Slade

by Sarah McCarty

  After she finished reading the entire file, she carefully closed it and pushed it back to him. Her face was pale. “Why?”

  “Why did they torture and experiment on her? Because they feel might makes right.”

  “So do you.” “To a point, yeah.” Turning to the photo section, he shoved the file back at her. “But not like that. No one has the right to do that to anyone.”

  Reflexively, she looked down and touched on one paragraph in particular. Opening her palm over the paper, she stroked it, offering intangible comfort to a woman she’d only read about. “Is she all right now?”

  It was the photo and caption describing how Miri had gotten the permanent scar on her face. It took a hell of a lot to scar a wolf permanently. A lot of pain delivered to the point of near death. Pain that had to have been sustained over time as the body was defeated in its effort to heal. His hand closed into a fist. Miri carried the scars on her soul as well. And there were times when even his brother and her daughter couldn’t fight the black memories, but those episodes were getting further apart, though he doubted they’d ever totally leave. “Jace is helping her through.”

  “What happened to her daughter, Faith?”

  “Jace brought her home.”

  After a lot of suffering on everyone’s part, but Jace had promised Miri, and a Johnson never broke a promise.

  “Where does Jace live?”

  “With Miri.”

  “But not here?

  “Nah. Jace went wolf on us.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Jace always leaned toward the wild side, but after he married Miri, it became more evident. He’s heading up one of the D’Nally clans now. He fits right in with the wolves.”

  She glanced at the slides and then the files. “I need to meet him and his family. If his daughter isn’t having issues, her blood may hold the answer we need.”

  “Or maybe theirs?” he asked.

  “At this point I’ll take everything I can get.”

  “They’ll be coming in tomorrow.”

  “You’ll let me know when they arrive?”

  “I don’t expect there’s any way you’ll avoid it. He and Miri will likely come in under heavy guard, and that always kicks up a ruckus.”

  “Why?”

  “Jace’s pack is particular as to whom comes near their Alphas. They don’t acknowledge the McClarens’ claim of family, so, in their eyes, they’re in hostile territory.”

  “Would the McClarens hurt them?”

  Stir their irritation a bit. Taunt their overprotective instincts, maybe, but hurt? Slade recalled Ian D‘Nally’s size, hawkish features, and intense personality that commanded absolute loyalty. Hard to imagine anyone being able to hurt the D’Nally. “No.”

  She shook her head. “Then why?”

  Slade shrugged. “Wolf culture is very insular. The D’Nallys are old school, even for wolves. They view the McClarens as modern.”

  “They think Derek is modern?”

  Slade smiled. “Maybe even downright revolutionary.”

  “Good God.”

  “Yeah, it does boggle the mind. What’s your family like?”

  “Dead.”

  It was his turn to blink. One word. No emotion. No more explanation. And if he just went by her facial expression, no impact on her emotions, but the energy that flared outward in the split second before she responded contained everything she was suppressing. Grief. Hate. Rage. One hell of a lot of rage. Interesting.

  Jane motioned toward the file cabinets. “Are there any other files I should read?”

  “Little Penny’s, and Faith’s.”

  “Who’s Penny?”

  “We don’t know much about her. She was a victim of a Sanctuary experiment.”

  Not by a blink of an eyelash did Jane reveal the nausea he could feel rolling through her as she asked, “You said ‘little Penny.’ Just how old is she?”

  That kind of control only came with pain. A lot of it. Slade tossed a file in front of Jane, reaching out mentally to soothe her discomfort.

  “Penny is a little over a year now.”

  Jane skimmed the first page before looking up. “You couldn’t fix what they’d done?”

  “No.” The answer rapped out with all the frustration Slade felt inside.

  “Where does that leave her?”

  “With the D’Nallys, the McClarens, and the Johnsons standing at her back.” And with a very uncertain future. Being neither wolf nor vampire, her altered physiology held untapped secrets many would like to exploit. “We’ve made no secret of our protection.”

