“Is there anything special you need to accomplish it?” Tarron asked him.
“No. Just a few minutes of quiet.”
Moving back, they gave the RetroCog silence and space as he settled on the sofa and placed the book in his lap. As he traced the handwriting with his fingers, his expression became distant. His mind was no longer in the room with them, but in a different time, perhaps a different place. Zan tried to imagine how tough it would be to pull together the threads of the past, form them into a vision or series of snapshots. How disturbing.
He knew sometimes the memories were horrid. That went with the territory; Jax had little reason to handle an object unless the person who’d touched it had either done something terrible, or been subjected to it.
Slowly Jax’s eyelids drifted shut. His breathing grew faster, more ragged. His face became drawn and he mouthed the word no. A bad one, then. A glance at Nick told Zan that the commander knew it, too, and was dreading what would be revealed.
When Jax slumped back and the book slipped from his grasp, Zan jumped forward and rescued the volume, setting it on Tarron’s desk. Then he hurried to sit beside his best friend and placed a palm on his forehead.
“Don’t,” Jax croaked, grabbing his wrist. “You can’t afford to spend any healing energy on me.”
“Dammit, Jax—”
“No. I just need some water and some rest; then I’ll be fine.” His gaze found Nick’s, and he paused. “You might want everyone to leave.”
The commander shook his head. “They all know anyway. Just tell me if Darrow is the one responsible for murdering my mate.”
A heartbeat passed. “Yes.”
“There’s no doubt?”
“None,” Jax said gently. “I saw.”
Nick’s knees seemed to buckle as he grabbed the corner of his desk. Zan was ready to catch his boss if need be, but it proved unnecessary. Nick straightened his spine, and the devastation in his dark blue eyes was replaced by steel.
“I want Darrow dead. And I want to kill him myself.”
Those cold words sent a shudder through Zan. He’d heard the commander talk about taking out their enemies before. Hell, they all said stuff like that. But this was the first time he’d heard Nick speak personally about killing. It brought home how dangerous their world was, how tenuous.
“We’re going to get him, I assure you,” the prince vowed. He looked to Jax. “The vision you got . . . does this mean Darrow had already committed that atrocity when he gave me the book?”
“Unfortunately, yes. That’s how my visions work—I can’t see an event if it hasn’t happened when the object was handled. I’m sorry.”
The weight of knowing for certain that he’d had a rogue living under his rule, right under his nose, was hard for Tarron to bear. The news that Darrow had killed someone’s mate was no doubt even worse. The vampire closed his eyes and clenched his fists, obviously battling his anger and frustration.
“We’ll get Darrow, but it won’t be easy,” Tarron finally said, opening his eyes. “I’ll bring as many of my men as I can spare to tip the odds in our favor.”
“I appreciate that. Thank you. When’s the best time to strike?”
“I would say daylight, but only my oldest soldiers can handle the sun’s rays. The younger ones will suffer nasty burns if exposed too long.”
“A nighttime offensive, then. Tomorrow night?”
“The timing should work. The question is, how the hell are we going to attack a coven of rogue vampires at a Motel 6 without alerting every human in the area?”
Micah grinned at the prince. “That’s why it rocks that we come equipped with our very own Sorcerer. Wait until you see him in action.”
Tarron’s smile transformed his face. “I’ve seen him performing his magic for the members of my coven. He’s quite good.”
“Good? A few parlor tricks are nothing compared to what Kalen can do.” Micah laughed. “You should see him turn a horde of rogues into dried-up raisins. He’s seriously badass.”
“Excellent. We’re going to need every advantage we can muster.”
The prince was right—and that’s what worried Zan.
Something about the upcoming fight didn’t sit well with him. He had a feeling they were missing something important.
“You’re going to what? No!” Selene blurted.
“I can fight, baby,” Zan said evenly. He tried not to take her reaction personally. After all, she was his mate and she had a right to be worried. “Like I told your father, I have my hearing back and I’m fine. I’m not going to put the team in danger.”
“I’m not worried about the team!” she hissed, cupping his face. “You’re the one I care about. Can’t you just stay behind this once? Nobody would blame you.”
“I would,” he said gently, pushing a pale strand of hair off her brow. “I wouldn’t be worthy of the Pack if I allowed my brothers to face danger without me when I’m perfectly capable.”
“Being able to hold your own is not the same as being one hundred percent. Plus, if someone gets injured, you’re going to use your healing ability on them when that’s the very last thing you should do.”
He shook his head, seeking to reassure her. “I won’t do that unless it’s a matter of life and death.”
“But then you’ll be the one at risk, don’t you see? I’m not going to stand by and say nothing while you kill yourself to save someone else!”
His heart sank. It seemed they were at a stalemate on the issue, and he didn’t know how to ease her fear, short of going against his own beliefs. “Baby, please. I can’t stand by and condemn someone to death if it’s in my power to prevent it. If I could, I wouldn’t be a man you could respect at all.” Much less love. And he hoped one day she would, though he didn’t voice it.
Thankfully, her face softened and she released a long breath. “I know. God, this is so hard. I don’t want you anywhere near the fighting, but that’s who you are—a tough Navy SEAL turned wolf shifter and Healer. Something tells me the waiting and worrying doesn’t get any easier.”
“Probably not. This is where you have to trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
She was silent for a long moment, and finally she nodded. “Okay. I’m afraid, but I do trust you. I want to prove that to you.”
“Sweetheart, it’s not about proving anything to me.” Unable to help himself, he kissed her slowly. Then he drew back and curved his lips in a smile. “Whatever comes, we take it on together. All right?”
She made an attempt to relax. “Yeah.”
That night, when they made love, it was beautiful. Intense. Zan poured his soul into loving her, and afterward whispered the words that meant so much to him. She still didn’t say them back, and he tried not to be disappointed. He knew she cared for him. That much was obvious from how scared she was for him.
I don’t need the words.
But it sure would be nice to hear them. Just once in my life.
He told himself to be patient. They had time. There wasn’t any need to rush something so good, so right.
If only he’d remembered the lesson he learned in Afghanistan—that life is brief and time waits for no man or beast.
The next evening, he gathered with his team and a few of the prince’s best men near the front entrance to the stronghold. They agreed to take several SUVs since not everyone could teleport and they preferred to remain together.
“Remember, this is a seek-and-destroy mission,” Nick called loudly, making sure all the men could hear him. “Recon first, assess the situation, and then take them down.”
Tarron broke in. “We want Darrow alive.” This was met with widespread disapproval. “We need to question him about what he knows, and after we’re satisfied, he will be put to death for his crimes. You have our word.”