Renegade

by Nancy Northcott

“A promise I made you.”

  What promise? He hadn’t— Oh, fuck, yes, he had. Griff wheeled around, shoulders tensing. “So there is something wrong with her. Damn it, you should’ve said so.”

  “It’s nothing that isn’t normal,” Stefan said.

  “Good.” Griff relaxed.

  Stefan added, “For a woman dealing with a broken heart.”

  Griff scowled at Stefan to hide the way the words gouged his soul. “Stay out of this, bro. I’m warning you.”

  “I promised I’d see to whatever she needed, and she needs you. I think you need her, too.” Stefan slid onto a stool.

  “I need her to be happy,” Griff ground out. “Secure. She has a better shot at both without me.”

  “That must be why she’s losing weight and always looks tired and drawn, as though she isn’t sleeping. Why she keeps to herself.” At Griff’s sharp look, Stefan shrugged. “The Council hired her to lead a new task force, uncovering traitors in the ranks, working on the demon problem. She recruited Javier and, for part-time, Tasha. She’s already rousted half a dozen from intel and recon in the shire reeve’s department.”

  “I could’ve told them she’d be great.”

  “And she is, at the job. But she keeps to herself. I guess it’s because she’s so damned happy and secure that she won’t have anything to do, at least in her off hours, with people who don’t forgive you. Doesn’t even do much with her team, Javier says.”

  So she was lonely anyway. Tired and heartsore and lonely. The image flayed Griff’s heart. His fingers tightened on the brush.

  “You don’t look so great, either,” Stefan added. “You need to stop trying to atone for things that aren’t your fault and start liv—”

  “Shut up!” Pointing with his brush, Griff said, “We’re grown-ups. We deal.” Even though he couldn’t sleep without her and when he did manage to sleep, he dreamed of her. “In the long run, this is best.”

  “I saw her kill you.”

  The quiet tone, the pain behind it, stole Griff’s breath.

  “I tried to stop her,” Stefan continued, “but I was dazed, too slow. I was ready to kill her. I had the power in my blade to fry her, more than enough. She was sitting on the floor, cradling you in her arms.”

  Griff couldn’t breathe. He turned his back and snapped, “Enough.”

  “She and I lived it. You can hear about it. I was about to blast her when she looked up at me. Tears ran down her face. Poured down, but her voice was steady when she said, ‘Do it. Please.’”

  “Okay.” Griff pushed the word through his tight throat. “I get it.”

  “If only. That’s when I realized what had happened, when she said that, and then she told me about her promise. Later, in the chopper, when you started to revive, she was terrified that you wouldn’t be you, that she would be honor bound to do that again, and she didn’t think she could. Hell, I don’t think I could’ve done it the first time.”

  Griff’s throat tightened. He cleared it, hard. “So now she doesn’t have to worry about that.”

  “You’re bonded to each other, Griff. Do you know how rare that is?”

  “We were bonded. The traitors took care of that.”

  Stefan made an impatient sound. “For a smart guy, you are so fucking stupid sometimes.”

  “Hey—”

  Stefan grabbed him, swung him around. Griff’s hands rose, fisting, but the pain in Stefan’s face stopped him.

  “Griff, there’s no moving on from what she did for you. I bet she thinks you don’t forgive her. Maybe she doesn’t forgive herself.”

  Griff could see it, could feel the echo of that pain, both Stefan’s and Valeria’s. That didn’t mean, though, that being with him was good for her. “Okay,” he muttered. “I understand.”

  “I hope so.” Stefan released him. “What matters is what you do about it.”

  What if Stefan was right? Four days later, the question still gnawed at Griff. The mural was progressing, and he’d resolutely finished the flat rock as an empty one. But the idea of Valeria suffering haunted him.

  He’d thought she would get over it. She was strong. It had only been a month. Surely her friends would come around if he stayed away. Surely she would unbend toward them.

  He feathered sap green along the branches of a pine tree. Her eyes were green, with flecks of golden brown.

  You’re doing this for yourself, she’d said.

