“I tried…” Miri let her defense trail off. It didn’t matter what she’d tried. She hadn’t succeeded.
Jace’s arm came around her shoulder—heavy, warm, and familiar as he tucked her in to his side. “I can see that. I can also see that you’re tired and you’ve worked yourself into almost as much of a tizzy as Peanut.”
His understanding annoyed her. It wasn’t okay. She wasn’t okay. She pushed against him. He didn’t let her go. The urge to throw a total tantrum built. She stood still in his embrace and warned, “You might want to reconsider holding me here.”
“I might?” He cocked his eyebrow at her.
“I’m about to launch into a major whine.”
“Why?”
It was so natural to rest her forehead against him. “I don’t want to be like this, Jace.”
“Peanut understands.”
Peanut couldn’t understand anything. “Peanut needs a real mother.” She glanced over at the little girl who was already looking better after a day of Jace’s care. “And a real name.”
“When you’re ready, we’ll name her.”
“You can’t wait for me.”
“Why not? I’ve got forever.”
She rolled her eyes. “Because there’s a distinct possibility she’ll be standing at her mating ceremony in her beautiful claiming dress, and her Alpha will stand up and be forced to call across the pack hall, ‘I claim Peanut.’” She shook her head, letting her hair fall over her face. “Trust me, it will completely ruin the moment.”
As if that were nothing, he laughed. “I’ll take my chances.”
She threw up her hands. “How can you laugh and say that like it doesn’t matter? I’m making such a mess of this! It’s not like I don’t want to help her, I just…can’t.”
“Allie says it’s a panic attack, and it’s not forever.”
“Allie is an optimist.”
“She’s also rarely wrong.” Jace rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “You’ll get through it.”
“What makes you so sure?”
His head bent, and she felt the brush of his lips on the top of her head. “Because of who you are and who Peanut is.”
“What’s Peanut got to do with it?”
“Peanut wants you as her mother.”
His heartbeat was a soothing throb under her ear. “Peanut doesn’t know I’m alive.”
“Peanut cries so much to get your attention. She likes your energy.”
“How do you know?”
“She tells me.”
“She’s telepathic?”
He had the grace to look ashamed as she pushed back from him. His arm reluctantly fell away. Hands on her hips, she demanded, “She talks to you?”
“Sort of.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“Since this morning.”
“And you let me believe all night that you were some kind of super father who just instinctively knew what she needed?”
A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Got to admit, I was kind of enjoying those worshipful looks you’ve been sending my way.”
“You rat!” The corner of her mouth itched to tilt into a smile. She had been rather impressed.
“Vampire,” he corrected, as if that was a good thing.
“That just makes you a flying, blood-sucking rat,” she pointed out.
The smile spread to his lips. He was an incredibly handsome man when he smiled. “Or a vampire who knows his wife.”
“So this all isn’t coming to you instinctively.” She waved her hand. “She’s guiding you?”
“It’s very random right now, but she definitely has her preferences.”
She stared at the tiny infant. “And she wants me?”
“Yes.”
Peanut gummed her knuckle. Miri shook her head.
“She’s probably going to grow up to have lousy taste in men, too.”
“She’s were.” He shifted Peanut up and chucked her under her chin. “She won’t have a choice, remember?”
“She’ll have a choice.” She wished the words back as soon as she spoke them.
Jace got that predatory stillness about him that didn’t bode well for hedging. “You don’t.”
Miri ducked out from under his arm. “She’ll get to choose where she loves.”
He frowned. “I don’t get it.”
“I know.” She backed up before he could grab her. She grabbed her coat and bolted out the door before he could demand she explain.
It would have been the perfect exit if she hadn’t forgotten about the alarm. It went off with a screech that echoed around the compound. Doors opened; men with guns spilled into the interior courtyard. Behind her, she heard Jace yell, “All clear.” She turned. He was watching her, naturally. A woman didn’t get to drop a bombshell like that and just run away.
She covered her ears and mouthed, I’m sorry.
He nodded and leaned back. She couldn’t see his hand, but she assumed he was punching in the code. The alarm shut off as abruptly as it had started.
The men shook their heads and dispersed. All except Tobias and Jace. They both watched her as if she was going to do something crazy at any minute.
“I just forgot to deactivate the alarm.”
Peanut started crying again. Miri remembered what Jace had said about this infant wanting her to be her mother. She took a step back.
“I’m sorry.” She didn’t know if she was saying it to the baby, to Jace, or to all the people she’d scared, she just knew she was sorry. Jace motioned her over. No doubt to hug her again and make her feel better. To take care of her. She shook her head. She didn’t want to be taken care of anymore. She was long overdue in learning to take care of herself. She took another step back, and he frowned. Her heel slipped off the porch step. She would have fallen backward if strong hands hadn’t caught her.
“Careful.”
Caleb. Jace’s brother. The one he looked up to. She expected Caleb to push her back up onto the porch. Instead, he swung her around and set her on the ground beside him. Ice cracked under her feet in a brittle accompaniment to how she felt inside as she looked into his face.
