A little of that blankness slipped as Marc’s mouth tightened. “We don’t have the prime location of the D’Nallys. It’s hard for us to build commerce in the things that we can do. We’re too far out to have any real technology.”
The oil lamp in the corner took on new meaning. “Do you have electricity?”
“Not all the houses.”
Jace raked his fingers through his hair. That was going to play hell with Slade’s devices. “Great.”
Marc cut him a glance. “Anytime you want, you can turn around and go back home.”
And steal from Miri the bubbling happiness she’d done her best to contain since he had announced he’d try his hand at being pack? Not likely. “You might as well get used to the idea. I’m here for the duration.”
“I don’t have to get used to anything.”
The creak of the floorboard in the hall alerted Jace to Miri’s return. Her scent flowed before her, her energy not far behind. Jace looked over his shoulder and then met the wolf’s gaze. “Yes, you do, because I’m not going anywhere.”
Marc raised his brows. “Because of her?”
“Because of a lot of things, not the least of which being that I made a promise to the D’Nally.”
The wolf’s expression didn’t relax. “Just how specific a promise?”
“Specific enough that you might as well give up trying to scare me off.”
Marc jerked his chin in the direction of Miri as she reentered the kitchen. “You think she’s worth getting killed over?”
“Could be I just enjoy a challenge.”
Miri’s energy slid along his. If he wasn’t mistaken there was a snarl in her voice as she asked, “Who’s challenging you?”
Jace motioned to the stove. “That monstrosity.”
He put his arm around her as she came to his side, tickling Penny’s cheek with his fingertips in the way that always made her smile.
Miri stared at the cast-iron relic. “What is that?”
“A stove.”
“From what century?”
Jace couldn’t help a smile at the irony. “Mine.”
Penny’s smile at his touch dissolved to a pout and she made the grunting noise that signaled the onset of her displeasure. “Then you know how to operate it?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Good, then could you heat up Penny’s bottle?”
“No problem.”
Another grunt, this one a bit higher-pitched, indicated Penny’s growing discontent. “How long will that take?”
There was minimal heat coming off the surface. “About a half hour.”
“Ugh, patience is not one of Penny’s virtues.”
“I’ll see if I can make it twenty minutes.”
Penny whimpered. “Then I’ll show Penny our new home while you do.”
Jace squatted down and opened the wood chamber. There were only embers left and no wood stacked beside the stove. “You do that.”
He shut the door as Miri started up a lullaby and waltzed Penny out of the room.
“She does realize Penny is not going to be staying here?” Marc asked.
Jace nodded. “She just needs to do for her so that she can feel comfortable letting her go.”
“Ah.” Marc paused. “Thank you again for saving her.”
“No need for thanks. There’s not a man worth his salt who would have left that little girl there.”
“My mate would have.”
What was he supposed to say to that? He went for the obvious. “Why?”
“She was very much a fundamentalist.”
“And you’re not.”
“No.”
“Then why did you mate with her?”
“Matings are not a choice. When it became obvious we were compatible to breed we did our duty.”
“It’ll be a cold morning in hell before I see Miri as a duty.”
“But you’re here.”
“I told you, I like a challenge.”
“And your mate is pack.” Marc opened the refrigerator door.
Jace shrugged. “That makes it work out all around.”
“She loves my daughter.”
“Yeah, she does.”
“Even though she’s deformed and not of her blood.”
“Miri doesn’t see the world in terms of perfect.”
Marc nodded, putting one bottle in the fridge and keeping one in his hand. He closed the refrigerator. “I noticed that. She’s going to be good for the people.”
“Even if I’m part of the package deal?”
“I haven’t decided about you yet.”
That was at least honest. Jace dusted off his hands. “Is there a supply of wood for Bertha here?” He indicated the stove. “Or do I have to split it?”
“There’s probably loads. Travis didn’t like to be cold and made sure plenty was always delivered.”
Jace cocked a brow at him. “He didn’t cut his own?”
Marc’s lips flattened back into that straight line that said so much. “Travis thought being leader gave him a lot of rights.”
Jace settled his hat on his head. “I take that to mean he didn’t split his own wood.”
“Pretty much. He had pack for that.”
Travis had used the pack for a lot of things. Jace opened the back door and stopped. There had to be at least ten cords of wood there. The place was big, but it wasn’t that big, and this being the end of winter, the stack should have been on the opposite end of the scale from huge. He tried to remember seeing this much wood behind the other houses. He actually couldn’t remember seeing any. He walked over to the nearest pile and grabbed an armful. When he turned, Marc was watching him.
“This the community woodpile?”
“No.”
He hadn’t thought so. Jace brushed past him, placed the wood on the floor beside the stove, and stirred the embers with the poker. “I haven’t been around here long enough to know what’s what, but if there’s anyone in need of wood, bring some men up here and divide this pile up among those who need it.”
The floorboard squeaked again. He glanced up. Brac stood in the doorway, a clear bowl filled with what looked like colored rocks and water in his hands. “What makes you think anybody’s in need?” he asked as he leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb.
