"But…what happened to Chaos? Where is he now?"
"He wasn't hurt. But he refused to come with us. He said…to tell Victor he was sorry."
Victor startled me as he stepped into the room. "Sorry about what?" he asked like he was holding his breath.
I hung my head, hating to be the bearer of bad news. "He didn't say anything definite but I think he might have given his rune away…to a harpy."
"Nay," Victor said right away. "He wouldn't do that."
"He said had no choice," I told him softly. "He said there was a girl."
Victor dropped heavily into the chair beside me, his gaze fixed on my face, but I could tell he wasn't seeing me. "We have to go back for him. Do you know where he is?"
"We couldn't follow him," I answered. "Reason barely made it down off the mountain and back to my car in Boulder." I couldn't stand the flat silence that followed so I said, "But Chaos must be staying somewhere close to that cabin. Within hearing distance, at least. How far would that be for a gargoyle?"
Victor shared a quick look with Havoc before saying, "Depending on the circumstances, it might be quite a long way."
I mulled this over. It had been a clear night, and quiet. Reason had been shouting at Motschka. A human might have heard him from several miles away…a gargoyle would have heard it from even farther. But I was having a hard time keeping my mind on what had gone down at the cabin. I glanced at the kitchen doorway that Victor had just walked through. "Is Reason okay?" I asked.
"MacKenzie and Defiance are taking care of him," he murmured distractedly, his attention obviously torn between his two brothers. "I gave him an infusion." He locked his gaze on Havoc and said, "You should go up next."
"An infusion?" I asked as Havoc got to his feet and headed from the room.
Victor swung his gaze back to me and nodded. "The harpy's talon nicked a large vein in his leg and he's lost a lot of blood. Defiance and I have given him an infusion of venom to help make up for the loss. The rest of the pack will do the same."
"Will…that be enough?" I croaked, wondering how the venom could help replace the blood but figuring I didn't know much about gargoyle physiology and it might not be impossible.
Finally, Victor seemed to notice how worried I was. He reached across the table and wrapped his fingers around my hand. "He's going to be okay."
"If you say so." I took a hard swallow. "But he looked so white."
A slight smile curved Victor's lips upward. "He's looking a little blue right now."
Despite Victor's assurances that his brother would be okay, I had to see for myself. So, after Havoc returned with Dare, I asked to see Reason. I'd reported everything Reason had found out from the harpy—including the fact that Courage and Force didn't appear to be prisoners—so they knew as much as I did.
Defiance left the bedroom as I walked in. I got the impression he was still blaming me for what happened. I guess it was sort of my fault since Reason went to Boulder because of me, and when he showed up in the city, it looked suspicious to the federal agents. Anyhow, the tall blond shot me a dark look as he headed out the door and if looks could speak, his would have been growling.
I turned toward the bed. MacKenzie sat on a wooden chair beside Reason with her fist resting on his wounded thigh. Valor stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder. I thought maybe they'd give me a minute alone with him but Mac didn't budge. "He's doing much better," she murmured without looking at me. She seemed totally focused on Reason, which was understandable.
"That's good," I answered, in the understatement of the century. "I just wanted to see him before I left." I shuffled a few steps toward the bed and looked down at him. His eyes were closed and he looked like an angel. I know I've said that before but this was different. His skin had an ethereal, pale blue glow and his face was even more beautiful than ever. He looked like he'd just fallen from heaven…and had maybe tripped on his way down, breaking his nose.
"You're leaving?" she asked. Her surprised gaze whipped upward and searched my face.
"I have a huge paper to write this weekend," I explained, awkwardly twisting my hands together. I didn't want to look like I didn't care about Reason but I didn't want to intrude when he needed MacKenzie, not me.
MacKenzie frowned up at me. "Okay," she said slowly.
"Will you send me a text and let me know how he's doing?" I asked.
"Of course," she answered. But she seemed a little annoyed with me, and shifted her gaze back to Reason's face.
