Jace

by Sarah McCarty; Sarah McCarty

  Slade didn’t flinch, just stood there staring them all down. “Pointed out the truth.”

  “Meaning what, precisely?” Jace, asked, his gaze on Miri’s face. Miri had a feeling, despite her efforts, that her emotions were an open book to him.

  Allie waved him away. “That doesn’t matter; just remove him.”

  Caleb was back at her side as she began to straighten. Miri could tell from Allie’s movements that the pains were coming faster now that she was vertical; stronger, too. It was good. “He’s the closest thing to a doctor we’ve got.”

  “We’ve got Miri.”

  “She’s Sanctuary,” Slade cut in. “You can feel their touch all through her brain.”

  Raisa took a step toward him, her hair blowing back with the dark energy gathering around her. The hairs on the back of Miri’s neck stood on end.

  Danger.

  “Remove him, Jared, or I’m going to practice my energy-sucking technique.”

  Slade stood. In the next second Jace was in front of Miri, blocking her view. He tipped her chin up. She kept her expression blank as she tried to keep her energy field hidden. “I promised Miri not only would she be safe here, but that she’d be welcome, Slade. You making a liar of me?”

  “I’m not blinded by lust.”

  “No.” Jace’s thumb stroked over her lips in a soft caress that centered the splintering panic going off inside her. “You’re just blind.”

  He didn’t look away from her as he added his order to Raisa’s. “Get him out of here.”

  Caleb was the only occupant of the room who looked torn. “Allie needs him.”

  Allie piped up. “Allie needs a midwife, which Miri is.”

  His “If Slade’s right…” cut through Miri like a knife.

  Allie dismissed Caleb’s concern with a thoroughness Miri herself wasn’t sure was warranted. “Miri’s not Sanctuary.”

  Sanctuary taint or not, she did have some skills and they weren’t dependent on psychic ability. “I can help.”

  “And pass it all on to the Sanctuary while you’re at it?” Slade asked.

  Miri gave him the truth. “Not consciously.”

  Caleb cut her a sharp look. Allie rolled her eyes. “You couldn’t just say ‘No’?”

  “I don’t want to lie.”

  “Hedging.” Allie grunted, heading back toward the bed. “It’s called hedging, Miri, and you’ll find it saves us all a lot of arguing.”

  Jared leaned against the doorjamb, snagging Raisa’s hand as he did, pulling her with him, away from Slade. His hand grazed up the small woman’s arm and around her shoulder. Miri expected Raisa to fight, the way she’d seen her fight men before. Instead, Raisa flowed into his side, her cheek resting against Jared’s torso, trust and acceptance defining the relaxation of her body. Jared kissed her tenderly before catching Miri’s eye.

  “If Miri can handle the medical,” Jared said, straightening, “I’ll handle any spillover of energy.”

  Caleb met Miri’s gaze over Jace’s shoulder as he asked, “Can you handle the medical?”

  She wanted to flinch away from the challenge in his gaze. “Can Jared handle the other?”

  “Easily.”

  Which only left the question of whether she could handle her end of things. Jace’s energy smoothed along hers, gentling the wild surges, creating a break in the panic big enough for her to feel the confidence in her abilities. From the bed came a high-pitched wheeze of pain. Allie needed her. She’d been trained to meet that need. It didn’t get more basic than that. “Yes.”

  Caleb motioned to the bed. “Then get to it.”

  7

  MIRI never wanted to go through that again. The battle to keep Allie hydrated with blood while she struggled to give birth to her child had made her feel sometimes like she was in a race she couldn’t win. Yet they had. Thank God.

  Miri stumbled out of the room. Jace caught her. She didn’t even have the strength left to lodge a protest. Truth was, his arms felt too good, the heat from his touch too welcome, the illusion that everything could be all right as long as they were together too tempting. He took her weight easily, guiding her down the hall.

  “I’m an uncle?”

  “Yes.”

  “The baby’s well?”

  “It was a very difficult birth. Everyone’s tired.”

