BROKEN BLADE

by J. C. Daniels

  Chang didn’t even come through this door.

  But I wasn’t staying out there, smelling death.

  In the bathroom, I turned on the faucet, deliberately keeping my attention away from the shower. Memories danced in the back of my mind, but they’d have to come out to play some other time.

  I had to get the information I needed and get the hell out of here.

  Soon.

  A whisper of air brushed across my skin as I cupped my hands and splashed water over my face.

  It was still dripping down my cheeks and neck when I lifted my head and saw him standing behind me. He’d already changed clothes and washed up. Violence and temper all but clung to him.

  His eyes rested on the tattoo on my neck and my skin burned. “Is it done?”

  Looking down at the colorful lines and images, I studied it.

  “It’s done.”

  He gave a short nod and then moved away. I breathed a little easier when he wasn’t so close. The heat of him didn’t beat against me so strongly and I didn’t have the struggle raging so hard inside me—where part of me wanted to just fling myself against him even as the rest of me wanted to get away. As far away as I could, as fast as I could.

  I felt the heat of his gaze burning into me as I dried my hands and face off. Without looking at him, I said, “If you expect an apology from me over Sam, you’re going to wait a long time.”

  “She was mine to handle.”

  I flicked him a glance. “Yours to handle…maybe. But I’m the one who laid in her own waste and blood in the mountains, and if she’d minded her own business…?” I shrugged. “I figured she owed me the blood more than you.”

  The storm clouds in his eyes turned nearly black. “If you wanted blood from her, you should have done more than just shoot her.”

  “I didn’t need more.” I’d lived through torture. I’d never be able to dish it out now. Even if Jude was put in front of me, completely helpless, I don’t know if I’d be able to torture him—kill him, oh, yes. My hands trembled a little as I hung the towel back up, smoothing it down so that it hung precisely centered on the sculpted metal bar. Unable to avoid it any longer, I turned around and looked at Damon. “It’s your turn now. I need that kid’s name.”

  He stared at me, long seconds ticking away as he said nothing, just watching me.

  The very air in the room seemed to weigh down on us as I waited for a response. Then finally, he dipped his head in a slow nod. “Chang says Doyle would know the number, right?”

  The tension slowly melted away. I cleared my throat and hooked my thumbs in my pockets to keep from fidgeting. “That’s what he told me.”

  Damon shoved away from the wall, prowling the bathroom. Unable to look away, I stared at him and then my heart slammed against my ribs hard as he stopped by the shower, resting one hand against the glass wall.

  Why did he have to stop there? By the damn shower.

  Jerking my attention away, I busied myself with the toes of my boots. Everybody else found them so damned fascinating. Maybe I’d just see if I couldn’t find what it was that was so interesting.

  “I’ll talk to the kid, then. Once I have the information, I’ll call you, set up the time to meet at your office.”

  Nodding, I twisted the towel and then grimaced as it rubbed against my bandaged palm. I needed to brush up on my knife skills again. I had to be doing something with my hands—being still just wasn’t something that came naturally. “There might be a problem with the office. If there is—”

  “There’s not going to be.”

  Eyes narrowed, I slid him a glance.

  He had that implacable I-know-what-in-the-hell-I’m-talking-about tone to his voice. Damon was an arrogant son of a bitch, but he only had that tone when he was absolutely sure about things. He didn’t do wrong very well. So he didn’t use that I’m-right tone unless he was, in fact, right.

  “And how are you so certain of that?” I asked him.

  “I just am.” He still wasn’t looking at me and I knew he wasn’t going to explain anything any further than that.

  My belly churned.

  “Damon, if you’ve been paying my rent, I’m going to bloody you.”

  He slid me a dark look. “Go ahead.” Shoving away from the shower, he came closer. Violence, danger and anger radiated from him and fear pulsed inside me, despite the fact that I knew, deep inside, that he wouldn’t hurt me. Damon was one of the few people who was safe.

  Too bad my body didn’t get that message.

