "Can I run him over with your car?"
He considered this. "If he doesn't shut up I'll do it myself."
"Keep talking," I smiled sweetly at Darius, walked over to the passenger side.
Jett followed me, opened my door and shut it when I was settled in. He moved to his side at a human pace. He got in, started the car and pulled away from the street.
I twisted around in my seat. Darius was chugging from a bottle, alcohol from the smell of it. He wore a grey suit, looking grudgingly dashing in it too. I also caught sight of two empty bottles at his feet. He couldn't be completely drunk yet but he seemed hell-bent on getting there. Maybe with three more bottles, werewolves have a high alcohol tolerance.
He noticed me staring, lowered his bottle. "Ember, you look pretty. Like a princess." He wrinkled his nose. "I want a princess."
"Oh lord," I exclaimed, looking away. Taunting Darius is annoying but pathetic Darius was gross.
And I had a pretty good idea which 'princess' he was talking about. I was still reeling from the fact that Darius was in love with Helen. I knew they were good friends, but I've never once seen them together in any other way. She was always draped over Kane. Or had been.
I swallowed. "Hasn't Kane found Helen yet?" I asked.
Darius slumped in his seat, voice suddenly quiet. "Kane can't do that. Not this time."
I frowned. "What-"
Jett reached over the dashboard and dropped a yellow folder in my lap. "A list of people I want you to be wary of and under no circumstances end up alone with," he said.
Curious, I opened the folder. Darius smirked up at me from the photo. Ian should see this, I mused. I doubt if Darius was actually looking out for my well-being he'd be the first suspect on Jett's hit list. I flipped through, seeing familiar faces and others not so familiar. There were three others that sent a shiver down my spine. I closed it, put a hand on it as if worried the people there might try to crawl out of the paper.
"You know I can't remember all these faces?" I asked Jett.
He nodded. "Only a precaution. I'll make sure they don't try anything funny."
I studied him closely. "How does Kane pay you when he doesn't even work?"
"He doesn't pay me, and he does have a job. He teaches self-defense at South King Street. Five times a week," Jett replied.
"Kane teaches self-defense?" I asked, gaping. "What does he do when the students get something wrong, throw them out the window?"
Jett smiled. "No. And his students are all werewolves so getting thrown out the window won't kill them anyway."
I snorted. If the fall from the window didn't kill them, being around him five times a week would be enough to finish them for sure. I set Jett's folder back on the dashboard.
I checked on Darius but he had his eyes closed, sleeping or pretending, I wasn't sure. I was just grateful for the silence. I sank back in my seat, allowing myself to enjoy the ride.
The sun was setting in a sea of orange and red as night settled upon the city. I loved car rides at night, the fresh cool air, the bright lights. I wondered how it'd feel to stick my head out the window as a wolf.
By the time we pulled up behind several other cars in the Wilder's parking lot I was reluctantly optimistic about the party. There was a steady stream of people walking through the open doors, their voices excited, jubilant. Nearly all the lights in the house were on, the large windows showing more people moving about.
Jett cut the engine but before anyone could even twitch, my door was opened and Kane was leaning towards me, hand reaching for my arm. Then his eyes landed on my face and he dropped his hand. My eyes watched his take in the makeup, the dress and heels in a slow burning sweep. Blinking, he stepped back from the car, swirled around and stalked away.
Darius burst out laughing. "Ember and Kane sitting in the tree, k-i-s..."
I got out of the car, rolling my eyes to hide my own surprise.
Jett was at my side in a second, a large calloused hand on my shoulder. "I'll be watching but if someone so much as breathes wrong in your direction you call me," he said, leaning in a bit. "Code word is skittles."
"You're kidding me," I said.
"Don't forget," he said, pushing me towards the house. "And don't go anywhere near Darius."
"Don't worry, he'll find me all by himself," I said dryly.
The Wilder's home was expansive, it had to be since pack members slept over on occasions when they didn't have a place to stay. Not to mention it's where everyone gathered for game night, movie night and several other activities during weekends. The house consisted of a dining room, kitchen, living room, twelve bedrooms, a library and the ballroom.
The ballroom was a replica of the library, identical in size as well as structure. There was a second floor landing that looked down into the spacious room. Unlike the library, the ballroom lacked the bookshelves and most of the walls were covered in floor to ceiling windows. Tonight the ballroom was decorated classically in reds, greens and brown with elaborate chandeliers overhead and elegant flowers in tall vases. From where I stood, I could see at least four buffet tables. People swayed to an upbeat tune that blasted from speakers, a larger group dancing more committedly in the middle of the room. The others were chatting, moving around with small plates of food in their hands.
If I thought I'd overdressed, I was mistaken. Everyone was in formal attire, I fit right in. Almost. I was starting to garner a few stares already.
"Skittles," Jett said brusquely. A beat later he was melting into the crowd far too easily for a man his size.
"Yeah, thanks for leaving me behind. Again," I muttered.
He probably heard. But he didn't come back.
I was debating on whether or not I should get some food when fingers wrapped around my bicep and I was jerked backwards. The hand pulled me out of the room and into the hallway- where I had time to release an exasperated sigh- and then two larger hands dragged me into a dark room. The door was shut quietly, the bells in my hair jingling like a late warning.
What now?