  Was he? He’d killed four under-reeves doing their duty. Allie, Corin, and Sykes wouldn’t have died if not for his choices. He couldn’t let Valeria also pay for what he’d done.

  His phone rang, and Hettie’s number appeared on the caller ID. He picked up the phone. “Morning, Gorgeous.”

  The familiar snort came back to him. “How come I haven’t seen you since you been back, boy?”

  “I’m working. Painting, something I’m free to do partly thanks to you.”

  “I got your letter, your offer of a freebie. I’d love a picture of Magnus. If you want to come take some photos of him, I’ll have fresh biscuits in the morning.”

  “You can always bribe me with food.”

  “Counting on it. I’ll have eggs, cantaloupe, and some of Elijah Kimball’s home-cured bacon. See you at nine.” As Griff winced, she added, “Don’t tell me that’s too early for you artsy types.”

  “Even if it is.” Over her snort, he said, “Any news I should know about?”

  “Bunch of mages have been messing around the old Adams place. They say it’s safe, but they’re keeping an eye on it. I’ve been taking ’em cold drinks.” She paused. “That girl of yours is there now.”

  Valeria. His chest constricted. “How is she?”

  Not what he’d meant to say, but he had to know.

  “Come to breakfast and see for yourself. I’m inviting her, too, since she’s meeting with the mayor and town council late tomorrow morning.”

  God, how he wanted to. Ached to. “That’s not a good idea. I’ll take Magnus’s photo another time.”

  “Bullshit. Chicken shit, too.”

  Anger flared white hot in his chest, pushed through the pain in his heart. “You have no idea—”

  “You listen to me. Your mama and daddy won’t say this to you. Too worried about you, too glad to have you back, but you know I don’t pull punches.”

  “So you’ve all talked about Valeria and me. Blast it, Hettie—”

  “That girl deserves better than this from you. Lawyers deal with a lot of angry people, and I’ve had my share. But I’ve never seen anybody so damned furious, and so damned scared, as she was when we were trying to stop them from killing you.”

  Damn it, could no one see? “I’m trying to give her the future she deserves. I owe her that.”

  Yet she kept to herself, Stefan had said.

  “Sell yourself that crap if you like.” Another snort. “I’m not buying it, and she doesn’t want it.”

  “Has she said—”

  “Of course not. Got her own share of stiff-necked pride, that one. I know grief when I see it, though.” Hettie’s voice softened. “And I’m telling you, it’s eating her up. You think about what you really owe her.”

  Hettie hung up. Lips tight, Griff snapped his phone closed.

  Turning, he spotted his car keys on the bar. Well, they would just stay there.

  It’s eating her up, Hettie had said.

  First Stefan, now Hettie and, by implication, Griff’s parents. The way things were going, Magnus would weigh in next.

  Maybe they all had a point, though. He’d meant to protect her, to keep her from paying a price for loving him. She’d paid one anyway. He was trying to keep the cost down, but was he fooling himself, as Hettie implied? Was he really making things worse for Valeria?

  Leaders didn’t run, and Val hadn’t either. Nothing she could face as task force director would be harder than coming here, looking down the rutted, overgrown lane to the spot where Griffin had finally said, I love you. But she’d done
her duty, seen the countering ritual performed, felt the residue of Chaos magic so she could recognize it again.

  Now the job was behind her. One more thing down.

  One more tie with him severed.

  She’d found a reliable tracker and learned Tina Wallace and Jim Barcan had been murdered by rogue mages. The young deputy reeve she and Griffin had saved, Darren Hale, helped her prove it.

  Computer records from the Americus nest had shed light on the ghoul breeding program. But there was no explanation yet for why the ghouls now used explosives at their nests, how they’d come to ally with Void demons, or what they planned.

  Meanwhile, Will and his parents, who were famous archaeologists, were studying the amulet the ghouls had used on her. So far, they’d had no luck figuring out how it was made.

  “Hey, boss.” Javier trotted toward her. “Looks like we’re done. Anything else before we head back?”

  “I’ll check the monitoring crystals. You and Leah can go.”