Movement in the bowl indicated where the frog had ended up. Jace stacked kindling in a small pyramid. “That’s a hell of a lot of wood to be still sitting at the end of winter. And my guess is a lot of somebodies went lean to keep it that way.”
He could feel Brac looking at him.
“Do you think distributing some wood is going to get you in the pack’s good graces?”
Jace twisted paper tightly and slipped it under his pile of kindling. “I don’t intend for it to do anything but keep people warm.”
Brac didn’t look convinced. Jace didn’t give a shit.
“Did you come for something or were you just feeling nosy?”
“I thought you’d like to know the women will be up shortly. And this frog still needs a home.”
He blew on the embers. “Why?”
“Because I’m getting sick of babysitting it.”
“Looks like you’re doing a good enough job at it.”
Brac held up the bowl. “I robbed a couple of those vases in the living room for some stones.”
“Wilhelmina probably never had it so good.” Jace glanced over. “Why are the women coming?”
“To see if there’s anything Miri would like that she doesn’t have.”
“That’s nice of them.”
“I wouldn’t call it nice. It’s pack law.”
Flames ate at the edge of the paper. “You’re going to have to explain that one.”
“It’s Miri’s right as female Alpha to take whatever she wants,” Marc explained carefully.
Jace frowned. “We’re good.”
“Good for what?” Miri asked, coming back into the room. She stopped just in fro
nt of him, putting herself between him and Brac in that protective way she had. As if he’d ever use her as a shield.
“Good for all we need.”
He caught her hand and tugged her back three steps to a point behind him. Brac watched the gesture with raised brows.
Jace ignored the exasperated glance Miri shot him. She kissed the baby’s head. “I don’t understand.”
“It appears the Tragallions have a quaint old-fashioned custom in which they want to include us. One where we ransack their belongings for whatever we want. I’ve turned them down.”
“Why?” Marc asked as Miri passed Penny to him.
“I provide for my wife.”
“Travis supported it,” Brac interjected.
“Travis is dead,” Jace growled, walking over to the refrigerator and opening the door. Steak, steak, and more steak covered the shelves. There was enough food in that one refrigerator to feed an army. If Travis were still alive, Jace would have kicked his ass. “Did Travis have a big family?”
Marc’s upper lip curled. “He never remated after his wife died.”
“Ah.” He looked over his shoulder. “Steak okay with you, Miri?”
She came over and caught the door before he could shut it. Her breath sucked in.
“Brac?” Miri called.
The were pushed away from the doorjamb. “Yes?”
“How close were you to Travis?”
“I was his second in command.”
“That wasn’t what I asked you.”
“Princess,” Jace warned as the were’s scent changed.
She spun around, her elbow colliding with Jace’s stomach. “What?”
“Treading on a man’s pride can be dangerous business.”
“I’m not treading on anything. I’m asking a question.”
“A damn insulting question,” Brac snarled, setting the frog on the counter.
Miri pushed Jace back, matching Brac glare for glare. “Who’s your loyalty to, Brac?”
“My loyalty is to my pack.”
“Not your Alpha?” Jace asked.
“The Alpha is an extension of the pack,” Miri supplied, back to staring at the contents of the fridge, a strange tension humming off her.
“And if the Alpha is a skunk?”
“Steps are taken,” Marc said, holding Penny in one arm while running a pot under the faucet.
“By whom?”
“Someone in the chain of command.”
“Did you call the Enforcer, Brac?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “What if I did?”
Miri reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a packet of steak and slapped it on top of the lace tablecloth. “Then you waited too damn long.”
She turned and grabbed another and then another, tossing them on top of the wood table, pitching steaks out of the refrigerator faster than Jace could catch them.
“Miri?”
Brac moved forward. Marc took a step in. Miri snarled and started throwing packs out two at a time. Penny started to cry. “Pack went hungry while that bastard sat up here hoarding food, didn’t they?”
Jace shook his head before Marc could answer. A six-pack of beer hit the pile of steak and took a dangerous slide toward the edge. Jace grabbed it, setting it carefully on the floor.
“Brenda Lynn probably knows what hunger is, doesn’t she?” Miri asked.
Jace didn’t have to warn the others to say nothing on that. A fool could see Miri was winding up. He took a step in. Three packets of meat drove him back.
“And her mother hates this place for a reason, doesn’t she? She doesn’t want to come here because of the memories, right?”
She kicked the door open when it began to close, her arms loaded with packs of meat, condiments, and milk. “Right?” she demanded again when Brac didn’t answer immediately. The were caught the door when it whipped back. Jars rattled.
“She might have some reason.”
Miri dumped the food on the table. Marc made a dive for the milk, but because of Penny, he missed. The container hit the floor and popped open. The contents bled across the wood surface.
Miri just stood and stared as the puddle grew. “Shoot.”
Jace bent down and picked up the carton, popped the cap back on, and put it back into the fridge. Miri immediately grabbed it back out. There was still a half carton left. “That’s for Brenda Lynn.”
She was back in motion. She scooped up a corner of the tablecloth and threw it over the pile with almost frenetic energy. Three steps and she was around the table, repeating the gesture until she had all the food bundled into the expensive tablecloth. When she would have pulled it off the table, Marc stopped her.
