“You might want to keep drilling it into my head if you want it to stick,” he told her.
She definitely wanted it to stick. It was different for him. He could leave, while she couldn’t. She couldn’t live with that—the loving more than being loved, the needing more than being needed. It went against every certainty she’d held dear as a wolf.
His lips skimmed her temple. “But I’ve got to warn you, there’s no way it ever will.”
“Why not?”
“Because I claimed you and I have a tendency to hold on to what’s mine.”
She elbowed him in the stomach. “I’m no longer yours.”
Not by a whisper of breath did he indicate that the blow affected him. “I hate to break it to you, sweet, but in the last year I did a lot of research in my free time.”
“Into what?”
“Pack law.”
Shoot. “So?”
“So, I know there’s no divorce in pack law, and separations can only be instigated by a male.”
“When I get home, I’ll have my cousin do it.”
“Hmm.” The tantalizing brush of his lips traveled down her cheek, approached her mouth. “But we’re not home.”
“So, what will that get you?”
The kiss on her lips was quick, efficient, not the lingering exploration her body hungered for.
“Time to change your mind.”
She turned to see his face, angry at herself for responding, angry at him for teasing. Her elbows bumped the wall and his chest, one after the other, in a discordant awkwardness that only increased her frustration. His gray eyes glowed in the darkness of their safe place, not flinching from hers. His confidence irked her more than it should. She grabbed his coat off the floor. “Then I guess that also gives me time to change yours.”
His “You’re welcome to try” was slightly muffled by the whisper of leather over her skin.
She pulled the long swathe of her hair free of the collar. “Thank you. I will.”
While she was off balance, Jace tucked his fingers under the lapel and lowered his head, drawing her up on tiptoe as he did. His breath stroked her lips, his energy smoothed along her nerves, and that fast desire flared between them. “You do that and see what it gets you.”
She had to concentrate very hard to find her voice. “Is that a threat?”
If it wasn’t, her knees were quaking for nothing and the she-wolf in her was getting all aflutter for no reason. “Nah, just something to keep you thinking.”
There was nothing to think about. “We’re not compatible.”
He lifted her a little higher, stretched the tension between them a little tighter. “You feel damn compatible to me, right now.”
“That’s just hormones. That doesn’t mean anything.”
His laugh was a caress unto itself, spreading over her hungry senses, feeding her his breath and his scent. “Just nothing. Another thing I discovered in my research is those hormones mean everything in were mating.”
Miri dropped her forehead to Jace’s hard chest, removing the temptation of his lips from her sight. As if her body could be fooled by so paltry a move. Her mate was standing before her and all it would take to meld their bodies was for her to rise up onto her toes and press her mouth to his. Judging from the heat arcing between them, she wouldn’t even have to do the pressing. He’d handle it for her. The weakness that spread through her wasn’t entirely due to her illness. “Not this time.”
He released the right lapel. The small change in pressure tipped her off balance. Cupping her head, he steadied her. His eyes glowed. “I can wait.”
“Huh. You have no patience.”
“When it comes to you, I have all you need.”
She severely doubted that. She’d changed so much, felt so broken inside. “You’re wasting your time.”
The glow in his eyes intensified. “It’s mine to waste.”
There wasn’t much she could say to that. Jace wasn’t the type to be dissuaded by words.
“So while I’m waiting,” he continued, “why don’t you tell me all you remember about that day.”
She didn’t want to. Didn’t want to relive the loss. But there was no help for it, so she leaned in, letting him support her. “Where do you want me to start?”
He rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone, an abstract gesture of a distracted man. “Where did all this take place?”
“At one of their compounds.”
“I mean, what kind of room.”
“A surgical room. I was supposed to be going in for my daily exam.”
“Describe it to me. Everything you can remember.”
She did, closing her eyes, picturing the bright light gleaming off the polished equipment. She’d been in it so many times, lain there helplessly while they performed their tests, with nothing to do but count the tiles in the ceiling. She knew it down to the smallest detail. She described it to him, taking him through the sterile room, starting at the far corner and working him back to the middle, where the big cabinet was.
“What do you see on the cabinet?”
The mental image blurred. She couldn’t remember.
“Easy, sweet. Just take your time and walk me through it.”
Walk me through it.
He was in her mind and she hadn’t even known it. “If you’re going to intrude, you might as well be useful.”
“Sorry. It just happened.”
“Invading someone’s mind just happens?”
“With you it does. You invite me in, and I go.”
“I did not invite you in!” Had she?
“Not knowingly. I’m beginning to understand that.” He pushed her hair off her face, his eyes kind, his expression hard. “But I still need to know that room and everything in it.”
“Why?”
“It might give us a clue as to what we’re looking for.”
She’d do whatever it took to find the clue that would link her to her daughter. “How do I do it?”
“What?”
“How do I invite you in?”
“You just did.” His smile softened the planes of his face but the wildness inside him had never been more evident. She immediately had second thoughts.
“Too late,” he whispered.
