He didn’t use the word 'want.'
“I’m coming.” Her face firmed as she made her decision. “I haven’t forgotten about Lily.”
“It’s going to be dangerous.”
“I know.” Riley’s body stiffened, her voice softening. “I understand that now.”
After she’d seen him in the cage. Guilt and self-hatred flared in his gut. How the hell could she stand to be near him after what she’d seen?
“But I can’t leave her there,” Riley added. “And I gave you my word.”
Soft, quiet words. He wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of the previous night. Luc sucked in a sharp breath, looking around for his clothes. If he kept it all bottled up inside, then maybe it wouldn’t show on his face? The hope… shattered… that a woman could ever truly want a monster like him.
“Did you get what I asked for then?” His voice was cool. Distant. Inside, however, he was an inferno of emotion. This was why he’d walked away from Abbie. Not just because he was a danger to them, but because he’d never wanted to see on her face what he could see on Riley’s.
“I got it. Packs are loaded in the jeep. We’ll have to move quickly. The settlement’s running high with tension, and nobody seems to know what to do, but that won’t last long. I give us an hour to get out of here.”
Luc turned away as he jerked his jeans on. There was a faint tremble in his hands. This was all the harsher because, for once, he’d actually started to believe that he could have a normal life.
No point dreaming of something he could never have. His only focus right now was Lily. And making sure that he got her back safely.
“Fine,” he said sharply. “Just let me get dressed and we’ll get going.”
16
The hot sun pounded down on her skin as the jeep roared through the desert.
Riley drew her knees up to her chest as Wade drove, watching sightlessly as the scenery raced past. She was so tired her eyes burned, but she knew she couldn’t sleep. Every so often, she glanced over her shoulder, checking for signs of pursuit.
Getting out of Absolution had been easier than getting in ever would be. Nobody had expected someone to steal a jeep and ride off with it. They’d idled through the streets to the main gates, a hat drawn down over Wade’s face. When the guard at the gate asked for their identity cards, Wade had punched him in the face and knocked him out cold. None of the guards on the top of the gate had seen, as the jeep was parked underneath. Riley had winched the gate open and they’d driven through, Wade giving the guards on the top of the gatehouse a loose wave.
Thirty seconds later, they’d opened fire, no doubt finding the prone form of their fallen comrade.
If McClain were in charge, that breach would never have happened, but the town was abuzz with disorder. Almost everybody had been called to meet in the town square.
She didn’t like leaving McClain behind to deal with the consequences of her actions, but she didn’t have a choice. Lily needed her more than McClain did, though the last she’d heard, he was still in the cage.
Wade looked over at her as he steered the jeep through a gulch in the desert. He’d been quiet since they left, as if something were bothering him. Or, if she were truthful, she knew precisely what was bothering him.
She just didn’t have the guts to confront it.
“It’s not your fault,” he said, referring to McClain.
“I know.” Hollow words.
Another minute of silence stretched out, the wind catching her hat. Riley slapped a hand to it, tugging it back into place so the broad brim sheltered her skin. Her hair was tucked up beneath it, and she wore men’s clothes, laced tight enough to fool anyone as to her gender. The backseat looked like an arsenal.
“I’m just trying to work out where this sense of duty comes from, why you feel like you need to take all of the blame? To shoulder burdens that aren’t your own,” he finally said, hands tight on the steering wheel. “You didn’t have to come.”
Riley nibbled on the hem of her sleeve, thinking about his question. It was the way her father had raised her. Abel Kincaid had been the leader of his community, and that meant responsibility, rather than entitlement. You did what needed to be done. Even if that meant going out alone to hunt a warg that had slaughtered a nearby homestead, when you knew your hands were beginning to shake, and you could barely lift the shotgun to your shoulder.
Sometimes, she wished her father hadn’t shouldered his responsibility that one time, but to do that would have made him less of the man he was.
Riley shook off the melancholy thoughts of her father. Wade was speaking about the here and now. About her. “Would you have come? If that was my daughter out there?”