  “Her family wouldn’t?”

  Was that a flash of empathy? Slade settled his hip on the side of the desk, tapping her energy as he explained, “In wolf society, children are gifts from God.”

  She tapped Penny’s file. “So how did this gift get misplaced?”

  “Wolf culture is also full of myth.”

  “And?”

  “One of those myths is that a child born deformed is more than a genetic anomaly, it’s—”

  “Bad luck,” she finished for him.

  “Yes.”

  “It’s a shame that every culture—human, vampire, or wolf—seems to have beliefs in omens and bad luck.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So, what myth put Penny in Sanctuary hands?”

  That was definitely anger emanating from Jane, but too strong to be impersonal. “Deformed children are almost unheard of among wolves. Without Marc—Penny’s real father—knowing anything about it, his wife followed ancient custom and took the child into the woods, leaving her to die.”

  “What would drive a mother to do such a thing?”

  “Fear for her family’s reputation. Selfish worry for her status.” Slade ran his hand through his hair. “Hell, a thousand things that make no sense to anyone.”

  “Didn’t anyone look for her?”

  “When Marc came back from a hunt and went to look for her, he couldn’t find her.”

  “Because Sanctuary had taken her.” Jane sighed heavily before asking, “Who found her?”

  “Jace did. Many months later. Hooked up to all kinds of devices, undernourished, filthy, and afraid of contact.”

  Especially mental contact, but Slade didn’t reveal that yet.

  “And?”

  Slade shrugged. “What do you think? Jace brought her home to the Circle J.”

  “That must have been hard.”

  “Not for Jace. He made that little girl a promise in that hell hole.”

  “I meant for Miri, since her baby was still missing.”

  “It was hell, especially with the little one so changed.”

  “Changed?”

  “The experiments Sanctuary performed changed her from werewolf to something between were and vampire.”

  Mutant.

  The thought projected from Jane to Slade. Hard, angry, protective. None of that showed in her analytical question. “Were you able to undo the damage?”

  “No.”

  “But you tried?”

  Six ways to Sunday, but he hadn’t been able to alter Penny’s chemistry one iota. Not one. “Yes.”

  Jane’s fingers curled over his fist. Her energy smoothed over his with the same comfort.

  “At least you tried.”

  Apparently Jane wasn’t the only one who projected. Opening his fist, Slade took her hand in his. Her energy immediately flicked away from his. Had the connection been unconscious? “Eventually I’ll succeed.”

  Withdrawing her hand, Jane asked, “What does being different mean for Penny in regard to her future in the pack?”

  “I don’t know, but Jace, Marc, and Miri will see to it that she’s fine.”

  “The father is in the picture?”

  “Yes.”

  She drummed her fingertips on the desktop. “And Jace allowed it?”

  “Why the hostility? Marc didn’t know what his wife was doing.”

  Anger pulsed off Jane in temp
o with her fingers. “How do you know that?”

  “Because I know Marc.”

  “And that was it? They just handed Penny over to the man who lost her in the first place?”

  Slade shook his head. “Jace took vengeance in that little girl’s name. The war between Sanctuary has definitely kicked up a notch after discovering Penny in that dirt cellar.”

  Jane drummed her fingers faster on the file and eyed Miri’s picture. The anger that had been there before built to rage. “It must have been hard for Miri to give Penny up. It would be like losing her daughter all over again.”

  “By Wolf law, Miri didn’t have to give Penny back.”

  “But she did?”

  “Yes, she did, though it about killed her.”

  “Then why did she?”

  “Because she’s Miri, and the pack’s female Alpha, and it was best for the pack that Marc recover his daughter.”

  “I wouldn’t have given her back.”

  Slade’s brow arched.

  “Would you? He lost her once, with terrible results.”

  Slade shrugged. “I’m not pack.”

  “That wasn’t an answer.”