There was a world of understanding in his green eyes as he said, “Why don’t you go up to the house and spend some time with Allie and Raisa?”
Miri glanced in Jace’s direction. She rubbed her arms against the cold. Caleb gave her a little push in the direction of the big house. “Go, before you freeze to death.”
“I…” She couldn’t look away from Jace’s gaze.
“Will it help you make a decision if I tell you I’m here because Allie asked me to come get you?”
Yes, it did. She gave him a grateful look. “Thanks.”
Caleb touched her shoulder, the hesitation in the gesture just one more indication of how much she’d changed. People didn’t used to fear to touch her, didn’t used to gentle their voices when they spoke to her. People didn’t used to think she was crazy.
“Jace will wait, Miri. For as long as it takes.”
It hurt deep down inside that he would, too. She wished Jace would condemn her, but the understanding in those gray eyes of his never wavered. Neither did his belief that he’d have the mate back that he remembered. She wasn’t that woman anymore, but she also wasn’t this woman—the emotional wreck who couldn’t function. She had to find her feet. She nodded to Caleb. “Thank you.”
She headed toward the big house, slipping into the darkness, moving into the welcoming light pouring from the door. Her footsteps sounded unnaturally loud on the porch, and the eyes of the weres guarding the compound settled on her in a heavy stare. Did they condemn her for mating with Jace?
Tobias stood on the porch. For all the nonchalance of his stance, his amber eyes watched her closely.
“I told Jace you wouldn’t accept the baby.”
Asshole. She lifted her chin and met his gaze, not flinching, though everything in her wanted to cringe at the power there. “Now you
’re a fortune-teller as well as an Enforcer?”
“No, just a werewolf like you.”
“I’m not pack anymore. I’m vampire.”
His strange eyes narrowed a fraction. She felt a tingle down her spine.
“Right now, I think you’re hurting too much to be much of anything, but that will change.”
“Any helpful hints on when?”
He smiled. “My powers only go so far.”
Exasperation, anger, and even amusement rushed forward. “Your powers come and go pretty conveniently. “
He didn’t look one whit apologetic. “They do, don’t they? Must be the mountain air.”
“It’s something, all right.” She shouldered past him into the house. The bright cheeriness of the decor immediately flowed over her in welcome.
“Hello, anybody home?”
Footsteps on the landing preceded Raisa’s appearance. “Hey, Miri,” she called, her light Russian accent giving her words a pleasant depth. “Did you bring the baby?”
She shook her head. “Jace is taking care of her.”
It was only a slight misrepresentation of what had happened. Raisa sighed. “Still can’t touch her, huh?”
“No.”
“Well, come on up. Allie is with Joseph.”
“How’s she doing?”
“She’s fine.” Raisa looked over her shoulder and came halfway down the stairs. “I’m really worried about Joseph, though. And if the expression on Slade’s face when he thinks nobody is looking is any indication, so is he.”
“What does he think is the problem?”
“It’s like whatever he eats doesn’t really feed him.”
“Allie must be frantic.”
Raisa waited for her to catch up. “So you would think.”
“She’s not?”
Raisa shook her head and bit her lip before whispering, “I think she’s in denial.”
“She’s not accepting it?”
Granted Miri didn’t know Allie that well, but she didn’t seem the type to deny reality. She seemed more the type to grab it by the throat and make it do what she wanted.
“She says she knows in her gut Slade will come up with a solution.”
Poor Slade. It seemed everyone relied on him. “What did Slade say?”
“He muttered something about it probably just being indigestion and then went back to the lab to make some more of that enzyme mixture.”
They crossed the short landing. From the bedroom to the left, Miri could hear the sounds of a woman speaking in soft tones. More a murmur than actual words, the sounds and rhythm were clearly meant to soothe. Miri peeked into the room. Allie was sitting in the chair with Joseph on her lap. He was wrapped in a bright blue baby blanket, his head tucked into the crook of her elbow.
She knocked. Allie looked up. Her smile was as soft as the baby’s skin looked as she motioned them forward with a flick of her fingers. “He’s almost asleep.”
Miri tiptoed over to her side and about melted when she saw his face, his lashes fanned across his cheeks, his little mouth parted slightly. “Aw, he looks like an angel.”
“He looks like Caleb.”
He did. Even though the baby was too thin and his perfect skin paler than it should be, Miri could see Caleb in his chin and the shape of his eyes, and Allie in his forehead and his cheekbones. There was no doubt who his parents were and, looking at him curled in Allie’s arms, no doubt that he was loved.
Allie looked up at her from under the thick fringe of her bangs, her eyes looking very blue. “How’s your little one doing?”
“Good. Jace says she’s telepathic.”
“How cool! Can you hear her?”
“Not yet.” Probably because they weren’t bonded.
Allie smiled serenely. “Don’t worry, you will.”
Miri flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “Can I quote you on that?”
“Absolutely.” She glanced down at little Joseph. “Are you going to be able to do that someday, urchin?”
Joseph made a little smacking noise with his lips.
“Urchin?”
Allie shrugged. “After the way he’s been keeping me up, I didn’t want to give him too cute a nickname. He can’t think both his parents are pushovers.”