Long, long silence. “Yes,” he finally said. He didn’t take his eyes off the faint track in front of them. “But only for you.”
Her breath caught. Whatever lay between them – this insane attraction, this invisible bond, this tension – she wasn’t the only one who felt it.
“I’m not so sure about that.” She leaned back against the side of the door, watching the stern line of his profile. Faint, tired lines creased at the corners of his eyes, his knuckles flexing and unclenching on the steering wheel. Small signs of a father’s fear, despite the cool manner he spoke with. “Would you leave a little girl – or boy – in Cane’s hands? Even if you didn’t know them?”
The wind ruffled his hair, stirring the black cambric of his shirt. “No.”
“You don’t want to care, do you? But you do. And I don’t think you’re asking me the question you want to.”
It was a dare. She’d felt the distance between them all morning. Riley shifted uneasily. Not even she was brave enough to bring up the night before, and her feelings about it. She didn’t even know what she did feel.
Horror. Fear. An odd mixture of pain and grief. Wade was a monster, and she couldn’t deny that. He would never be anything else. The only thing that let him cling to his semblance of humanity was the charm around his throat.
There was no cure for a warg. Only a bullet.
The thought hurt. She’d known from the start what he was, but somehow something had changed, and she’d started looking at him as a man.
If they ever had a life together, what type of life would it be? No settlement would take them in, unless they kept his secret, and she saw how that had turned out for McClain. Besides, Wade’s tone indicated he wouldn’t live that way. He couldn’t hide what he was. Not without burying himself in bitterness.
Wade stared ahead. “You thirsty?”
Riley felt a surge of both disappointment and relief. He hadn’t taken up her dare, and he wouldn’t. The question would go unsaid. She wouldn’t have to answer something she didn’t know if she could answer. Yet the tension between them remained.
“No,” she replied quietly. “I’m not.”
The minutes ticked by. Wade steered the jeep through a crossroads with grim determination, barely even glancing down the other road.
“Do you know where he’s going?” she asked.
“Did a lot of scouting when I first got here,” he replied, his knuckles tightening on the wheel as they hit a pothole. “They’ll need water and shelter, and they’re running with reivers, which limits their options. The old Copperplate Mine’s the only thing out this way that’s big enough to support them.” His lashes lowered. “Besides, I can see the tire marks from Colton’s jeep. I know where he’s going.”
Impulsively, she slid her hand over his thigh. Hard muscle clenched beneath the dark denim. “We’ll get her back, you know.”
He nodded sharply, as if unable to speak.
The day stretched out, shadows lengthening. Wade drove like a man possessed, handling the jeep with one hand, his mirrored shades hiding any sign of emotion. His jaw was locked tight, knuckles white around the wheel; however, Riley didn’t need to see his eyes to know what he was thinking.
“You used to be a bounty hunter out on the Rim,” she murmu
red, to distract him. “You ever cross the Great Divide, head east? My father said they have cities out there, huge walled cities, not like the slaver trading towns down south, along the New Mérida border.”
Wade glanced sideways. “Only once,” he admitted. “I was hunting a pack of shadow cats, and they took me across the Divide.” He shook his head. “It’s a different world out there. This side of the Divide, everyone’s scattered. Small settling towns, the occasional homestead… Timber’s scarce in the Wastelands, but across the Divide you can see whole forests of bleached, calcified trees. Ghost Forests, they call them, from when the meteor first hit. And there's... people there too. They call them mutos, those who were exposed to all manner of shit when the meteor struck.”
“And the cities?”
“Didn’t get that far. The Eastern Confederacy’s got roaming packs of enforcers running all the way along its state lines. They say they’re building a wall too. Like that ancient wall in the Orient that I read about once. Only this one’s to keep us out. The rabble, the reivers, and the revenants.”
