She nodded. “I know.”
He guessed his coming back empty-handed made that clear. “I will find her, though.”
There was no condemnation in the stroke of her hands down his chest.
“I know that, too,” she whispered, nothing but trust in her gaze.
Shit. He didn’t deserve it. He rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, weariness dragging at him. There was no guarantee he could deliver Faith to her. Despite his best intentions his promise might just turn out to be so much hot air.
Paper slid across linoleum. “Your promises are gold.”
Shit again. He’d projected. “You’re getting good at reading minds.”
Denim rustled as she came up on her knees. His senses flared to absorb the heat of her body as it rose along his. Nerve endings strained for the culmination of anticipation. It came in the brush of her lips against his neck. The shiver then snaked down his spine and lodged in his soul.
“No. Just yours.”
He cracked an eyelid. She was staring at him with all the conviction she felt inside shining from her eyes. It was a hell of a lot. Her hands settled on his shoulders, hesitantly, as if she debated, and then firmed as she came to a decision.
“My feelings for you don’t hinge on whether we find Faith tomorrow or ten years from tomorrow, Jace.”
She didn’t have to tell him that. “I know. Mating’s not a choice.”
Miri shook her head, her hair tumbling about that piquant face he loved so much, casting her eyes in shadow, but nothing could disguise the emotion within. That blazed out at him. Not with the frantic energy that he expected, but with a calm certainty. “When I said that, it was a cop-out.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Her hand connected with his shoulder in a small slap. “I gave you my mark, Jace Johnson, because you’re the only man who could wear it. I gave you my heart because there’s no other man I would—I could—trust it to.”
He didn’t know what to do with his hands, what to do with the storm of emotion her statement created in him. He settled for cupping her face in his right hand and her shoulder in his left. “You’ve got lousy taste in men.”
If anything, her expression grew softer. “I guess it’s up to you then to improve it.”
“Like hell. If you’re insane enough to think I’m the shine on your Sunday best, then I’m keeping you crazy.”
“You do that, and I’ll keep you from taking on too much responsibility.”
A tilt of her head to the side and her mouth was at the perfect angle for his kiss.
“I’m sorry about Faith.”
It just slipped out. Against his will, a confession for the guilt gnawing him alive, an outlet for the grief he struggled to contain.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“If I had stayed with you—”
She put her hand over his mouth, stemming the flow of words, tears welling in her eyes. “You wouldn’t be the man you are, and nothing would have changed. I was betrayed, Jace. There’s no preparing for betrayal.”
She would know. The emotion grew as her tears welled. He’d failed her, brought this upon them. If he’d just asked questions, found out what mattered to her. If he only hadn’t assumed he knew best. Pain and understanding flowed in the wake of the what-ifs, filling the space between them. A space for three that only held two. It was so easy to imagine Faith in Miri’s arms. So easy to picture wrapping his arms around them both, smiles gracing the moment instead of the heartbreak of tears. Easy and impossible at the same time. Goddamn, he wanted his daughter.
Miri’s lips brushed his, then lingered in a kiss that shared so much more than passion. Her arms came around his shoulders, slender and fragile, but so strong in ways that had nothing to do with muscle. “We’re in this together.” There was nothing he could do but pull her closer as her energy slid along his, finding the pockets of grief, sheltering them in the grace of comfort. He wanted to pull her beneath into his skin, soak in her comfort. “Our little girl is missing. No matter how much you pretend, I’ll always know you hurt. Hiding it doesn’t help either of us.”
The simple statement, laced with truth, made him want to do nothing more than absorb her into the shelter of his body where nothing could ever hurt her. His fingers fisted in her hair as he struggled with control. Nothing was supposed to hurt either Miri or Faith, yet both had suffered. “Showing it doesn’t help.”
The little hesitation the words evoked was reminiscent of the one she’d made all those months ago when he’d told her he was going on a mission.
It was simple to tug her face up. Not so simple to decipher her carefully blank expression. “Talk to me, princess.”
“If you don’t share with me, I’m all alone in my pain. And it hurts so badly, Jace.”
She was killing him, ripping the shields from his soul. Not looking away, not granting either of them a reprieve, just letting big tears flow down her cheeks. With brutal honesty she whispered, “I need someone who grieves as I do, to hold me. Someone who longs as I do, hopes as I do.” She licked her lips. “The only person that could be is you.”
Catching a tear on his finger, Jace couldn’t be any less honest. “I’m not a man for showing weakness, Miri.”
“I know that; the world knows that.” Another pass of her tongue across her lips. “I just need you to be strong enough to hold me and let me cry.”
Why didn’t she just ask him to carve out his heart and hand it to her? It would be a lot less painful than watching her cry. “I don’t think you know how much I hate seeing your tears.”
“I know.” She didn’t say anything more, just sat there staring at him, asking silently for him to share the pain. Her pain, his pain. “Ah, hell.” He could at least try.
Enfolding her against his chest, cradling her in his lap on the kitchen floor of their new home, Jace dropped his cheek to the top of her head and said, “Then cry, baby. For both of us.”