  At least she hoped that was all it was. The baby had been very quiet, weak.

  “Including you,” Jace murmured. She nodded, wrapping her arms around him because they felt so empty without her daughter, and she needed to hold something solid.

  His lips brushed over her hair. “I’ll get her back for you, Miri.”

  “I know you’ll try.”

  “That was a promise.”

  But there was no guarantee he could keep it. “I know.”

  “Whatever it takes, I’ll make sure she comes home to you.”

  “Thank you.” It dawned on her that they’d reached the bottom of the stairs. The entryway was just ahead. Jace guided her to the door. “Where are we going?”

  “To one of the cabins.”

  He leaned around her to open the door. A cool evening breeze blew across her face. Moonlight spilled onto the covered porch, too far away to touch her, beckoning her weary soul, lifting it. She stared across the open yard to the trees beyond. Her people had a special affinity with the moon. She wished she wasn’t so tired. She would love to run in the moonlight, feel the wind blowing through her hair, enjoy the exhilaration of being part of a universe she understood.

  “Feeling the urge to run?”

  She stared into the woods beyond, the wide open wilderness that she could lose herself in. “Yes.”

  “What’s keeping you here?”

  Was he hoping she’d say him? She pushed her hair back. “Because I’d drop right there by the cars.”

  His fingers opened over her back. His energy probed. “That tired?”

  “Yes.” And it wasn’t natural, but she didn’t know what to do about it and didn’t know who to ask about it.

  Jace urged her out into the moonlight. It touched her skin with a subtle warmth, shimmered along her mind’s eye in a memory of sweeter times.

  “Then how about I carry you?”

  Be held against him in the moonlit night, feel the illusion of freedom in the wind in her hair while safe in the protection of his arms? “It’s too dangerous.”

  “Probably.” He scooped her up. “But we can risk it.”

  She slipped her arms around his neck. The skirt she’d borrowed from Allie’s closet fluttered up her calves. Her heart fluttered right along with it. She was female and were. She appreciated a strong man. And Jace was very strong, even for a vampire. He nodded to the weres lounging at the bottom of the steps. “Would you gentlemen care to go for a run?”

  “Why not?” Jonah said, rolling to his feet. The glance he cut her was speculative, but not forward or critical. Her breathing eased.

  They scooped up their rifles, fancy things she’d never seen the likes of, slung them over their shoulders, and flanked Jace, a solid mass of muscle. “Lead on.”

  “Where to, princess?”

  She didn’t know the lay of the land. “Over the meadow and through the woods…”

  The smile started in his eyes, moved to the crease at the edge of his mouth, and then spread to his lips. “To Grandmother’s house we go?”

  She rested her cheek against his shoulder, the soft laugh feeling strange in her chest, as if the muscles had forgotten how to work that way. “To wherever you want. I just want to feel the wind in my hair, breathe the night, and pretend all is well.”

  “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

  With a smooth leap, Jace cleared the steps. She didn’t feel his feet hit the ground, didn’t feel the jar of his steps, but she did feel the wind tear at the long stands of her hair, feel the tempting call of the moon, the answering cry of her wolf, the heady scent of the forest, that breathless feeling of being a part of i
t all. They cleared the woods. Jace picked up the pace. The wolves kept position alongside, running with the same wild freedom. A glance up showed Jace smiling with the same wildness she felt inside. He loved this. Maybe that’s why they got along so well, why she’d sensed such an immediate affinity with him. In many ways he was more wolf than vampire, more in tune with the elements, his emotions, everything. She met his gaze and answered the question in his eyes by pulling her hair free of his arm, letting it stream across his chest a second before flipping it back and, with a shake of her head, inviting the cool night air to play with the locks. Desire flared in Jace’s eyes as strands wrapped around his back, brushed his thighs. Dark as the night, almost undetectable, a fragile bond weaving their life forces together. She tilted her head back, arching her neck. Above her, he growled. She could feel his gaze, imagined it focused on the vulnerability of her throat. Another laugh welled from inside as the temptation she presented to him flashed from his mind to hers. The rich glow of her skin, the feminine arch of her neck flowing to the curve of her breast, the beauty of her in his eyes. Grass caught at the ends of her hair, creating little tugs. Even the pain couldn’t put an end to her joy. She was free. Free.