And it was. He was in her mind, her memories. The pressure was incredible. She grabbed his hand and held on, understanding, even as she did it, how irrational it was to seek comfort from the person scaring her.
It’s not irrational at all. I’ve got you.
She certainly hoped so, because she felt like she was coming apart as, minute by minute, piece by piece, he dismantled her memory.
Please, she whispered to whomever was listening. Let him find a clue.
SIX hours later she stood with Jace at the back entrance of a veterinary office. “Hurry up.”
He didn’t glance up. “I’m picking the lock as fast as I can.”
She rubbed her arms as the wind bit with icy teeth into her legs. “I thought you’d be better at this.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Why? Because I’m a vampire?”
“Because you used to be an outlaw.”
He cut her a glance. “I wasn’t technically an outlaw, and even if I was, locks back then didn’t look anything like this.”
She glanced around. The alley behind the clinic was isolated and cluttered with huge trash containers and boxes that could hide anything.
“Just break it.”
He didn’t look away, just kept manipulating the mechanism. “I’m not leaving any sign we were here.”
“What possible harm could it do?”
“Think on it a minute.”
She did, and then swallowed. A break-in would be reported. Anyone could pick up the notice. “Even if the Sanctuary guessed it was us, they wouldn’t know why.”
“All they’d have to do is inventory the lab room and they’d have a clue.”
“You don’t know that.”
The latch clicke
d. He turned the knob and stood, a big dark shadow blending with the night. “I’m not taking the chance.”
Holding the door open, he motioned her through. The excitement she’d been trying to contain danced past caution, dragging hope onto the floor, picking up the rhythm of her pulse.
“What about the alarm?”
“That I handled the vampire way.”
“Which would be?”
“I’m keeping the circuit connected.”
She stepped into the dark room. Light glowed eerily off all the stainless steel. “How?”
“Think of it as copying the energy.”
“You can do that?”
He closed the door. “I can do a lot of things.”
And he wasn’t just talking about electronics. She stepped back, the sexual tension between them crowding her more than his entrance into the small room. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked around. “So where do you think they’d keep a black light?”
“Somewhere around the exam table.”
He kept coming toward her, a small smile on his face. It took her two seconds to figure out why. The exam table was the flat shiny thing she was leaning against. Just before he got to her, she ducked under his arm. “I’ll check the drawers over there.”
His chuckle followed her. “Chicken.”
“I prefer to think of it as being efficient.”
His hand ghosted her right buttock. “I just bet you do.”
She swung at him. Naturally she didn’t connect. Jace was incredibly fast, even for a vampire. His hand caught hers. “Hold up.”
He took his gloves out of his pocket. “Put these on. No sense leaving prints.”
They were way too big for her hands and made things awkward, but she didn’t want to leave a trail any more than he did. “What about you?”
He motioned to the drawer. It slid almost soundlessly open. “I’ll make do.”
“Show-off.”
He cocked that left brow. It was a habit all the Johnson brothers had, but on him it was unbearably sexy. Especially when that slight quirk of his lips joined it. Oh, why did she have to be so attracted to him?
“Are you impressed?” he asked.
She slid open the drawer in front of her. “Not in the least.”
The drawer held an assortment of things, but nothing that looked like a light. She pushed the pen and batteries aside. “Do you have any idea what this thing looks like?”
“Nope. But I figure if it has a switch and a bulb, it’s a candidate.”
“Sounds good to me.”
She reached into the back of the drawer for a black rectangle and pulled it out. It had a long bulb that covered one side and a switch on the other. For a second, she couldn’t move. In the next, she couldn’t breathe. A fine trembling shook her fingers. Sweat broke out on her brow. This could be it. She flipped the switch. The small light cast a purple glow. She pulled off a glove with her teeth. Her nails glowed a dramatic white. She turned her hand over, ran the light over her palm. The calluses were whiter than the rest, but nothing untoward jumped out and said notice me.
“Miri?”
She tugged off her other glove. It hit the floor with a soft plop. It had to be here. The clue had to be here. In a flurry of dread and excitement, she ran the light over her hand—back, front, and then back again. Nothing. Nothing at all. A sob broke past her lips. A second tried to follow. She bit it back. It had to be here. Tattooing the information on her in glow-in-the-dark ink was the only logical thing, based on what she knew of the equipment they had. She didn’t look at Jace as he covered her trembling hands. “It’s not on my hands.”
JACE had never heard a calm so badly faked. Miri stood there, all five foot six inches of terrified woman, clutching her pride like it was her last defense. And maybe it was. He couldn’t imagine all she’d been through in the last year, but he’d heard enough from Raisa, and seen enough, to know that hell didn’t begin to cover it. He reached to take the light. “He wouldn’t have put it any place obvious.”
She didn’t let go. “He might not have put it anywhere at all.”
He could see the flick of her lashes, smell her anxiety. He kept his voice as even as hers. “I think he did.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Cable TV.”
She just stared at him.