  His gaze met hers. “If you’d wanted her, I would have made sure she stayed yours and to hell with the consequences.”

  Jane blinked and a bit of that swirling rage faded. “But Jace didn’t.”

  Slade shook his head. “Jace gave Miri exactly what she wanted.” A man she could rely on and a man who understood pack.

  “But—”

  He sighed. “The pack of D’Nallys that Jace heads, the Tragallions, are steeped in tradition and prone to defend their family. Penny was and always will be family.”

  “Which means?”

  “That’s the same way Jace thinks, which is why he hasn’t transitioned well into modern times.”

  “Did Marc take Penny away?”

  “Hell no. Wolves aren’t like that. Children are cherished, in many ways raised by all the pack. Once Jace made the decision to stay Tragallion and take the position of Alpha, Miri didn’t have to give up anything.”

  He pointed to Penny’s file. “Are you going to read that?

  “I’m afraid to.”

  “Still sure no one can be all bad?”

  The tips of her fingers vibrated against the folder. “No.”

  And she hated him for that because she wanted to keep the shield of innocence that said there was a difference between speculating on the existence of evil and it truly existing. He understood that, too.

  “I can’t believe that all Sanctuary vampires are this sick.”

  Slade sighed. “Neither could I. I’ve often wondered if the genetic mutation that takes a man from human to vampire affects certain centers of the mind.”

  “It didn’t affect yours or your brothers.”

  “Maybe because we’re brothers, converted by family?”

  “Interesting theory.” She tapped the file. “Does conversion affect the women the same as men?”

  “There appears to be a gender difference to the way humans react to potential conversion.”

  Some women went insane. Some died. Some converted. The possible “whys” were multifaceted and intriguing, so he wasn’t surprised when Jane’s excitement spiked. “Have you done any research?”

  Sighing, Slade ran his hand through his hair. “There hasn’t been time.”

  “Because of this war?”

  “Yes.”

  He could literally feel her concentration as her mind raced through the ramifications, feel the excitement surge as she explored the possibilities, feel her energy slow as abstract became reality, feel her fear. Then he felt that indefinable something that removed all emotion from the thought process and left her energy . . . blank.

  “Exactly how much danger am I in?”

  He wanted to pull her close. Instead, he brushed the back of his finger down her cheek. “A hell of a lot less now.”

  She flinched away from his touch. “I meant because you have this idea that we’re a match.”

  She’d put that together.

  “Don’t look so surprised,” she said when she saw his reaction. “Putting abstract pieces of a puzzle together is one thing I’m good at, and it only makes sense if two of the Johnson men produced babies in situations where no one else could, that Sanctuary would be especially interested in the women the Johnsons are interested in.”

  “Your research has already put you in danger.”

  “But this perceived attraction makes me more of a target.”

  He owed her the truth. “They’re going to be fixated on you now.”

  Which meant, as long as Sanctuary existed, she was never going to be able to go back to her life. And considering they were immortal, that was a hell of a long time. The realization should have sparked some change in Jane’s emotions. Instead, she flipped the files closed and stacked them neatly, as if he hadn’t just told her she had no future.

  “Then I guess I’d better find a way to make myself unattractive.”

  “No way to do that.”

  She looked around the lab, taking in the equipment and supplies. He had a well-stocked laboratory. “I imagine I can be quite toxic when necessary.”

  Slade’s gaze followed hers. Son of a bitch! He grabbed her arm. “You will not experiment on yourself.”

  An emotion flashed through the blankness. Murderous rage. She didn’t like the thought of anyone commanding her. In contrast to the emotion, her voice was soft, almost sweet. “Forbid away if it makes you feel better.”

  Slade didn’t care if she wanted him dead. As long as she was alive, he would deal with it. “I’m serious, Jane.”

  “So am I.”

  His rage rose to meet hers. “I mean what I said. I’m not going to let you harm yourself in some mistaken belief that I can’t keep you safe.”