She sniffed, her tears already wetting his shirt. “You might not want to give such blanket permission. I can really wail when there’s a need.”
Their daughter was out there somewhere, hunted by Sanctuary, held hostage by unknown Renegades, her future uncertain, her tiny life at risk. Linking his energy to hers, he murmured, “Wail away, princess.”
A half hour later, Miri stirred. “You must be cramped.”
He was getting a pain in his thigh. “I’m fine.”
She wiped at his sodden shirt. “You’re damp.”
Soaked. “Do you feel better?”
She nodded. “How about you?”
Linked as he had been to her, there was no way he couldn’t have shared somewhat in the expenditure of pent-up grief. “A little damp around the edges but functional.”
He lifted her off his lap, as always struck by how light she was. And he’d interrupted her dinner. As soon as she settled beside him, he reached for her discarded plate. Handing it to her seemed such a normal thing after the last half hour of pure emotion, he couldn’t resist.
“So, darling, how was your day?”
She took it. “Surprisingly, not that bad.”
“So things around here are picking up?”
“This is a good pack, Jace. They’ve just been driven to desperation and suspicion by bad leadership.”
There was no way he was letting that pass.
“I think you’ve been looking at things through rose-colored glasses again.”
“With enough time, we can turn things around.”
“It’s the time between now and then that worries me.”
The Tragallions were a very tight pack. Because they were wolf they hadn’t risen against their leader, but they might rise against him. No doubt there was a whole different set of rules that applied when a vampire usurped a pack. And that worried him. He didn’t like the thought of what could happen to Miri if they organized a revolt. “This pack’s a hairbreadth from full rebellion.”
Miri went to work on ano
ther piece of steak. The knife scraped across the paper. “There’s no doubt they’re a bit hair-trigger.”
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
Her grip went white-knuckle on the utensils. “I just don’t want you to write them off.”
“What makes you think I’m planning on doing that?”
“They can be difficult.”
“In case you haven’t noticed, so can I.”
The glance she cast him from under her lashes was assessing. “I think you’re going to be good for them.”
“Even though I’m a vampire?”
Miri shrugged. “You’re more wolf than vampire.”
“Only in your eyes.”
With a shake of her head, she said, “In everyone’s eyes.”
“I’m a Johnson,” he corrected. “First and foremost.”
She kissed his shoulder. “That is absolutely going to work for us. And while the pack is coming to realize that, we’ll make sure that they’re warm and fed and have some outlet to earn money.” She went back to sawing on the steak. “Remind me to talk to Ian about that, by the way.”
“What? There’s suddenly a demand for bad attitude?”
She pointed to the ornately carved wooden bowl in the center of the floor as if it were the place of honor. “Have you seen the artistic talent this pack has? When the modern world gets a look at pieces like that, poverty will no longer be an issue. Heck. All they need is a Web page and a shopping cart.”
“There’s no doubt they can turn wood, but, Miri, you’re talking battle-scarred warriors with a stubborn streak a mile long that are used to action.”
“Oh, you’ll have to make sure they don’t get restless.” She said that as if keeping the edge off a hundred prowling weres was nothing. “But I think you’ll be surprised how fast they’ll take to being family men.”
“Family men? Last I checked the majority of the men don’t even have mates.”
The plastic knife scraped the paper plate again. “Of course they don’t have mates.” She waved the piece of meat on the end of the fork as she made her point. “When would they have time to find mates, and even if they did how could they convince them to want to live here? There isn’t even modern plumbing in all the houses.”
“I’ve got Slade working on some energy sources to change that.”
“I know, but being single with little hope of being seen as a viable prospect by a woman of the more modern packs has got to be wearing on their nerves.”
Jace could think of another part of their body it would be wearing on.
“It’s one of the reasons they’re so tense,” Miri finished.
“You’re saying being single is making them crotchety?”
“Didn’t it make you crotchety?”
He wasn’t touching that with a ten-foot pole. “I’ve got to admit I’m a lot happier now that I have you.”
Her smile was knowing. “Good answer.”
He inclined his head. “Thank you. Still, princess, no matter how positive the changes, you’ve got to know there will still be some that balk at them.”
“They’ll be in the minority.”
“That minority can still be pretty deadly, and just so you know, at the first hint of danger, I’m pulling you out of here.”
“We can talk about that if it becomes an issue.”
Straightening, he corrected, “That was a statement of fact.”
She put her plate on the floor and shifted up on her knees. “If there’s real danger, I’ll leave, but not just a pack dispute.”
“What constitutes a pack dispute?”
“There’s a possibility I may have to put a couple weres in their place. You can’t interfere in anything like that.”
“I’ll interfere whenever I see a need.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Which one of us is Alpha?”
She didn’t look away and he liked that. Some men liked their women intimidated. He liked Miri just like this, ready to back her point of view with argument. Even against him.
“How about I promise that as long as the situation doesn’t seem to be life threatening, I’ll let you handle it?”