“I’ve taken to watching some of the new shows. As soon as you mentioned the tattooing equipment it clicked.”
“It clicked?” What clicked?
Lint glowed like magic in the dark strands of her hair. He started at the crown, looking for a pattern to fluoresce on her scalp. “Hmm.”
“What? Did you find it?”
“No, but there are some areas of drier scalp here.”
Her hand snapped back. “Don’t you dare tell me I have dandruff.”
He let her hand connect with his chest. He’d never met a woman who needed to whale on something as much as Miri. She kept so much anger packed so deep, it was a wonder she didn’t explode. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Jace?”
“No, you don’t have dandruff.”
“That isn’t what I was going to ask.”
He tilted her head to the side. It wasn’t easy, with her trying to look at him to assure herself he was telling the truth. She yanked her hand back, bumping his wrist. The light dropped. Jace grabbed for it and caught it. As he did his sleeve caught on her hair. She yelped and grabbed the strands. A flash of luminescence caught his eyes.
“Hold still.”
She froze, not moving, not blinking, not even breathing, her anticipation a half beat behind his. For all his big words, he hadn’t really been sure this was the answer, but he’d hoped. Harder than he’d let on, putting his faith in the logic of his deduction. And a clue from the cable TV show featuring tattoo artists and the safety of glow-in-the-dark tattoos. Not that he thought Miri’s safety was of primary importance to anyone at the Sanctuary, but tattooing someone with glow-in-the-dark ink would make sense if one had limited time and resources and didn’t want to leave a trace that could be tapped in her mind. He pressed Miri’s right ear back and brought the lamp up and stared.
“Well, hell.”
She slumped against the table. “It’s not there?”
“It’s there.”
A house number and street, all neatly done in tiny letters on the back of her ear, close to her scalp. The miracle of it, the relief, shook him to his core. So much so, that he had to hold perfectly still or he’d start shaking like a child staring at a bucket of chocolate on Christmas morning.
“Oh, God.” Miri’s knees buckled. He caught her before she hit the floor, his reflexes slowed with the same realization that took the strength from her legs. The light fell unheeded to the floor. Glass shattered. “Our daughter’s at 256 Maple Lane.”
Her hands clawed up his chest and linked behind his neck as she shuddered. “Say it again.”
He knew just how she felt. He dropped to his knees, cradling her in his arms, breathing her scent, trying to absorb the enormity of what that address meant. “Two fifty-six Maple Lane.”
“Where is that?”
“I don’t know, but I know how we can find out.”
She followed his gaze through the door to the reception area. “The computer? But how will we keep them from knowing what we searched?”
“You know about computers?”
“Of course. Ian is adamant about all pack members keeping up with technology.”
Were he and his brothers the only ones who’d been distrustful of technology? Well, with the exception of Slade. Slade had been in lust with every technological progression before it’d even been born into reality. “Well, I don’t know how to keep them from knowing, but I know someone who does.”
“We can’t go back to my pack.”
The light pause that invited denial didn’t escape his notice. He wished he could give pack acceptance to her, but she’d lost that when she’d married him.
Though it hadn’t been his choice, it didn’t change the end result. “No, we can’t, but we can go to the Circle J.”
Her hands lowered from his neck. “The McClarens are there.”
“They won’t hold to the code.”
“You don’t know weres. They won’t tolerate a werewolf with a vampire let alone a werewolf turned to something in between.”
“You don’t know the McClarens.”
She stepped back, some of the color draining from her face, leaving it pale with only the amber of her D’Nally eyes. “They’ll kill you.”
“I’m not arguing some will try, but their chances of success won’t be good.”
Miri bent and picked the light up off the floor, putting it on the table before squatting down and sweeping the shards with the side of her hand. “They’ll kill me.”
“They’ll never touch you.”
The scent of her fear covered his assurance. The taint of fresh blood alerted his senses. She’d cut herself. “Leave it, Miri.”
A thin trail of blood spread across the floor in a black smear, broader at the start, thinning as it reached the end of her sweep. Glass tinkled in protest as it lumped together. “We don’t want to leave any sign we were here.”
“Bloodying the floor is a hell of a sign.”
Only then did she seem to realize what she was doing. “Oh.” She scooped up the glass. Tiny fragments shimmered amid the glistening blood like stars in a night sky. To an ordinary human, they wouldn’t mean anything. To a Sanctuary hunter, they would be the key to the kingdom. She stood looking around. He pointed to the wastebasket. “Might as well dump it there.”
He picked up the gloves off the floor, grabbed the antiseptic cleaner off the counter, and sprayed the floor, cleaning it until he couldn’t detect a speck of blood. The whole time he worked, he could feel Miri watching him, feel a surfeit of emotion pouring off her. He just couldn’t tell what that emotion was. He straightened. Miri didn’t move, just stood there, her eyes shining, her hands clenched in fists in front of her. He grabbed another paper towel. “What?”
“Nothing.” Plastic rustled as she took the bag out of the trash container. When he turned, she was right behind him.
Jace Page 8
