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Chapter 4
Why Is It Always The Weird One's?
Harry slowly opened his eyes and looked at his surrounding's, he was in a large room that was decked out in blue and silver.
He groaned and sat up, how the hell had he gotten here?
He looked to his left and saw a man looking up at him with amused eyes.
All at once the memories came flooding back, Archer, the contract, Clyde, Vampires, Werewolves.
As Harry was musing this over, he didn't notice Clyde sit up and move towards him, but he did notice when he felt strong arms circle his waist and a pair of warm lips on his neck.
He shrieked and tried to move over, only to roll off the edge of the bed and land on the floor with a loud thump.
He sat up on the floor rubbing his nose and glaring at the laughing man leaning over the side of the bed.
Harry stood up and went to move towards the door, but was pulled back onto the bed by Clyde and crushed against a hard chest.
He squeaked and tried to move away, only to be pulled back once again.
"Let go of you...you git" cried Harry, turning around in Clyde's arms and glaring up at the laughing man.
"No" said Clyde "I don't think I will".
"Why not?" huffed Harry indignantly.
Clyde went to answer but was interrupted by a sharp cracking noise coming from the end of the bed, and a loud cry of "What is going on here?!?!"
Harry looked up only to meet the angry gaze of Archer.
"Archer" Harry cried "Will you tell him to let go of me, this isn't really comfy".
Harry felt Clyde stiffen next to him, and felt himself being lifted of the bed.
He was set down and pushed behind Clyde's back protectively.
Clyde looked over at Archer and growled loudly.
"What are you doing with my mate, cousin?" asked Archer in a strained voice.
Harry looked up sharply at that, cousin? He thought to himself.
And the last thing he thought before he fainted dead away was, why is it always the weird ones?
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