  Jace slowed. She opened her eyes. His eyes were very dark, with flickers of vampire fire lighting the edges. Over his shoulder, she could see the weres watching from a discreet distance.

  “Why are we stopping?”

  He let her feet drop. Her hips slid down his body, grazing the thickness of his erection. “I need a kiss.”

  Bold, uncompromising, he laid his needs in front of her. She wanted to shy away. She didn’t.

  “Why?”

  “Because I missed you.”

  If he’d have said something flowery and sweet, she could have resisted, but a bald statement of fact cut through her defenses like a hot knife through butter, and like butter, when his hands opened on her spine she melted against him. Her thighs tucked naturally against his, her breasts smoothing into the hard planes of his chest, her face raising, lips pursing, as hungry as he was, despite everything, because of everything.

  The touch of his lips was like the night itself—a smooth caress of the familiar. Beloved, wanted, and the tingle of awareness that spread outward from their mouths covered the pain of their separation with a healing balm. His mouth opened.

  “Jace.”

  His name escaped on an ache of longing, drifted from her to him in a throaty moan. A breathless entreaty she couldn’t help. All it would have taken to crush her was for him to utter a single sound of amusement. She felt so vulnerable.

  She waited for it, muscles taut, body hungry, dreading it. It never came. All that came at her was the heat of his desire and a groan as hungry as her whisper of his name. His kiss deepened.

  Oh, God, yes! Her arms went around his neck, pulling herself closer as his mouth slanted over hers. Yes. Just this, just now. Just right.

  He kissed her as if he’d been dying for it, as if he truly hadn’t believed he’d ever see her again, as if he’d been as desperate as she; and it broke her like nothing ever had. The first tear dripped to her ear. The second to his shoulder. The third to the seal of their lips, salting the moment with the hunger of the past and the desperation of the moment.

  Oh, Jace.

  Right here.

  Hold me.

  Always.

  And he did, pressing her to him as if he wanted to hold her inside him forever, which maybe he did. Jace was as possessive as any wolf, as domineering as any Alpha, and he could make her laugh so hard when he wanted to. She would love to laugh with him again.

  Jace’s grip eased. She clutched his neck.

  “We’ve got company, sweet.”

  She blinked. He touched the corner of her mouth with his thumb. Another touchstone to the past she’d relived over and over in her mind during her captivity. It wiped out the last of her resistance. She couldn’t hold on to the anger, the push and pull between love and hate that had given her the strength to go on when she’d been imprisoned. This was Jace. The man who’d given her the wind in her hair and the moonlight on her face just because she’d needed it. The man with whom she’d mated eighteen months ago. For better or worse. “I’m sorry.”

  Sorry for doubting him. Sorry for putting walls between them. Sorry for not being able to let go of the last of her defenses.

  “I’m not.” His smile was that gentle one he only used with her. “This is good, Miri.”

  Did he mean their kiss or what was between them?

  “We’ve got to move,” Jonas called out. “If we stay here much longer, any Sanctuary hanging about will locate us.”

  Jace glanced at the were and then back at her. “I’m going to have to cut our run short tonight.”

  “That’s okay.”

  He hiked her up with one arm. “It’s not, but I’ll make it okay someday.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist. “You don’t need to.”

  “Stop forgiving me.”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Then act like it.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re my mate.”

  He reached behind and unlocked her right ankle from around his waist, drawing it to the side with a slide of his hand up her calf. “And that makes holding a grudge impossible?”

  “Apparently.”

  “Well, shoot.” He hitched her up in his arms, supporting her with an arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees. “Being married to you is going to be a breeze.”