  He reached up and my breath froze in my lungs as he slid a hand inside my vest. The back of his hand brushed against my breast and the black band of terror grabbed me, held tight.

  “You’re so fucking afraid now, Kit,” he whispered, dipping his head to murmur into my ear. “It’s killing me.”

  Then he lifted his head and reached down. He caught my left hand and pushed one of my knives into it. “Bloody me.”

  I jerked my hand away—or I tried. He still held my wrist and he wasn’t letting go.

  “That’s a silver blade, you son of a bitch.”

  “I know.” He guided my blade to his chest, his grip relentless. “Bloody me. I’d feel better for it. And if it would do something to take that fear away...” A muscle pulsed in his jaw and he was standing close enough, I could hear the thunderous sound of his heart, racing far too fast. I didn’t have ears as sensitive as his—if he’d been standing any farther away, I couldn’t have heard it. As it was, though, the roar of blood in my ears, the racing of his heart, the adrenaline crashing inside me and the torment I saw on his face...the torment I felt in me...it was too much. “Sam’s not the only one who owes you blood, baby girl.”

  Once more, I tried to twist out of his grip. “Damn it, let go.”

  Swearing, he dropped my wrist. I put the knife away and darted toward the door.

  He slammed it shut before I managed to get it open an inch.

  “Kit...”

  “Don’t, okay?” I leaned my brow against the wood and closed my eyes. “I need to get out of here. I need to breathe. I need to...”

  His fingers brushed across my shoulder and he pressed his head to the back of mine. “I miss you.”

  Tears burned my eyes and although it didn’t seem possible, the ache in my heart spread.

  I really, really wish that what I’d told Chang was true. That the woman I’d been was dead and gone, that nothing of my old life mattered. If I could believe that, then it wouldn’t hurt so much to stand there.

  But I wasn’t going to make myself better, or stronger, or fight my way out of this hell I currently lived in if I kept lying to myself. About anything. “I miss you, too.”

  He reached up, resting a hand on my hip.

  “But that doesn’t mean anything,” I told him. “Not if I can’t find me again. I’m still lost, Damon. I have to find who I am...I have to find my way again.”

  Easing around, I stared into his eyes. Close. He was so close.

  And even though I knew he wouldn’t hurt me, the fear was there. He went to pull back and I surprised us both by reaching up and fisting my hands in his shirt, holding him there.

  His eyes widened and he stilled, stayed there, one arm braced on the wall by my head while his hand rested on my hip. I could handle this, I decided. The fear was there, but I couldn’t expect that to go away so easily. And…hell. It was Damon. Just having him this close had my heart racing and not all of it had to do with fearful things.

  Curious, I placed my hand to his chest and as his heart slammed against my palm, I felt the way my own sped up in answer.

  I did miss this…even when it wasn’t a spur of the moment kiss. I missed this. I missed us.

  But I wasn’t ready.

  “That day, up in the mountains,” I said quietly. “I told you that I was broken...so far from me that I didn’t think I’d ever find my way back.”

  A harsh, ragged breath escaped him. “I know.”

  “You told m
e you’d find it for me.” The heat of him scalded me, even as it warmed me. “I didn’t want to hear it then...and I can’t be sorry for that. I can’t let somebody find my way for me. I just can’t. I’ve got to do it for myself. But I’m trying. Okay?”

  He stroked a hand down my hair. “I told you…I’ll be waiting.”

  “It may never happen.” Turning my face into his hand, I kissed his rough palm. It hurt more than a little as I pushed him away. “You have to understand that.”

  He was quiet as he stepped back.

  Just before I slipped out the door, he asked softly, “Do you want it to happen?”

  The question stopped me in my tracks and I looked back at him. “Do I want what?”

  “Us. This.” Those eyes watched me, so carefully. “I’ll wait. Forever. It doesn’t matter how long. But is that what you want from me? Are you coming back to me?”