“They don’t have revenants and wargs in the Confederacy?” she asked curiously. This far into the Wastelands, it wasn’t often that news came from the east – or that anyone traveled for more than a hundred miles in their whole life. An envious stirring irritated her.
“No. They hunt ‘em down, burn ‘em out. The military controls the whole Confederacy, and when they’re not fighting down along the New Mérida border, they send their troops out on scalping missions for warg packs, or revenants.” Wade’s lips twitched in a smile. “Why? You itching to leave the settlement?”
“No. I’m just… curious. I’ve never seen anything other than the Wastelands. I can’t even imagine what a city would look like.”
“Big,” he said with a shrug. “Huge buildings, like the ones that brushed the skies before the meteor. Had an old man down in Lexton tell me most of them folk live in the cities, where it’s safer. Call each other ‘citizen’ and they’re only allowed to wear the confederacy colors of white and green. Anyone who disobeys the law is executed.”
“Sounds kind of like what happens out here,” she mused.
“Yeah, only without the cameras watching your every move.”
She couldn’t fathom the idea. Peg had once owned a camera, an old family heirloom that took hours to develop each photo, though she'd stopped taking them once she ran out of paper for it. Imagine having cameras everywhere, to take photographs of everyone who passed?
“We’ve got busybodies instead,” she replied dryly. “Grateful to repeat every word they’ve heard, or anything they’ve seen. Whether it's true or not....” She shrugged. "Well, that's another story."
The jeep hit a bump, and Wade smoothed it out instantaneously. “Wouldn’t know. You get that a lot?”
“I’m an unmarried woman,” she said. “I have more people poking into my life than anyone else.”
A long moment of silence stretched out. Riley surveyed the barren plains, but there was no sign of movement out there. Only the hoodoos jutting in the distance.
“And no doubt your pick of men.” Soft words. He didn’t look at her, but she could tell that he was focused on her.
“I could have had a harem,” she replied. “That would have made the goodwives choke on their tea.”
“No husband though.”
“Never met anyone whose ideas meshed with mine.” A lot whose ideas involved her in the house, cooking dinner while the men tended the settlement. A hard deal for a woman who’d been raised to follow in her daddy’s footsteps. “Not that I’m against marriage or children,” she added quickly.
Another glance that scoured her like fire. Riley pretended she hadn’t noticed. “How long do you think it will take to get to the mine?”
“On these roads?” Wade cursed under his breath. “Probably noon tomorrow, if we’re lucky.”
His knuckles went white on the wheel again.
Orange flame crackled in the night, licking at the small twigs Riley fed into the fire. They’d come across a fallen tree – almost too good an opportunity to pass up out here – and decided to make camp for the night. Travelling in the dark was too dangerous, and although Wade was wound tighter than a child’s top, even he admitted a few hours’ rest would help him gain back his strength.
Turning warg took a lot out of a man, and he hadn’t been able to hunt. The beast inside him was restless still, driven to the edge by the threat to his daughter.
“Sounds like it’s more human than you realize,” she’d muttered, which had earned her a sharp look.
“Maybe I’m not the one doubting,” he shot back before striding out into the night to scout for danger, leaving her to stare after him.
Wade had been gone for over an hour. Riley stabbed a stick into the hot coals in short, angry movements. Just what had he meant by those words?
A twig snapped, and her head jerked up. Slowly, Wade came into focus, with an armful of smaller branches and brush – whitethorn by the look of it, and scrub oak. This close to the mountains, the trees began to appear, and even grow larger, with the occasional cottonwood grove. Out in the plains, the only thing one came across was agave, prickly pear, and cactus.
Wade dumped his armful by the fire, flame flickering over the silvery shine in his eyes. He wasn’t even attempting to hide the feral cast to his features. Not fully human tonight. His cheekbones looked like they’d been carved with a hatchet, and veins distended along the back of his hands a forearms.
As if aware of her scrutiny, he shot her a look, a challenge. Not human. Never will be. So what are you going to do about it?
