He didn’t say anything about my touch or withdraw from me. The heat radiating from his body was unhealthy, but somehow I didn’t think he cared much about that. His mind had always been centered on how to care for his people, and what I could do for him both in the short and long term. Nothing more, nothing less.
He took a deep breath, then another. It almost sounded like he was sucking in air through a wet cloth. His voice was soft, gravelly, and above all, tired. “We have a place. A cage. Sometimes we take the Weres there when we capture them alive. It’s lined with silver, so you won’t be able to get out. We can discuss what to do with you... after.”
I nodded, too afraid to open my mouth, though his head was bent, so he couldn’t see. He arched his back in a stretch as he sat up, and I withdrew to cradle my coffee in both hands and watch him over the rim.
Tilting his head back, then side to side to crack his neck, he closed his eyes. “I’ll talk to the others. You’re—even if you’re one of them, you’re too valuable to us.”
Well, go figure. Either Jack was going soft, or he was starting to ease up on his hatred of all things Other. Hard to say which it was at this point.
“I see why Royce wants you.”
I’m not sure if my coffee or my jaw hit the floor first.
He started as the cup shattered on the linoleum, coffee spilling everywhere. My face felt hot enough that I’m sure it must have been as red as my hair. Sending the stool scraping back to clatter on the floor, I jumped into action, grabbing a towel and kneeling down to clean up the mess. He eased off his stool and knelt down next to me, grabbing my wrist before I had a chance to sop up much of it.
I kept my head down, my fingers tightly clenched around the wet fabric.
“Shiarra, you may not think so, but you’ve got a great deal of potential that hasn’t been realized. You’re afraid of this life. Understandable. It’s dangerous, often thankless—but there’s no feeling like the hunt. You have a taste for it now. You’re strong enough to handle it. That’s a good thing to have in a soldier. It’s no wonder the vampire wants you. That’s uncommon enough in this age. That you’re willing to deal with the Others—now that’s rare.”
Christ. Of course that’s what he meant. Sure.
“Look,” I said, voice shaking as badly as my hands, “I’m sorry, Jack. I never asked for this. I don’t want this life for myself. I have no idea what I’m going to do after this business with the Sunstrikers is taken care of. I’m more afraid of thinking beyond that point than I am of facing a pack of angry werewolves. You can’t imagine what this is like—”
His grip abruptly tightened on my wrist to a painful squeeze. I looked up, meeting his eyes. The dark circles under them were more pronounced this close up. His brows were lowered, his thin lips set in a hard line. “Don’t think you know what my life has been like. You have no idea.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
“You’re going to have to start thinking about it, whether you like it or not. Time is running out for you, Shiarra. You’ve got decisions to make. We’ll discuss this again after tonight. I expect you to do your best to stay alive. You’ve got the instincts of a survivor, and you’re not getting out of the hard decisions by taking the easy way out.”
I flushed at the insinuation that I might consciously make a decision to put myself in harm’s way so I wouldn’t survive tonight’s fight. Even if I’d been thinking that was what would happen all along.
“You,” he said, looking down at his fingers on my arm, clutched so tightly that the skin around where they dug in had gone white and bloodless, “are not going to die tonight. If that means running from the fight, you do it. Do I make myself clear?”
I twisted my wrist around, breaking his grip and reversing it, so that I now held his hand in an iron hold. “Tell you what, Jack. I’ll make that promise if you’ll do the same. You stay out of the fight tonight.”
He glared at me, a look I would have flinched from only a few days ago. That steely look was scary—but I’d now seen a side of him that was vulnerable and human, and there was no way he was going to be able to bully me while he was this weak. He kept it up for a good long while, but he also looked away first.
Holy shit. I’d just out-stared Jack!
“I can’t make that promise,” he said. He sounded as petulant as a kid who’d just been told Christmas was canceled. “You know I can’t.”
“Good,” I said. “Then you realize I can’t make the kind of promise you want, either.”
He yanked his hand out of my grip, rising to his feet. He stalked on unsteady feet to the other side of the kitchen, slamming his fist down on the counter so hard his cup rattled. “Don’t you blackmail me,” he spat. “You don’t have any idea what I’m capable of. I might be sick, but I’m not an invalid. As long as I’m on my feet, I’ll fight. You can’t take that away from me. Nikki can’t. No one can.”
“I’m not trying to, Jack. I just want to make sure you’re ready for the fight before you go out there and get yourself killed. The White Hats need you a lot more than they need me.”
That sobered him somewhat. The anger in him was brutal, but his body was too weak to hold it for long. As much as he visibly wanted to stay strong and keep arguing with me, he had no way of countering my logic or showing me just how much he was capable of doing while so sick.
His fists remained clenched, but some of the tension in his shoulders eased as he slumped over the counter. His words were bitter and grudging, but at least he was starting to see some reason.
“Fair enough.”
I started wiping at the coffee again, careful not to cut myself on any shards.
“You go with Bo and Jason this afternoon to make sure the tip pans out. How much do you trust your informant?”
“A lot more than I trust yours.”
That prompted a small smirk out of him. I think that was the first time he’d ever shown any amusement at one of my lame jokes. “Good. That’s good.”
I snorted and finished mopping up the spill, tossing the shards onto the towel before taking it to the trash. Jack watched me, not saying anything else, making no move to help or to continue badgering me about my choices or his. This was just getting too weird for words. I grabbed the laptop and started to leave, intending to attempt some sleep before the afternoon’s festivities.
He crowded me when I moved to exit the kitchen, stepping in my way until I stopped in front of him. I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but something in his expression warned me against it. Though it was weird, to all appearances he wanted to say something more, but couldn’t seem to find the words. His hand came up, hovering by my cheek, but he didn’t quite touch me. Was it his illness, the awkwardness of the moment, or nervousness that made his hand tremble?
He stayed that way, indecisive, for a long moment. His eyes kept searching my face, looking for something, but never settling. Seeing Jack like this, like he wanted something more from me than cooperation in his plans, was a painfully surreal experience. He gave no voice to whatever thoughts were running through his head, couldn’t say what he wanted from me aloud. There was more under that pale skin and more going on behind those icy blue eyes than he’d ever let on before.
Whatever it was he was selling, I wasn’t buying.
Without a word, I brushed past him and stalked back to my couch, not wanting to face him or any of the other hunters until I’d had some time to think things over.
Chapter 18
(Days left to full moon: 5)