“I’m guessing the pushover would be Caleb?” As hard as that was to believe.
“Beyond a goner.” Allie shook her head, kissing Joseph lightly on his slightly furrowed brow. “He actually worries ahead of time, if you can believe it.” She rolled her eyes. “Having him around is like trying to sleep in a hospital. Every time Joseph starts to drift off, Caleb wakes him up to check something.”
“That’s kind of self-defeating, isn’t it?”
Allie snorted. It wasn’t a ladylike sound. “Totally. I sent him off to fetch you so Joseph could go to sleep.”
“I was wondering why you sent for me.”
“I needed saving.”
“Glad I could help.”
“You could always just threaten to withhold Caleb’s bear paws pastries to keep him in line,” Raisa suggested.
“I’m hoping to avoid going to extremes.”
Allie gave the chair a little rock, cradling Joseph in her arms, looking so contented and at peace it hurt Miri just to look at her. She wanted that, with her baby. With Peanut.
“Miri?” Raisa asked.
Miri blinked. She must have been projecting emotion. The tears she’d been fighting ever since Peanut came into the house burned her eyes.
She motioned to Allie. “I just wish I could be like that.”
“With Peanut?”
Allie glanced up. “Seriously, you need to give her a better name.”
“I need to do a lot of things, starting with being able to hold her.”
“Still having the panic attacks?” Allie asked.
“I did make it to the side of her bed.”
“That’s improvement.”
“But not enough.”
“You’ve got to walk before you can run,” Allie offered.
“I’m sick and tired of being damaged.” She ran her fingers through her hair. They caught on snarls. It was the absolute last straw. She yanked them through, accomplishing nothing more than pain in her scalp and creating a mat. “Damn it!”
Raisa grabbed her hand and put an end to her yanking, drawing her hand down and untangling the strands from her fingers. Her gaze met Miri’s. “You’ve got to give yourself time to heal.”
The only thing that kept Miri from lashing out was the fact that Raisa had been there, too, knew what she was going through, because she must have gone through some part of it herself. “I don’t want to be like this,” she whispered. “I want to be strong again.”
“You’re one of the strongest women I know.”
She bit her lip. “Not inside, not where it counts.”
“Inside, outside, and everywhere else.”
Raisa gave her a hug. The first they’d ever been able to share. Miri just stood there as Raisa’s arms came around her, paralyzed by the past, a desperate voice in her mind screaming a warning, Don’t let them see. Don’t let them see.
Raisa’s voice.
“Fuck them,” Raisa whispered, picking up the chant in her head and bringing it into the light. “Let them see. They couldn’t touch us then, and they sure as heck can’t touch us now.”
Miri brought her hands up, shaking inside and out, emotion pouring out of her on a harsh sob. Feeling like the ground was disappearing beneath her feet, she hugged Raisa back, for a moment suspended over nothingness, trapped with no hope. And then, something shifted inside her, came forward from the hiding place where she’d buried it. Something she’d hidden so well she’d lost track of it. As it snapped into place, she could breathe. She dragged air into her lungs, hugged Raisa as hard as she’d wanted to hug her when they’d been imprisoned together. “Definitely, fuck them.”
Energy brushed along the edges of her mind.
Miri?
She stepped back and wiped the tears from her cheeks with the heels of her hands.
Jace?
You okay?
Miri looked at Raisa and Allie, who were crying right along with her, then looked inside herself for the missing piece that had come back. A fragile piece of herself. She took a breath and grabbed hold of Jace’s energy, concentrating, following it back.
I think I really am.
She felt his surprise that she’d answered and then his hope at the emotion behind the words. His energy came at her harder, stronger, wrapping her in warmth.
Damn it. Come home so I can hug you.
Miri walked over to the window and pulled the lace curtain back, looking at the cabin they shared across the way. Home.
She wasn’t trapped and alone anymore in that place where any caring led to suffering, where any weakness was exploited. This wasn’t an illusion. She was free of the Sanctuary. She had a future. Jace had given it back to her. And he wanted her home so he could hug her. She wanted that hug, but she needed a little more time to herself before she could share it with him.
I’ll be home soon.
An hour later, Allie’s cell phone rang. As she listened, her smile slipped until it became a full-out frown. She snapped the phone closed. “That was Tobias.”
“Tobias has your cell phone number?” Raisa asked, sitting forward in the wingback chair. “Does Caleb know?”
“Caleb doesn’t need to know everything.”
“What’d he want?” Miri asked, a queasy feeling starting in her stomach.
Allie tossed the phone on the couch beside her. “Apparently the McClarens have had a meeting, the results of which they wish to discuss with Jace.”
Raisa uncurled her feet from beneath her. “In regard to what?”
“They want to discuss Peanut’s situation.”
“She doesn’t have a situation.”
The sick feeling in Miri’s stomach grew. Pack law was absolute. Parents had a right to handle the deformed child any way they wanted. They could accept it, love it, or give it back to Mother Nature. In the absence of a parent, a pack taking in a child had the option of following the parents’ original choice or making a new one.
Jace Page 21