“That cloth is too fine to use for that.”
“Melinda will be upset if you tear her grandmother’s linen,” Brac agreed.
“Who’s Melinda?”
“Marjorie’s aunt.”
Miri groaned as if the information was more than she could bear. “Even the tablecloth is stolen?”
Jace opened his arms. Miri turned in to them. He caught a glimpse of the tears on her cheeks before she buried her face against his chest. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Jace.”
No matter how tightly he held her he couldn’t keep her illusions from shattering.
“It’s not supposed to be like this among my own kind.”
“I know. But we’ll fix it, baby.”
Her fingers wrapped in his shirt. “Determination can’t fix everything.”
But it could fix this. Of that he was convinced. He tipped her chin up. Light caught on the tears in her eyes, turning the irises a lighter shade of gold. “Isn’t that just like a woman to marry up with a man and then immediately try to change his way of thinking.”
Brac motioned to the food. Jace nodded. The other man grabbed some paper bags out of the cupboard and started loading them up. Marc took the bottle off the stove and took Penny from the room.
“I’m not trying to change you,” Miri whispered.
“You’re trying to get me to believe in hopeless.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. “And baby, hopeless isn’t something I do. Especially not with you.”
“I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“Then don’t. Let me handle it for you.” He needed her to let him handle this for her. “Just for a little while.”
He held his breath while she debated. Her nod was the sweetest gift he’d ever received. Jace swung her up in his arms. Her arms went around his neck. Across the room, Brac stared, his eyes narrowed, his thoughts unreadable.
Miri tapped Jace on the shoulder. “Just a minute.”
She leaned back so she could see Brac. “Tell the women to come for their belongings in a half hour.”
“Excuse me?”
She waved a hand toward the parlor. “I want them to come get their belongings. I don’t want them.”
“That could leave you with nothing.”
Jace took in Miri’s pallor and her tear-splotched face. She needed to feed. “Tell them to be here in an hour.”
18
IT was going to be easier to cure the frog.
Miri watched as, one after another, women came into her home to retrieve their furniture. The tiny hope she had that maybe at least one of them would welcome her died as two women struggled with the mattress for the bed. No one took the mattress from the bed unless they seriously wanted you gone.
She kept her voice as calm as possible as she said, “After you’re done, could you all come back here, please?”
A few of the women gave her nervous glances. A couple of the looks were outright sullen. Most of the women didn’t look at her at all. Miri sighed. Why couldn’t something, for once, go easily?
The front door opened. Brenda Lynn came bouncing into the room behind her mother, bringing the stench of lilac perfume and the coolness of the night air with her.
“How’s Wilhelmina?”
“I think she’s
a little better.”
The little girl beamed. Her mother eyed Miri warily as she headed for the beautifully carved side table against the wall. Miri sighed again. No ally there.
“Brenda Lynn, come help me with this table,” Marjorie called.
Brenda Lynn shook her head. “I want to see my frog.”
“The table first, then the frog.”
The little girl stomped over to her mother. Miri watched, humor mixing with the ache of loss as she did. Everything about Brenda Lynn made her wonder about Faith, projected her into the future, wondered if she would be the same at that age. God, she wanted her baby. Wanted her to have a future more than anything else in the world.
A touch of warmth surrounded her pain. Jace. She quickly shut off the emotion, not wanting to worry him. He had enough pain and guilt about their daughter. When he wasn’t specifically guarding his emotions from her, she could slip under his shields and feel the agony he was trying to keep hidden. Part of her wished he’d share that pain. The more selfish side wanted him to keep it firmly locked up. She didn’t feel strong enough to handle his and hers.
Brenda Lynn moved the lamp off the table. Miri frowned. The child’s pants were too short and her shirt was faded. Earlier she’d thought that was because she’d been wearing play clothes, but no woman brought her child to the Alpha’s house, even for a sign of nonsupport, in anything less than their best. The familiar feeling of anger and helplessness rolled over Miri, culminating in a sort of hopeless panic. One of the less favorable things she’d learned at the Sanctuary.
Hopeless isn’t something I do.
Jace’s words came back to her, along with the feel of his hand on her chin, the rush of his personality along with his utter belief that he could fix everything—her, their daughter, this pack.
She licked her lips. Jace believed in the impossible, the way other people believed in simply breathing. Where she’d been brought up with a sense of duty, but within an environment of ease, he’d been brought up fighting. She was used to warriors. Weres were warriors to the core, but Jace’s edge was more honed. As a result, situations that left her doubting her ability just brought out his determination. She brought her fingers up and touched her lips. Touched her tongue to the surface, tasting the remnants of his kiss. She looked at all the women ransacking her house in their enthusiasm to reclaim bits and pieces of themselves. It was the same for her every time she connected to Jace. Bits and pieces of herself she’d thought lost just seemed to reappear, stronger than she remembered, as if nourishing the bond between them nourished other parts of her as well. Parts she’d missed, such as her self-confidence, her faith, her belief. Which was a good thing, because she was going to need them.
Jace Page 30