  “I’ll keep myself safe.”

  The hell she would.

  She didn’t argue, just kept staring at him with that implacable regard that said so much more than words. She didn’t trust him.

  A knock came at the door. Shit. Slade backed toward it, watching her, his nerves jumping with premonition. A probe of her mind revealed nothing. Son of a bitch! The one person who could lock him out was the one person who never ought to be able to.

  He opened the door. Tobias stood on the other side, one of the new guns in his hands. He held it out.

  “These have an issue.”

  As if he needed this now. Looking back at Jane, Slade said, “You need to read Faith’s and Penny’s files. Like Joseph, they’re half vampire. Read all the files. Every word. There might be some help in Penny’s if you look at what I did to stabilize her. I used the same technique on Joseph, but without the same success. Faith is healthy. She has no apparent problems.”

  “All right.”

  Still sweet as pie. There was nothing to give him pause in the response, but the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He wanted nothing more than to walk over there, pull her into his arms, and make love to her until there were no more barriers between them, no more distrust. Instead he turned back to Tobias. “What seems to be off?”

  “The beam loses power over distance.”

  Which meant it lost its ability to kill. “Shit. The refraction must be off.”

  “Two teams are going out in three days. We could really use these guns.”

  “I’ll have them ready.” The tiredness that had been getting stronger for the last year covered Slade in a wave. He pushed it back. Somehow, he’d have them ready.

  With a jerk of his chin, Tobias indicated where Jane sat, seemingly absorbed with the files in front of her. “Will she be able to help?”

  “I’m hoping so.”

  “Good. It’d be a shame for Allie and Caleb to lose their little boy.”

  “I thought you believed four Johnson men were enough.”

  “With Jace turned wolf, there’s hope for the kid.”

  “Not if Caleb ha
s anything to say about it.”

  “Hell, Caleb’s not far from wolf himself. None of you are.”

  Slade laughed. “So the McClarens keep saying. Is Jace here?”

  “They’re on schedule.”

  “How are they doing?”

  “Miri’s a little shaken after the last attack. They came right into the compound.”

  “Sanctuary’s getting bolder.”

  Tobias handed him the gun and smiled coldly. “That’s okay. We’re getting meaner.”

  Slade looked at the gun. It was going to take days to fix this. If he put it aside, the wolves would understand, but they were already up against superior numbers. They didn’t need to be out-weaponed. Didn’t deserve to be. What he needed was more hours in the day. He thought of all the changes in the past year, all the ways he’d come up with to kill the enemy. All the ways the enemy had come up with to kill them. The endless cycle with no end because he couldn’t find the edge they needed. But he would. Eventually, he would.

  “Yeah. We are.”

  10

  CLOSING the door, Slade turned around, the gun in his hand. He looked entirely too natural that way for her peace of mind. Too sexy. He also looked incredibly tired.

  “Anything I can help you with,” Jane asked, despite her best intentions. She knew how it was to have people relying on you 24/7, to face impossible demands because it meant life or death.

  Hefting the gun, he admitted, “I could use a few more hours in the day.”

  “What? With all your magical powers, you haven’t managed that?”

  He tossed the gun to his other hand. “I’m working on it.”

  Damn him for being agreeable. It made it that much harder to hate him. “What’s wrong with the guns?”

  “One of the refractions is likely off.”

  “You say that like fixing it is no big deal.”

  “It’ll just take time.”

  “Time you don’t have.”

  He didn’t deny the guess. “I’ll find it.”

  “It can’t wait?”

  “No.”

  Paper rustled under her fingers. “Neither can Joseph.”

  Slade set the gun on one of the long tables. “I know.”

  Yes, he did. Jane could feel Slade’s determination and frustration as though it were her own. It was disconcerting, not only because of the force of the emotion but also because it seemed so natural in its blending with her own. Experimentally, she put her wall around it. There was a start and then a withdrawal. Interesting. She apparently did have some control.