  “Thanks. See you at home.”

  He jogged toward the portal site, where Leah probably waited. The guy never walked, now that Val thought of it. He must have a hell of a lot of nervous energy.

  Hettie’s blue pickup truck bumped its way down the lane. The older woman had kept the working mages supplied with iced tea, lemonade, and homemade cookies. And she’d never once mentioned Griffin.

  “There you are.” Hettie stuck her head out the driver’s side window. “Got a minute?”

  “Sure. I have only a couple of things left to do.” Val strolled around the truck to Hettie’s side.

  Magnus bounded from the truck bed and dropped an icky tennis ball at Val’s feet. She tossed it into the woods. With a joyous bark, he gave chase.

  Hettie peered over her glasses. “Since you’re meeting with the town council tomorrow, would you like a bed for the night? I’ll give you a good country breakfast in the morning.”

  Stay over in Griffin’s second home? In the bed she’d shared with him? No way.

  “That’s very kind, but I have a room at the motel on the highway. Breakfast sounds great, though.”

  “Suit yourself.” Hettie shrugged. “See you round about nine, then.”

  “Thanks.” Val hurried to check the crystals and leave before Magnus thought to bring back that slobbery ball.

  After a sleepless night, Griff headed for the shelter. He could fall in with whatever the kids were doing, or help Marc if he needed it. Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about Valeria or wishing she was with him. But seeing him would only hurt her, and he’d done enough of that.

  She needs you, Stefan had said, and I think you need her.

  He wanted her, no doubt about that. But maybe Stefan and Hettie were both wrong. Now that she’d had time to think, she might realize she’d made a mistake in falling for him.

  She’d called his reasoning selfish. He’d been sure it wasn’t, but maybe he’d been fooling himself. Hettie’d called him a chicken shit. Maybe he just didn’t have the balls to see Valeria face an uphill climb at the Collegium because of him.

  He stopped to let Sam Peters pull his battered red pickup out of the market square. Sam gave him a toot of the horn and a friendly wave, and Griff answered with a two-fingered salute. At least he still had the town and could move around it openly now.

  Suppose he called her, tried to see her. She was at Hettie’s now. He could settle this today. If Valeria would talk to him.

  She’d tried, more than once, to tell him how she felt, and he hadn’t listened.

  Regret and longing squeezed his heart. He couldn’t put this off. Griff swung into a U-turn and put the hammer down.

  Chapter 29

  Griff drove down the bumpy dirt drive with its live oak trees laden with Spanish moss and past the two-story, white frame house to his usual parking spot in back. Opening the car door, he looked up, and his heart jolted.

  Valeria sat on the back porch steps with a glass of iced tea in her hand and Magnus snoring beside her.

  He climbed out of the car, into a humid morning that promised to become sweltering as afternoon approached. Griff took his sunglasses off. He wanted a good look at her.

  Magnus shot to his feet, tail wagging, and leaped to the ground. Scratching him was the fastest way to get past him, so Griff obliged, but he watched Valeria covertly.

  She took his breath away. Green shorts showcased those long legs, and her yellow tank not only clung to her breasts but let those gorgeous, toned arms show. His scrutiny reached her face, her blank expression, and his enjoyment faded.

  He wanted to touch her. Ached to.

  Needed to.

  Stefan had been right. Griff needed her. He had to fight for her, suck it up and deal, even if that meant watching her take flak sometimes. If she would take him back.

  She stood, brushing off the seat of her shorts. “I’ll tell Hettie you’re here. Unless she’s expecting you?” Her eyes narrowed.

  “She isn’t. I came to talk to you.”

  “Oh?” She raised one eyebrow.

  Clearly, she wasn’t going to help him out, but she’d gone more than halfway already only to have him knock her back. “I’d like to apologize.”

  “Oh.”

  Couldn’t she say any damned thing else? Pushing on, he explained, “For not being the kind of man you wanted.”

  “We are what we are.” Her voice held steady, but her lips trembled, the pain they betrayed an ice pick in his soul.

  Was she hurting at seeing him? Or because she regretted ever loving him? “It’s…I miss you.” Great, another weak lead-in.

