Providing blood to males of worth was all that was left of her calling. All that she had in her life.
Instead of thinking of herself, of the way she felt, she needed to thank the Scribe Virgin that she had come here in time to do her sacred duty… and then she had to return to the compound to find other opportunities to be of service.
FIFTY
“What’s changed, John.”
In the bedroom he and Xhex had once shared, John went over to the windows and felt the cold wafting through the clear glass. Down below, the gardens were bathed in security lighting, the false moon glow making the grout around the terrace’s slate slabs seem phosphorescent.
As he surveyed the landscape, there wasn’t much to look at. Everything had been prepped for winter, the beds of flowers quilted in mesh covers, the fruit trees bagged, the pool now drained. Stray leaves from the maples and oaks at the forest’s edge skipped across the mowed, browning grass, like they were homeless and in search of shelter.
“John. What the hell is going on?”
In the end, Xhex had not committed, and he didn’t blame her. One-eighties were disorienting, and real life sure as shit didn’t come with seat belts or air bags.
How did he explain himself? he wondered as he scrambled for words.
Eventually, he pivoted around, brought up his hands, and signed, You were right.
“About what?”
That would be everything, he thought as he started to sign.
Last night, I watched Qhuinn go out into the suck zone—alone. Wrath was down; we were scrambling; the Brotherhood hadn’t come yet as backup—bullets were everywhere. The Band of Bastards had surrounded us, and we were running out of time because of the king’s injury. Qhuinn… see, he knew he was better off outside the house—he knew that if he could secure the garage, we might be able to get Wrath out. And… yeah, it nearly killed me, but I let him go out there. He’s my best friend… and I let him go.
Xhex went over and slowly lowered herself into a chair. “That’s why Wrath’s neck was all wrapped up… and Qhuinn was…”
He went up against Xcor, one-on-one, and gave Wrath the best shot at surviving. John shook his head at her. And again, I let him go out there because… I knew he had to do what he could. It was the right thing for the situation.
John paced around, then parked it at the foot of the bed, bracing his palms on his thighs, rubbing them up and down. Qhuinn is a good fighter—he’s strong and decisive. A heavy hitter. And because he did what he did, Wrath lived—so yeah, Qhuinn was right, even though it was dangerous.
He looked over at her. You’re the same here. We need that rifle to declare war on the Bastards—Wrath has to have the proof. You’re a hunter who can go out in daylight—none of us can do that. You also have your symphath abilities if shit gets critical. You’re the right person for the job—even though the thought of you going anywhere near them terrifies me, you are the right one to send out to wherever they are.
There was a long pause. “I don’t… know what to say.”
He shrugged. That’s why I didn’t explain anything to you beforehand. I’m done with the talking, too. At some point, it’s just hot air. Action matters. Proof matters.
As she rubbed her face as if her head hurt, he frowned. I thought… this would make you happy.
“Yeah. Sure. It’s great.” She got to her feet. “I’ll do it. Of course I will. I’m going to have to keep on top of things for Trez, but I’ll start tonight.”
John felt the pain receptors in his chest light up like a power grid—which told him how much he’d expected out of this olive branch.
He’d hoped it would bring them together.
A Ctrl-Alt-Delete that reset their system.
He whistled to get her eyes back on him. What’s wrong? I thought this would change things.
“Oh, it’s clear they already have. If you don’t mind, I’m just going to go out—” As her voice caught, she cleared her throat with a cough. “Yeah, go talk to Wrath. Tell him yes, I’m in.”
As she went for the door, she appeared to be totally discombobulated, her movements stilted and stiff.
Xhex? he signed—which did no good, because she’d turned away.
He whistled again, then popped up off the mattress and followed her into the hall. Reaching out, he tapped her on the shoulder, because he didn’t want to offend her by grabbing at her.
“John, just let me go—”
He stepped in front of her and lost his breath. Her eyes were glowing with unshed red tears.
What’s the matter? he signed desperately.
She blinked fast, refusing to let anything fall to her cheeks. “You think I’m going to be jumping for joy because you aren’t bonded to me anymore?”
He recoiled so badly, he nearly fell over. Excuse me?
“I didn’t know it could end, but in your case, clearly it has—”
Fuck that! He stamped his feet because he had to make some noise. I’m completely fucking bonded with you! And this is both totally about us—because I want to be with you again—and totally not, because whether or not I am, this is still the right thing to do! You are the right person for the job!
She seemed momentarily stunned, nothing but those quick lids of hers moving. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at him. “Are you serious?”
Yes! He forced himself not to jump up and down again. God, yes… fuck, yes… everything I’ve got—yes.
She glanced away. Looked back. After a moment, she said roughly, “I have… hated not being with you.”
Me, too. And I’m sorry. As he took a deep breath, his heart eased enough so that it didn’t feel like it was going break through his sternum. I don’t think I can ever fight side by side with you. That’s like expecting a surgeon to operate on his wife. But I’m not going to stand in your way—and no one else is either. You were right in the first place—you’ve been fighting for longer than you’ve been with me, and you should be able to do what you want. I can’t actually be there, though—I mean, look, if it happens, it happens, but I’d like to avoid that if we can.
As her lids dropped a little, he had the sense that she was scanning him in the ways of her other side, and he squared his shoulders under the scrutiny: He knew what was in his mind, his heart, and his soul.
He had nothing but love for her.
He wanted her back.
He had nothing to hide.
And those terms he’d just spilled out were ones that not only he had thought long and hard about, but knew he could live with. This was not the off-the-cuff of a newly mated guy thinking life was going to be a breeze just because he had the girl of his dreams in his arms and a future so bright he had to wear shades.
Now, as he spoke, it was as a male who had lived for months without his mate; who had suffered through the strange death valley that came with knowing the one you loved was on the planet but not in your life; who had emerged out the other side of hell with a new understanding of himself… and her.
He was ready to meet real life head-to-head… and compromise.
He just prayed he wasn’t the only one.
As Xhex stared up at John, she found herself blinking like an idiot. Shit on a shingle, she hadn’t expected any of this: the personal call from Wrath, the opportunity presented to her… and definitely not what John was saying to her now.
He was utterly sincere, though. This was not a calculated ploy to get her back into his life—although she knew that without reading his grid. Not his way.