Change of Heart 05 - Forging the Future Read Free Page B

I had a home, more importantly, I had a mate. Or hoped I did. Somewhere out there was a man I belonged to, and I prayed he was looking for me. “May I ask, what happens if my semel is dead? Is it possible that the reason I’ve been walking around the world alone is that after the death of my semel, I had been cast out?”
    “It is possible,” Alaine answered. “A reah—or yareah, for that matter—who doesn’t want to become the mate of another when their semel dies would have no recourse but to leave their tribe to ensure that outcome. Perhaps you ran so as not to be claimed by another.”
    The very idea filled me with terrible sadness. What if my mate had passed and I had no memory of him at all?
    “Just be patient, Jim. I think your answers will be here very soon.”
    I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

Chapter 2

     
    T HE FIRST week of October in New Orleans was warmer than most people would think. It was sticky and hot and humid as hell. But in the French Quarter, nobody cared. Bourbon Street was still thriving: the beignets were still being made and devoured at Café du Monde, and at Devotion, between the air-conditioning and our signature handmade cocktails, nobody gave a crap what the weather was like outside.
    They were astounded when I announced that I wanted to finish my shift at the bar, but really, what else was I going to do? Sit home and stare at the walls while I waited for word, chewing my nails to the quick, throwing up, just basically tying myself into knots? What was the point of that? I had to stay busy, and even more than that, I needed the money. I was living on tips since my paycheck was practically nothing and I had just paid rent. If I wanted to eat, I needed to work.
    The idea of taking the semel up on his offer of staying with him in his home was simply not possible. For one, I could smell the fear on him—I was freaking him out—and for two, his yareah wanted to gut me. I had no idea why. I was already mated, so whatever did she have to fear from me? But from the murderous glances she kept casting my way, I could tell that staying out of her path was the best course of action.
    Also, it was odd, but when the sheseru was manhandling me, that had hurt even more than I had expected, and the residual ache was disconcerting.
    Once I’d started working at the restaurant, clean-cut, eating regularly, no longer resembling a skin-and-bones homeless guy, people started flirting with me. Since I had needs just like any other man, I had allowed a few of the customers and bar patrons to walk me home. The problem was that when we got to my studio apartment down close to the corner of Dauphine and Ursulines, as soon as they put their hands, their mouths, on me, it felt like my skin was trying to shrink away from their touch and my nerve endings were on fire. I got nauseated, too, and if I ignored it and allowed the contact to continue, I started to hyperventilate. Guys had called me a tease, one guy even tried to take what he wanted, and inevitably all those encounters ended in yelling. I had stopped trying to have sex because it really wasn’t worth it. I could take care of myself much more easily.
    So the news that I had a mate was doubly terrifying. If he was still among the living, what if I couldn’t touch him, either? What if that was the reason I was on my own? What if he had cast me aside because I couldn’t bear his hands on me? Worse, how hurt would he be to find out that I’d forgotten him?
    Maybe he’d done something horrific to me and I’d suppressed it and my memory failing was due to emotional trauma?
    The possibilities were endless, and my head was spinning just thinking about them.
    I needed to run.
    After my shift was over, which I’d had to finish out in a much too big shirt of Keith’s that he had in his locker, I was planning to bolt and figure out what I could do with the limited funds at my disposal, but the semel, along with his sylvan, sheseru, and several