Riley scowled back and tipped her chin up. Well, I’m not running. Even though I’ve seen you at your beastly worst.
His gaze dropped away, and he rubbed his fist absently.
Coward.
“Sit,” she said. “You’re wearing me out with all that pacing.”
He’d caught a Gila monster earlier, and Riley had carefully roasted it over the open flames. The meat sizzled, and she reached out and cut a chunk off, nearly burning her fingers. The first taste of it melted in her mouth. “Dinner’s ready.”
Wade sank onto a boulder on the other side of the fire – about as far away from her as he could get – and used his own knife to carve off a generous hunk of meat. Riley handed him the pack of flatbread she’d acquired at Absolution, and they ate in silence, using the bread as both plate and a wrap for the meat.
“What time do you think we’ll get moving?” she asked.
“Just before dawn. If we blow a tire or two, then we’ll never make it in time,” he replied, licking his fingers. Frustration darted across his face. He wanted to push on; so did she, but common sense had won out. The waiting was almost agonizing. Just ratcheting the tension higher.
Wade picked up a chunk of cottonwood and withdrew his knife. He started scraping the bark off the thick branch, his hands moving swiftly. Riley picked up her stick again and started drawing circles in the dirt at her feet.
Distraction.
“You couldn’t move quicker in your other form?” she asked quietly.
“I could, but I wouldn’t. I’m not in control when I’m in warg form.” Those silvery eyes raked over her, as if to show her precisely how much the warg shone through tonight. “Most likely, I’d be distracted by the hunt. Or… other desires.”
Her.
Riley stilled, the end of the stick trailing in the dirt.
“You look surprised.” His words were another challenge. “Don’t forget I’m a monster, Riley.”
Her breath caught. “That’s not fair.”
Wade looked at her, cold light shining in those blue eyes. Holding himself back. “Isn’t it? I remember the look on your face.” His tone softened, and he looked down at his hands, the knife making a curl of wood. It dropped to the ground. “I remember how you ran from the room. Do you think I wanted you to see me like that?”
“No.” Her voice was ve
ry small. “I knew what you were—”
“But you didn’t understand it,” he replied, carving another gentle curl in the wood, “until you saw it.”
Silence. Not even a hint of warg-song tonight.
Riley slashed the end of the stick through the figure she’d been drawing. “Do you want the truth?”
His gaze jerked to hers. His hands stopped their smooth motion.
“Do you want to know what I felt?” she asked, her voice rising. “Why the hell won’t you ask?”
His lips pressed tightly together.
She jerked to her feet. “Ask me! Why won’t you ask me?”
Wade stood, tossing aside the knife and the half-made carving. “Maybe I don’t want to fucking know,” he snapped, turning on his heel, as if he were going to leave.
Riley didn’t know what came over her. Leaping over the fire, she grabbed his arm and wrenched him toward her. “So you walk away? The way you always do?”
He spun, and the furious glitter in his eyes almost made her back away. “Don’t!” he snarled, stabbing a finger at her. “Don’t you fucking dare say that!”
“Or?”
His gaze half-shuttered. Slowly, his body turned toward her, every muscle bunching as if violence rode through him. “Fine,” he snarled. “You want to know why I won’t ask? Because I know the answer. I saw it on your face as I writhed in that goddamned cage. I was everything you hated, everything you feared, and you couldn’t handle it. You ran.”
Her chest was heaving. Riley stared up at him, smoke curling around them as the wind changed. “You weren’t there,” she said weakly. “That wasn’t you.”
“I was there,” he snapped. “That’s the thing nobody will admit, Riley. I was there. That was me. That’s the true curse. That’s why I hate it so much, because it’s like admitting the worst part of yourself exists. Every horrible little thought you ever have swims to the surface, but multiplied a hundredfold, and you have to ride with it, aware of everything. I wanted blood, and I wanted flesh, and I wanted you.” His hot gaze ran down her figure. “And I hate that more than anything. That I could hurt you, and not be able to stop myself.”
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