“I can live with that.”
She set the plate on the floor. He reached over and picked it up. “Are you all done?”
“Yes.” Getting to his feet, he dumped the rest of the steak in a plastic container and put it in the refrigerator. All the while she watched him, her dark-gold eyes deepening to burnished brown with interest. Her gaze dropped to his groin. His cock twitched and, when her tongue touched her lips, filled. “I like the way you think.”
She blinked and grinned, all innocence. “And how do I think?”
He bent and scooped her up in his arms. “Like my woman should.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “And how is that?”
He hitched her up. “All wild and eager.”
The nails of her right hand stung the nape of his neck while the left went to work on the buttons of his shirt. “I like that you can carry me so easily.”
He grinned down at her. “Turns you on, huh?”
The look she shot him from under her lashes was hot enough to singe his short hairs. “Absolutely.
She spread his shirt open, her nails scoring a sizzling path from his breastbone to the point of her mark. And paused.
“What?”
“My mark.” She traced the outline, sending chills of anticipation down his spine. “It’s almost gone.” She frowned up at him as if it was all his fault. Which it probably was, since he was a vampire, with a vampire’s self-healing metabolism.
Hot and thick, desire surged through his blood, slowed and deepened his drawl as he realized what that meant. “I guess that means you’ll just have to mark me all over again.”
Her smile proved as wicked as his thoughts. She pressed her index finger to the center of the faded mark. “Hmm, and I might just have to take my time about it, too.”
The tip of her soft pink tongue rolled over her full lips. She held his gaze as she slowly, so slowly leaned forward. His breath stuttered to a growl. She didn’t move forward or backward, just hovered there taunting him with the promise of her kiss. “Son of a bitch.”
“What?” She touched the spot with her tongue, igniting the flames that burned straight to his cock.
He slid down the wall, holding her mouth to him. “We’re not going to make it to the bedroom again.”
TWO weeks later the Tragallions weren’t the only ones spoiling for a fight. Two weeks of sidestepping challenges and chasing shadows and Jace would give his eyeteeth to sink his fist into something. If he was back at the Circle J, he could have counted on Jared to say something provoking and give him cause to vent, but here he was surrounded by fight-at-the-drop-of-a-hat Tragallion males who seemed determined to wear out his good nature with cool smiles and endless patience. And he was reasonably sure they were doing it on purpose. The bastards.
Jace glanced around from the rooftop where he was replacing shingles. Hammer thuds reverberated in the cool night air as the men worked, in a rush to beat the warm weather and the early spring rains predicted for the next day. He glanced at the near-depleted bundle beside him and the roofs that still needed repair. Damn, he wished they’d been able to bring in more.
He took off his Stetson and rubbed the back of his hand across his brow. The move dragged the material of his shirt across the mark Miri had replaced that morning. He sucked in a breath as the sweet burn pierced his composure with the memory of the night before. The woman had a wild side for sure.
“We’re going to run short,” Marc said, following his gaze across the rooftops and their obvious state of disrepair.
“Yeah.” He rubbed at the spot on his chest, forgetting about the hammer in his hand, rapping himself on the chin with the claw.
“Damn it!”
Brac shot him a look, hammer poised over a nail, a smirk on his lips. With a clean smack he drov
e the nail home. Jace considered walking across the short expanse and kicking his ass.
“You got something to say, were?”
“Nope.”
Jace pulled a nail out of his pocket and lined his shingle up under the one above. “Too bad.”
He would have enjoyed kicking Brac’s ass. The man was a walking irritation.
“If things are too peaceful around here for you, vamp…” The hammer drove another nail in. “You can always go home.”
“And leave you children alone to play unsupervised? I don’t think so.” He nailed the shingle down. “Miri would never forgive me.”
“We don’t need supervision,” one of the men growled from the adjacent rooftop. “Especially from a candy-ass vampire whose only claim to fame is mating to one of our females.”
Jace set his hammer down and stood. Slowly. At last. “I bet that just stings, doesn’t it?”
The man, Brody, was big and, to judge from the way he leapt across the space between the two houses, agile. Jace grinned. It’d be a good fight.
Brody’s answering smile was a slow, easy expression of confidence. “As a matter of fact, it does.”
Jace stepped away from the debris and shook the stiffness out of his arms. “Good.”
Brac stepped forward. “Not on the roof.”
“Worried your pretty boy is going to get hurt?”
“No, more like I’m worried shingles we can’t replace will get ruined and when the rain pours in, Maura will blame us and there won’t be any blueberry pie this summer.”
Brody grumbled. “Good point.”
He walked to the ladder. Jace waited until he was halfway down before levitating past him.
“Asshole.”
Tipping his hat, he continued on, taking off his coat and throwing it on the step when he reached the bottom. Jace rolled up his sleeves as he waited the minute it took Brody to clear the ladder. Aggravation laced the other man’s steps as he approached.
“That little trick isn’t going to save your ass.”
Jace Page 34