If I'd been alone with him, I'd probably have kissed him goodbye but I was too self-conscious to try that with MacKenzie and Valor watching. So, I touched his shoulder and said, "I'll see you soon." Then I hurried down the stairs, calling out my goodbyes as I headed for the front door. I was afraid I might get weepy if I was forced to talk to anyone.
"Hang on," Havoc said, intercepting me before I could get out of the house. "Can I go with you? Keep you company until you can get back here? I hate for you to be alone right now."
I felt like asking him why he thought I needed company. I mean, Reason and I didn't exactly get along. Why would Havoc think I'd be cut up? Yeah, I felt like someone had taken a sharp pair of scissors to my heart but how would he know that? But maybe he just thought I still needed to be watched. I pushed back my shoulders and said, "I'll be fine."
Victor appeared suddenly at his side and said, "Havoc's right. One of us should go with you."
I pinned the golden blond with a look of exasperation. I felt like shouting but I quashed the impulse. "Don't you guys know me better by now? You don't have to watch me anymore. I won't tell anyone about you."
Victor looked a little surprised. "It's not that," he assured me. "It's just that Reason would want—"
But I hurried through the door before he could finish. I knew what Reason wanted. And it wasn't me.
Chapter Twenty
Despite what I told Havoc, I wasn't fine. I was miserable. Mostly, I was worried about Reason and wanted him to be all right. But I couldn't help other ideas from creeping into my head. Self-centered ideas like…when the crap really hit the fan and the chips were down, it was MacKenzie that Reason needed. Not me.
I tried to wipe my brain and focus on my research paper but it wasn't easy. I'd received several texts from MacKenzie reporting that Reason was awake and talking, so when someone knocked on my front door on Sunday morning, my thoughts automatically locked on Reason and the rest of the guys. I jumped up and hurried across the room, thinking that just maybe…
I opened the door a crack and almost died of disappointment. It was Federal Agent Simpson. "Go away," I growled.
He gave me a look that could only be described as pleading, and I was struck again by how young he seemed. "I need to talk to you."
I glared at him. "Unless you have a warrant or something stronger—like a hand grenade, for instance—you aren't coming in."
"Please, Miss Sandoval. This isn't exactly an official visit."
"Well, this is an official goodbye," I muttered, and pushed the door closed. Or tried too. One of his polished black shoes was wedged between the door and the jamb. I sent him a cold look and pointed out, "The last time you were here, you had a set of handcuffs."
"That wasn't me," he insisted. "That was Agent Donovan."
"And where is your nazi friend?" I asked, arching an enquiring eyebrow, my hand still wrapped around the doorknob.
"I'm sorry, Miss Sandoval, but he's dead."
I opened the door and stared at him. "Dead?"
Simpson nodded. "One of his bullets bounced off that flying dinosaur and hit him in the chest."
"Wow," I murmured.
"That's why I let go of you and your friend when that thing was trying to drag you out the window. I could see Donovan was hit. But I was too late." Simpson got that pleading look in his eyes again. "Can I come in?"
I turned and walked back into the apartment. "Do you want some coffee?"
"That would be nice," he said quietly a
nd parked his young but officious butt on one of the barstools behind the counter. "What was that thing?" he asked as I placed a steaming mug in front of him
"You first," I said flatly.
He took a sip from the mug and returned it to the counter. Then he pulled in a deep breath. "Donovan was a good agent. After he met with his cousin in Limon and saw that stone monster in the barn, he sensed that something strange was going on. Most people would have dismissed it as a prank. I would have thought it was a prank. But Donovan had good instincts. He thought there was more to it. So, he searched every inch of that barn and found two other bits of stone in the shape of slender fingers. Then he asked a friend down in the lab for an analysis, which as you know, showed that the stone sample had some unusual properties. With that in hand, he went to his supervisor and asked for project funding to explore what he described as an unusual event involving a new material with interesting properties."
Simpson stopped and gave me a significant look. "Are you with me so far?"