  Maybe she feared he’d turn ghoul again someday and put her through that hellish wringer again.

  “I’m sorry.” Her throat moved in a hard swallow, and her eyes darkened with misery she couldn’t or wouldn’t hide any longer. “I can’t be your pal, Griffin, if that’s what you want. Not now and maybe not ever. As for anything else…” She shook her head. “I can’t be with someone who doesn’t trust me to handle myself or believe in what we have together. So you can go in and see Hettie or toss the ball for Magnus, or you can leave. But we’re done here.”

  She turned toward the door. His heart clutched.

  She looked so sad, so lonely. He’d done that to her. He’d cost her more than anyone ever should’ve and denied her the one thing she asked in return.

  “I’m an asshole,” he blurted out, and he started after her.

  A vision flashed over his sight—Valeria standing beside him, fighting dark, smoldering foes with her sword as he swung his staff, a staff bright with magic.

  The vision winked out. It might’ve been precog or imagination or wishful thinking. He would worry about that after he’d put things right with her.

  At the door, Val froze, blood roaring in her ears. “What did you say?” He probably was just trying the same song, different key, not changing anything. Sometimes hope was a viper.

  She heard the sound of his footsteps as he came up onto the porch and stopped behind her. He was so close she could almost feel his body heat in the muggy air.

  “You were right,” he said. “About my not respecting your choices. About my giving you up too easily. About you deserving better. I didn’t listen. Hence, asshole.”

  Hope sank its fangs in, and she didn’t have the nerve to turn around, to make the bite sharper if this wasn’t going where she wanted it to.

  He took an audible breath. “I hear you’ve got this task force. That you’re maybe hiring. I could use a job.”

  “What?” She turned to him. The longing in his face hit her like a jab to the heart.

  “A job,” he repeated. “Under your command.”

  He looked serious. But was he?

  “You know that means I decide who takes point. You’re okay with that?”

  “Yes. I’ll type and file if that’s what you want. I’ll hate it, especially if something happens to you, but I’ll do it. I’ll even live at the Collegium if that’s where you’
re headquartered.”

  She stared at him. If she yielded now, and he let her down, he would break her heart again.

  “I love you,” he said. “I don’t know what’s going to happen to me, with the magic. I don’t know if ghouls will come after me. But I do know that I want you. For better or worse, powered or not, for the rest of our lives.” Could she believe him? Trust him one more time?

  “I mean it.” He held out a hand to her, his eyes pleading. “Touch me. Connect with me, and you’ll see.”

  Hesitantly, she laid her fingers in his warm, callused palm. Their bond flared to life and in it rang the truth of his claims.

  Joy burst out of her in a shuddering, elated gasp. She flung herself into his arms.

  Holding her close, he groaned, and then his mouth found hers.

  “Well.” Hettie spoke from the doorway.

  They let their kiss break but not the embrace. Smiling against each other’s lips, they took one last, whispery taste before they looked to her.

  She grinned. “Took you long enough, boy.”

  “Too long.” He planted a kiss on Val’s hair. “Sometimes I’m slow.”

  “We’re working on that.” Val leaned into him, and his chuckle flicked happiness over her heart.

  “About time, too.” Hettie surveyed them over her glasses. “In my day, goin’s on like that meant wedding bells. We do right nice weddings hereabouts, especially in October, when the weather cools down some.”

  That sounded perfect to Val, but she looked at Griffin, checking.

  He smiled with happiness lighting his eyes. “You did realize that was a proposal?”

  “It sounded like one, but I guess I didn’t formally accept. So yes, I’ll marry you.” As his smile spread, she added, “In October if you like.”

  “I do.” He lifted her hand to kiss it, then folded it against his heart.

  “Excellent.” Hettie gave them a sharp, approving nod. “Griffin, I’m sure your folks’ll have ideas. You just let me know however much or little y’all want me, or any of us, to do. The gazebo out back is pretty, or that little chapel in town. Whatever you want, we’ll do it up right, ’cause you’re family.”