  The weres snorted in disbelief. She tucked her chin under Jace’s and listened to the steady beat of his heart as she whispered, “I’ll try to make it so.”

  JACE didn’t set Miri down until he got inside the door to the small cabin. She stood where he put her, watching him the way she had since that kiss in the meadow. Hungry, fearful, and oddly accepting of the conflict. It was a far cry from the open trust he was used to.

  He held her hand as he locked the door and set the alarm, a restless part of him unable to believe that she was here with him. That any second he wouldn’t wake up and find her gone. Just one more dream that wouldn’t stick around.

  “Do you really think an alarm is effective against the Sanctuary?”

  “If it were an ordinary alarm, no, but Slade says this one’ll give a hell of a notice.”

  She tugged at her hand. “I’m surprised he hasn’t set it to warn against me.”

  “He wanted to, but I wouldn’t let him.”

  Her eyes went big and she stopped breathing. “Really?”

  Nothing had ever condemned him more than the badly hidden fright in that question. He should have known better than to tease now about something like this. He was not the man he should be. Never had been. And he certainly wasn’t the man for her. He glanced down to where their fingers linked. At the way she gripped tightly, with faith that he would protect her. Against his brother. Damn, if that wasn’t irony. “No. I was just pulling your leg.”

  She glanced out the window. “He doesn’t like me.”

  “He’s on edge in regard to anything Sanctuary.”

  They all were. That full lower lip slid between her teeth. Her fingers tightened to the point of pain on his. “Will it keep him from helping me find Faith?”

  “Faith is a Johnson. Nothing will keep any of us from bringing our daughter home.”

  Her lip didn’t come out from between her teeth. He gave her arm a tug. She tumbled against him. He tucked his hand, still holding hers, into the small of her back, arching her spine. Her head naturally fell into the hollow of his shoulder. He waited until her gaze met his. “Nothing.”

  “When?”

  He couldn’t blame her for the question. She didn’t know Slade, didn’t know his dedication to the family, to a cause. Didn’t know that, when presented with the information that Faith was missing, he hadn’t even stopped to feed, despite his obvious need. He’d just gone to work with the informati
on presented. “Soon.”

  Jace frowned as he realized Slade had been doing a lot of meal skipping the last six months, to the point that Jace was getting worried about him. “Slade’s working on the address now. Come tomorrow’s nightfall, we’ll know where to go.”

  “Nightfall.” Her eyes closed slowly, dark lashes fanning against her cheeks. Startlingly dark. Highlighting her pallor and her exhaustion. “That’s only fourteen hours away.”

  “Don’t be wishing that time away. We need it.”

  She opened her eyes a crack, peeking at him through her lashes “For what?”

  “To rest up and prepare.”

  “You prepare. I’m wishing.”

  “What you’re going to be doing is sleeping.”

  He walked her backward in the direction of the kitchen, not changing their stance, keeping her off balance, a silent dance to music only he could hear. “Right after you eat.”

  She was shaking her head before they crossed the small living room to the kitchen. “I’m not taking your blood.”

  “You’ve really got a bee in your bonnet about that, haven’t you?”

  “Yes.” At the kitchen threshold, she felt behind her with her foot.

  “You realize, of course, that it’s ridiculous to be fussing about something you’ve already done once.”

  “I’ve done a lot of things once. It doesn’t make me good at them, or them good for me.”

  She stumbled on the next step.

  “If you’d just follow my lead,” he pointed out, “you wouldn’t be having such problems.”

  Her quick glance up let him know she caught his double meaning. “I prefer to do things for myself.”

  “Then we’re going to have some problems in this relationship.”

  Another two steps and he’d have her to the table.

  “Why, because you can’t stand a woman with an independent mind?”

  “No, because, if you remember back, I like doing for you.”

  She stared up at him, a look of confusion on her face.

  The back of her knees hit the chair. He gave a little push and she landed in the wooden seat. The legs rattled on the floor. “No need to look like a deer caught in headlights. That’s a good thing.”