"I think so," I said, filling a cup for myself and leaning back against the counter on the other side of the kitchen. "You're telling me that only three or four people know about Donovan's investigation."
"That's correct. And that's the reason I'm here. I want you to know that I've given my report to my supervisor. I've told him that we were unsuccessful in acquiring a larger sample of the material. That the shipment we were pursuing was stolen and we have no more leads. I've recommended that we close this file."
Suspicious, I narrowed my eyes on him. "Why would you do that?"
The young agent sighed. "I don't know what your friends are, exactly. But they're young and they deserve a life outside of a government lab. I wouldn't want that to happen to anybody. But I do want something in return. I want you to give your friends my apology for everything that happened. I can't promise anything more than an apology right now but…I'll do my best to shield them from the authorities."
"What else do you want?" I asked him.
"Nothing," he answered, lifting the cup to his mouth again. "But I'm hoping they'll keep me in the loop and call on me if they need my help."
"What kind of help would they need from you?" I scoffed.
"I don't know," he said softly. "You tell me. What was that thing? How many more are there? Is that the worst or are there bigger ones, stronger ones?"
"It was a harpy," I told him grudgingly. "But I think I'd better talk to the pack before I tell you anything more."
"Can they be killed?" he pressed me. "Because our bullets sure as hell didn't work."
I sent a pointed look across the room and he swiveled in his seat until his gaze snagged on the sledgehammer leaning against the end of the couch. "A long knife will work, too," I informed him. "But you have to sink the blade between the armored plates. And a cast-iron fry pan is handy, in a pinch."
He nodded soberly and turned back around in his seat to face me again. "Where's the harpy now?"
"Reason killed it with a long piece of glass that I picked up when the harpy crashed through your office window," I told him, deliberately leaving out any mention of his brother. "She's done."
"She? That thing was a she?" He shook his head in wonder. "I'd hate to see the male of the species."
I knew how he felt and sent him a wry little smile. "So, how did you explain the broken office windows to your supervisors? And Donovan's death?"
Simpson waved the question aside and drained his cup. "Donovan was previously involved in an investigation that put a drug lord in prison. I made it sound like a revenge attack."
"You're pretty sneaky, aren't you?" I snorted.
"When I need to be," he answered with a sigh that suggested he didn't really like being sneaky. Everything considered, I wasn't sure Simpson was in the right line of work. But we parted on fairly good terms. He left me his card with his personal cell number scrawled on the back. I said I'd report his offer of help to the pack but didn't promise him anything.
A few minutes after he left, another knock echoed through the apartment and I sauntered back toward the door, assuming Simpson had something more to say. With my coffee cup in one hand, I pulled the door open.
My cup hit the floor and shattered across a wide puddle of brown liquid as I took a step backward and gasped. Reason leaned against the doorframe. He looked a little worn but heart-stoppingly beautiful with his slightly flattened nose and that strange ethereal glow radiating off his skin. He did not look particularly happy, however. His mouth was drawn out in a long, flat line. "How's the paper going?" he growled.
"Y-you should sit down," I choked and backed away from him.
Have I mentioned before how fast these guys move when they want to? Because they move like friggin' lightning. Two seconds later, he had me trapped against the wall, his knee between my legs, his fingers tangled in my hair, his hot gaze locked on my mouth. "So, all of a sudden, you care about my well being?" he gritted. "When Friday you couldn't even be bothered to hang around long enough for me to open my eyes?"
"You didn't need me," I fought back in a shaking voice while my body jittered from the haywire effect of being near him. "You had MacKenzie."
"MacKenzie!" he almost shouted.
I ratcheted my chin up a notch. "Don't bark at me, Reason. I took you to MacKenzie when I thought you belonged in a hospital. I've been a good friend to you!"
His blue eyes narrowed but never left my mouth. "It's not just friendship I want from you, Elaina."
"Well, what the hell do you want?" I snapped.
"I want more," he insisted, his voice graveled and low. He lifted his gaze to my eyes. "You're wearing my rune, Elaina."
