He meant every word.
And he was still bonded to her, thank God.
The problem was… she had been to this corner with him before. She had been ready for a good stretch of happy normal. Instead? The most important relationship she had had crashed and burned.
“You sure you’re going to be okay with me heading into wherever they live and maybe fighting directly with them. Without backup.”
If anything happens to you, I’m going to be Tohr. Straight up. One hundred. But fear of that is not going to get me to try to keep you at home.
“You were pretty adamant that where Tohr is is not a place where you want to be.”
He shrugged. But see, I’m already in it if we’re not together. After you were injured, I think… I think I had this idea that if I could just get you not to fight, then I’d be safe from what he’s going through—that I wouldn’t be exposed to that shit because you wouldn’t get stabbed or… yeah, worse. But come on, downtown Caldwell is not the safest place on the planet, and it’s not like you’re working around children with that job at Trez’s. More to the point, I’m all in with you—whether it’s old age, the number nineteen bus or a bullet from the enemy… anything happens to you and I’m fucked.
Xhex narrowed her eyes. She could read his grid, but not every part of his brain, and before she opened up to him again and got her hopes up, it was critical to know that he’d thought this shit through. “What about afterward? Say I get the rifle and bring it back here and it turns out to be the weapon that was used—what if I want to go after them. Wrath is not my king, but I like the guy, and the idea that someone tried to snuff him makes me cranky.”
John’s stare didn’t waver, leading her to believe he had in fact considered that outcome. As long as I’m not on rotation with you, I’ll be okay. If I have to come in as backup—well, that’s just what it is, and we’ll deal with it—I’ll deal with it, he corrected. I just don’t want to be in the same territory as you if we can avoid it.
“What if I want to keep my job with Trez? Permanently.”
That’s your business.
“What if I wanted to keep staying at my cabin.”
I don’t really have a right to demand anything at this point.
It was, of course, everything that she had wanted to hear: no limits on her, free to choose, free to be equal.
And, God, she wanted to fall into it all. Being apart from him had been the shittiest stretch of darkness she’d ever been through. But the thing was, she was used to the chronic suffering. The only thing worse than it would be having to acclimate to this kind of hell all over again. She didn’t think she could go through that—
I’m not doing this to “make up” with you, Xhex. I want that—fuck, yeah, I really want that. But this is how I expect things to be from now on. And like I said, words don’t mean shit. So how about you get to work and see what happens. Let me prove to you by actions what I’ve spoken to you now.
“You realize that I can’t go through another freak-out from you. I can’t—it’s too hard.”
I’m so fucking sorry. As he signed, he also mouthed the words, the shame on his face biting into her chest. So sorry—I wasn’t prepared for how I’d react because I’d never considered the ramifications until I was knee-deep in them. I handled it badly—and I’d like you to give me the chance to handle it better. But on your time, at your choosing.
She thought back a million years ago to Lash and that alley—when John had given her her revenge, had allowed her to be the one to kill her own personal enemy. And that had been in spite of the bonded-male thing that had no doubt made him want to rip that evil fucker apart.
He was right, she thought. Good intentions didn’t always work out, but he could prove how things were going to be over time.
“Okay,” she said hoarsely. “Let’s give it a go. Come with me to Wrath’s?”
When John nodded once, she stepped in beside him.
Together they walked down to the king’s study.
Each step they took seemed wobbly, even though the mansion was solid as a rock. Then again, she felt as though the earthquake that had been tossing her life around in a blender had suddenly stopped, and she didn’t trust her balance or the steadiness of what was below her feet.
Before they knocked on the closed doors, she turned toward the male who had had her name carved in his back. The assignment she was about to accept was a dangerous one, something vital to Wrath and the Brotherhood. But its implications to her own life, and John’s, seemed even more significant.
Stepping into him, she put her arms around his body and held on. As he returned the embrace, they fit just the same as they always did, hand in glove.
Goddamn, she hoped this worked out.
Oh, and yeah, nailing Xcor and his band of freaks?
Nice bonus.
FIFTY-ONE
The reality that the female in the white robe had not been a dream came gradually upon Xcor, rather like fog clearing over a vista to reveal contours and conceptions previously obscured from the buffering.
He was back in the van, lying on the seat that had carried him forth from their lair, his head pillowed on the meaty inner bend of his elbow, his knees bent and stacked one atop the other. Zypher was not behind the wheel this time. Throe was driving.
The male had been silent since they had left the meadow. Uncharacteristically so.
As Xcor stared straight ahead, he traced the subtle pattern in the fake leather cover of the seat Throe was in. It was a hard job, given that the only light he had was from the instrument panel up front.
“She was real, then,” he said after a while.
“Aye,” came the quiet response.
Xcor closed his eyes and wondered how it was possible a female like that actually existed. “She was a Chosen.”
“Aye.”
“How did you manage that.”
There was a long pause. “She fed me when the Brotherhood had me in their custody. They told her I was a soldier, not identifying me as their enemy to spare her worry.”
“You should not have used her,” he growled. “She is an innocent in all this.”
“What other option did I have? You were dying.”
He pushed that fact out of his mind, focusing instead upon the revelation that that which was legend in fact lived and breathed. And serviced the Brotherhood. And Throe.
For some reason, the thought of his soldier taking the vein of that female made Xcor want to reach around the headrest and snap the male’s neck. Except jealousy, however unfounded it was, was just one of his problems.
“You have compromised us.”
“They will never use her as a locator,” Throe said grimly. “A Chosen female? Entering the war in any fashion? The Brothers are too old-fashioned, and she is far too valuable. They will never take her out into the field.”
Thinking things through further, he decided Throe was likely correct—that female was priceless in too many ways to count. Besides, he and his Band of Bastards set out at the crack of night every evening—they were far from sitting ducks. And if they encountered the Brothers? They would reengage. He was no pussy to run from his enemy—better to plan an attack, but that was not always possible.
“What is her name?” he demanded.
More silence.
As he waited for the reply, the reticence told him that he was right to be jealous, at least in one respect: Clearly his second in command felt the same way he did.
“Her name.”
“I do not know.”
“How long have you been seeing her?”
“I have not. I reached out to her solely on your behalf. I prayed for her to come and she did.”