  “I…” I licked my lips and shook my head. It shouldn’t be such a hard question. “I don’t know.”

  He smiled sadly, looking away. “That’s fine. Like I said. I’ll be waiting.”

  “Even if I don’t know?”

  “Yeah. Even if.”

  Chapter Nine

  Damon had been right—big surprise. I had come into my office with half a mind of calling my landlord and figuring out just how my office was still mine, but then I’d made the mistake of looking out the window.

  Right there.

  It had happened right there.

  That was where I’d been standing when Xavier had appeared out of the shadows.

  Seconds later, a dart had appeared in my chest.

  I don’t have to break you to fuck you up.

  He’d been right—he’d fucked me up and then Jude had been the one to break me.

  And here I was, huddling on the floor again, clutching a knife and wondering if there was a way to cut the memories out of me.

  The phone rang. The noise of it was so loud, so unexpected, when I gasped, it caught in my throat, choking me.

  Such a simple sound, really, but one I hadn’t heard in months. It flooded me with apprehension and instead of taking the call, I let it roll over to voice mail.

  I could take a few more minutes, enjoy my little breakdown.

  I could ignore the calls, after all. I still hadn’t decided I was going to go back to work, right?

  I could even ignore the rippling presence of something…other that I could sense just outside my office. A were. He’d been trailing me off and on half the day and I didn’t want to deal with him. Her. Whichever it was.

  Whoever it was. I wasn’t ready for this. Whoever it was, he or she was coming closer.

  I’m not here, I mouthed. Office closed. I’ve closed up shop.

  But even as I thought that, the presence retreated and I blew out a relieved breath. Good. Very good. I didn’t need to think about working. Not at all. I was barely able to handle the cakewalk job that TJ had thrown at me. No way could I handle anything more complicated.

  I’d just…sit here. Catch my breath.

  Ten minutes later, I was still doing just that when the phone started to ring again.

  “I can’t keep doing this,” I whispered. My voice sounded terribly loud, terribly raw.

  The phone went silent and I closed my eyes. My world had already ended.

  The monster had already grabbed me.

  And despite what I tried to tell other people, despite what I’d tried to tell myself, I had lived to tell about it.

  Gritting my teeth, I shoved myself upright and looked around. The walls were bare. All my lovely, lovely weapons were either stashed on my body—and there weren’t many of those—or they were back in my room at TJ’s. The place was naked without them.

  I felt naked without them.

  But I didn’t need a damned sword to talk to a couple of cats about a pregnant girl.

  The phone started to ring again.

  Once.

  As I continued to stare at the bare walls, the seconds ticked away. When the phone rang again a minute later, I groaned. There was only one person who’d call like that and I’d just gotten done talking to him about—

  Frowning, I checked the time.

  Damn. It had been more than two hours. Apparently, my little mental breakdown had cost me more time than I’d realized. Crossing to my desk, I caught the phone in the middle of the ring and lifted it to my ear.

  “I’m already a nervous wreck,” I said bluntly without waiting for Damon to say anything. “The last thing I need is for you to start that annoying ring thing. It’s like an ice pick in my ear.”

  “You answered,” he said levelly. “I have the kid. It’s Marcus...remember him?”

  Yes. I remembered him. One of Doyle’s friends. Charming. Liked to play Mortal Kombat. Had an annoying habit of referring to me as food. If he did it again, I’d hurt him.

  I didn’t even realize I’d pulled a blade until just then, when I looked down and saw I’d buried the tip of it in my desk. Swallowing, I said, “Yes. I remember.”

  “He mentioned a girl. Hard to say if it’s the right one since you won’t give me much info on her, but he did have a human, or mostly, human girlfriend. He remembered that she smelled like magic…sorta. Reminded him of you. Think that could be her?”

  I frowned. “Yeah, maybe.” A lot of people took me for a witch at first. Marcus was young enough, inexperienced enough, that it was a fair assumption. Tugging the phone number from my pocket, I rubbed my finger over it and tried to figure this whole puzzle out.

