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Page 32

 Rachel Vincent

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“For the same reason I don’t go around killing innocent toms. Because my human half understands that sometimes compassion is the greater part of honor.”
Ten
Sweaty from my workout, I headed for my shower, but I knew something was wrong the moment I closed my bedroom door. The door to my bathroom stood open and an amorphous shadow lay across my carpet, cast by the brighter light from within.
I held my breath but couldn’t stop my heart from pounding. My first thought, as ridiculous as it would seem in hindsight, was that Malone had somehow breached not only our territorial boundary, but our home. I hated feeling unsafe in my own house.
Furious, I grabbed a hardbound book from my dresser—the only potential weapon within reach—but before I took the first step, a familiar voice called softly from the bathroom. “Relax. It’s me.”
“Jace?” I wasn’t sure that was much better. My pulse slowed, but only a little, and a tingly feeling began deep in my stomach—half dread, half anticipation. “You shouldn’t…”
“I know. Sorry.” His shadow stood from the side of the tub and he stepped into the doorway. “This was the most private place I could find.” And that’s when I realized he’d been crying.
Sympathy rang through me, softening the sharp edge of my irritation and melting my willpower like chocolate in the sun. “Oh. Yeah, I guess it is.” Because no one else—other than Marc and Kaci—would venture into my room without permission.
After Charlie died, the Alphas had banned trips to the guesthouse, even in groups, until we figured out how best to fight the thunderbirds. So we were packed into the main house tighter than clowns in a Volkswagen.
“Are you okay?”
He shrugged and wiped moisture from his cheeks with both bare hands, but his eyes were still red and swollen. “It just kind of hit me all at once. About Brett.”
“And your mom?” I stood near the bed, afraid to move too close to him. Being near him made my heart beat too hard and my throat feel too thick. I was acutely aware of every tingling nerve ending, even under such grave circumstances.
Jace looked surprised for a moment, then he shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and nodded. “She knows what Cal’s doing. She has to know. But I think it’d be easier if I could believe she doesn’t.”
“I’m sorry.” I didn’t know how to comfort him. I wanted to hug him. To hold him, like I would if it were any of the other guys in pain. Werecats tend to relax in big piles and to relate to each other through touch. But Jace wasn’t just one of the other enforcers anymore, and the last time we’d tried to comfort each other, things had gotten out of hand. Waaay out of hand.
Brett’s face flashed through my mind, and I had to concentrate to keep from imagining his last moments, wondering if they had looked anything like Ethan’s. My eyes watered and I sank to the carpet, leaning against my footboard. “It’s my fault. I got Brett involved, and now he’s dead. I’m so sorry.”
“No.” Jace strode forward and dropped smoothly onto his knees, inches from me. His cobalt eyes shone with unshed tears and flashed with resolve. “Brett was already involved. He kept those feathers for a reason. And if he wasn’t willing to take the risk, he would have hung up on you the moment he heard your voice.”
“But…”
“This is Calvin’s fault, Faythe. Not yours, and not mine. Cal’s going to pay for this. I’ll make sure of that.”
I nodded. Staring into his eyes, I believed him. I believed we could make Calvin pay, because Jace couldn’t live with the alternative. And he wasn’t the only one.
But killing Malone wouldn’t make everything okay again. No amount of justice—or vengeance—would bring back Ethan or Brett, or make us miss them any less. Nothing could erase Kaci’s trauma, or give me back the time I’d lost with Marc.
“We’re gonna be fine, Faythe,” Jace insisted, but that time I didn’t believe him because his voice shook. He didn’t truly believe himself. “You’re strong, and so determined. Nothing ever knocks you down. People try, but you just get up swinging.” He braved a grin in spite of obvious grief. “You’re going to take over for your dad when he retires, and you’re going to be an amazing Alpha.”
“What about you?” I asked, and the room seemed to fade around us then, as if nothing else existed in that moment.
A pained shadow passed over his eyes, like clouds in front of the sun. He scooted closer and leaned against the footboard next to me. “I’ll be happy if I’m still a part of your life.”
I didn’t want to ask, but I couldn’t help it. “What part?” My voice cracked on the last word, and I blinked back more tears. Why was I crying? Why did my heart ache, like it was going to collapse in on itself?
“This part…” Jace whispered. Then he kissed me.
I tried to fight it. I tried to think about Marc, and how much I loved him. But Jace was everywhere in that moment. He was everything. Our pulses raced in unison, and the hollow ache in his heart echoed in my own. His lips were warm, but his hand on the side of my neck, his thumb brushing the back of my jaw—they were hot.
I couldn’t pull away. And the truth was that I didn’t want to.
That kiss went deeper than I’d been prepared for. Longer. It lit tiny fires within my veins, dripping little bits of flame that trailed to burn low in my body. When our kiss had finally run its course, Jace leaned back a few inches and my eyes watered as my tortured gaze met his. “Why is this so hard?” I whispered.