I looked down at my shoulder, even though my new tattoo was covered by the long-sleeved top I was wearing. "You only marked me because of the harpy," I scoffed.
"That doesn't matter—" he started.
"It matters to me," I yelled, cutting him off. "It matters to me, Reason."
He searched my eyes like he couldn't understand why I was upset. "I wouldn't have given you my rune unless I loved you," he said softly.
"Then why did you ask for MacKenzie when you were hurt?" I demanded, my chest lifting and falling with the force of my torn breaths.
Without letting go of me, he rolled his eyes. "Because I needed Mac to heal me."
He needed MacKenzie to heal him? What? Slowly, it occurred to me that I was missing something, here. "MacKenzie can heal? What are you talking about?"
Just then, Havoc appeared in the open doorway. "Didn't we tell you?" he said cheerfully. "Mac's a badass witch with some serious healing powers. That's why Reason told you to take him to her as quickly as possible."
Mac was a witch? She was healing him? And that's why he wanted to see her? Rocked to the soles of my shoes, I searched Reason's face.
But he turned his head the slightest fraction toward the door and glared at his cousin. "Not now, Havoc."
"Sorry," Havoc apologized with a savage grin. "But you did say five minutes."
"Give me ten more," Reason snarled.
Havoc took a step backward. "Back up," he warned whoever was with him. "Everyone back down the stairs. He needs another ten minutes."
So, I had a lot of questions about this Mac-being-a-witch business but I figured they'd have to wait because I had something else I had to clear up first. And as soon as Reason returned his piercing gaze to my face, I said, "I thought you liked MacKenzie."
"Of course I like MacKenzie," he murmured, his mouth drifting closer to mine.
I watched his eyes. "No, I mean I thought you really liked her."
He groaned and touched his mouth to my jaw, the tender brush of his lips leaving a hot trail as they slid toward my ear. "I was attracted to her at first. This is different. This is…more."
"What do you mean by more?" I asked breathlessly.
He stopped and locked his heavy-lidded gaze on my eyes. "I don't know. But I think it's probably the way that Valor feels about Mac and the way Dar
e feels about Mim. It's just more. A lot more. Way more."
That sounded good for starters but I wanted him to spell it out. I wanted him to tell me he liked me and maybe even confess that he loved me. "So, when did this all happen?" I demanded. "When did you decide you felt that way about me? Was it when I chased those federal agents off the day they came to MacKenzie's house?"
He shook his head. "It was before then."
"Was it when I took a fry pan to that harpy?"
"Before then," he murmured.
"How about that time I kissed you? The first time I kissed you?"
A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You mean the time you almost killed us both?"
"You have to take some of the blame," I insisted.
A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he rubbed his thumb into the corner of my mouth. "It was even before that. It was when you first walked out on the patio and found me by the pool."
Wow. That sounded like love at first sight. I was almost hopping with excitement. "Why? What did I do?"
He brushed his lips across the tip of my nose. "You looked at me, wrinkled up your nose and snorted."
"I…snorted?"
"Aye. That's when I knew you were the lass for me. I don't mean to sound conceited, but girls don't normally snort the first time they see me. So, I was…"
"Enchanted?" I supplied.
"Interested," he said softly. "Maybe even intrigued."
"So, you liked me way back since then and you didn't let me know?"
A conflicted look shadowed his eyes as he tried to explain. "It wasn't easy acting like I didn't care, but I thought I was doing the right thing. If I'd marked you, I'd have been torn between protecting you all the time and being there for the pack. I knew you were my weak spot. Because of my interest in you, I put both of us—as well as my entire pack—in danger when I pulled that stunt by the pool."
Arrgh. He was always doing the right thing. But, let's face it, it was part of the reason I liked him so much.
"Then there was the whole harpy issue," he added. "To keep you safe, it was important for me to hide my true feelings."
The Greystone Bundle (Books 1-4) Page 56