  Marcus was a mouthy brat of a kid, but he didn’t have anything really mean inside him.

  What made her so afraid?

  “Is he willing to talk to her?”

  Damon’s voice went flat. “If he’s the father, he’ll live up to his responsibilities.”

  And that was pretty much that. If Damon said it, it would be done. “Fine. I’ll get in touch with her and see when I can work out for her to come here. I’ll call.”

  Hanging up, I leaned against the desk and closed my eyes. Here we go.

  An hour after I placed the first phone call, my skin went tight.

  I pulled my gun out and rested it on my thigh as I listened, ears pricked, ready. Quiet. Male. Full of magic. Knows how to move—

  My brain put together all of those little clues and fed me a picture but I was still processing it when the knock thudded and Justin called out, “Open up.”

  I don’t want to, I mouthed at the door.

  “I don’t give a shit if you want to or not.”

  I flinched as the wards sparked around me. Justin was a witch. The wards would fight him but if he really wanted to power through, he could. Not everybody could do it, but he most definitely could.

  “Fine,” I muttered, shoving back from the desk. I still held my gun in my right hand and it rubbed against the slowly-healing wound. I gripped it tighter and took a little bit of relief in the pain that jolted through me as the bandage dug into tender flesh.

  Wards hissed and hummed in my head as I deactivated them, one at a time. As the last one went down with a sigh, I opened the door and glared at Justin.

  He grinned back at me. The fading sunlight glowed off the silver worked into the sleeves of his black jacket, the only thing from his Banner uniform that he wore; under it, he had on a green tank top and a pair of battered jeans. “You’re out of uniform,” I said. “If you’re not here officially, I don’t have to talk to you and I don’t want to.”

  Before I could slam the door in his face, he slapped a hand against it. “Actually, I’m on probation. I had a...slipup...with one of my superiors and I’m being disciplined.”

  “They’re wasting their time. You and discipline don’t even have a passing acquaintance.” I put my shoulder into it as I shoved the door closed. One thing about not being entirely human–I was strong. And I was actually stronger physically than he was.

  But then I felt the burn of magic rush into the door as he decided to level t
he playing field. “That’s cheating,” I said. “If you can’t do it with your muscles, you shouldn’t be able to fall back on magic.”

  He smiled at me. “Hey, I’m the one who taught you some of the dirty tricks to use when you can’t rely on muscles.” With a wink, he sauntered inside. “I mean, I wonder, where on earth did Damon Lee get the idea to use magically charged ammo against one of the witches he took out?”

  I glared at his back. “Hey, it’s not like somebody couldn’t come to the logical conclusion on their own.”

  “It’s not all that logical for weres.” He shrugged. “They aren’t human. They’re were. They think with claws and teeth first. Weapons are a nuisance and unless you make them the option, weapons aren’t going to be their default choice.”

  I curled my lip at him, but he wasn’t paying attention to me. He was staring at the bare walls that had once held all my weapons. “Are you going to put them back up?”

  “I’m not back,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and staring at the dull tiles of my floor. Easier to do that than to stare at the naked walls. “I’m just helping out somebody TJ knows.”

  “Hmm.”

  The tone in his voice had me looking up.

  I narrowed my eyes when I saw the expression on his face.

  “What?”

  He just held up his hands. “Nothing. Not a thing, Kitty. Not a thing.”

  The look on his face wasn’t a nothing sort.

  But fine. If he kept his nothing to himself, then I didn’t have to worry about it. Heading over to my desk, I settled down and laid the Desert Eagle on the surface, eying the phone. Maybe I should call again. Maybe—

  Justin settled in the seat across from me.

  I rubbed a finger down the small strip of recycled paper and eyed him narrowly. “If you’re not here to nag me into working and you’re not here for something official, why are you here?”

  “I felt the wards.” He shrugged and glanced around. “Colleen and I have been trading off on charging them. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to keep them ready for you...” He smiled at me. “Just in case.”