Justice removed the plug and peered inside. A small metallic object the size of sugar cube cut in half had been hidden inside and adhered with mounting tape so it wouldn’t rattle.
She searched through Ronan’s stash of medical supplies for a tool to remove it. Small drawers and bins lined one wall of the van. There were no labels, so she had to go through each cubby to find what she was looking for.
She ripped open the sterile packaging around a pair of locking forceps and used them to pry out the small device.
There were no lights on it, no sound coming from it, but she knew what the thing was all the same.
She crushed the tracker under her heel, then shoved its remains into a bottle of water and tossed it out the door. Once Reba was reassembled and reloaded, she was finally free to deal with her next most pressing problem.
She found bandages and disinfectant and went to work patching herself up.
Her head was first, since she kept bleeding into her eyes. The wound wasn’t deep. The scar it would leave behind would be easily hidden by her curls, which was nice, because scars were the kind of thing that made people stare at her. She really didn’t want to draw any more notice than necessary, because there was no way to know when her life might depend on her anonymity.
Once she’d cleaned and bandaged her head, her leg was next.
She stripped out of her jeans and sat on the narrow mattress to inspect the damage.
The bullet hadn’t gone clean through. It was still inside her and had to come out. At least the thugs had been kind enough to shoot her in a place she could reach to dig out the bullet herself. If she’d taken one in the ass, she’d be screwed.
Justice knew what came next. She knew the searing pain she’d have to inflict on herself. Been there, done that.
She was already queasy just thinking about it.
Her phone rang. The number was private, but she was more than happy to use the call as an excuse to put off the inevitable digging she was about to endure.
“That wasn’t very nice of you to break my toys,” said Chester Gale.
A feeling of disgust slid through her, cold and thick like sludge. “I haven’t moved yet. Why don’t you come find me? It will save me the trouble of tracking you down later.”
“Miss me?” he asked, his tone nearly singsong.
“I never miss,” she said. “Not when I’m aiming at an asshole like you.”
Said asshole made a tsking sound. “Now, now, Justice. You really do need to learn to control that temper of yours. It’s not attractive.”
That only pissed her off more. “Neither is killing women to steal their children.”
“Since when have you ever been sentimental? No one is going to miss one more mouthy child.”
“No one is going to miss one more egotistical, entitled asshole.”
There was the sound of an engine in the background of his call. Deep, throaty power and smooth shift of gears. German. Maybe Italian.
“As amusing as you are, my dear, I didn’t call to chit chat. I have a proposition to make.”
“Does it involve me blowing a hole in your skull, because if it does, I’m in.”
“Nothing so fanciful. No, I’d simply like to arrange a meeting between you and the…man who’s most interested in my procurements.”
His hesitation around the word man spoke volumes.
“Working with demons now, are we?”
Chester scoffed. “Who am I to exclude an entire group of beings? How very smallminded of you. Is their money not as green as humans’?”
“I’d say that I hope one of them eats your face off, but that would be a lie. I want to be the one to end your infection on this planet.”
“So melodramatic. And honestly, you’re not giving credit where it’s due. Demons always keep their word, and they don’t go stealing what’s not theirs.”
“Pepper was not yours to take or to keep.”
“All is forgiven,” Chester said. “Water under the bridge. Now, how much will an hour of your time cost me? I think ten-thousand is fair, don’t you?”
“I’ll give you the first five minutes for free if you send your goons away.”
“Oh, it’s not me who wants to meet you. It’s this delightful creature I know. His name is Vazel.”
“If you’re not going to be there for me to kill, I’m not interested.”
Chester laughed, the sound genuinely amused. “I’ve always loved that about you—how blunt an instrument you are. No lies or subterfuge. Just in-your-face honesty.”
“I honestly want to kill you.”
“I know, sweetheart, but it’s good to want things we can’t have. It builds character.” He paused. “Twenty-thousand?”
“Not even close.”
“I’ll give you some time to think about it. Do try to get some sleep, will you? You’re going to want to look pretty for your meeting with Vazel.”
Chester hung up, leaving her fuming.
Condescending, arrogant asshole. Even if he hadn’t killed a woman and stolen her child, the fucker deserved to die for his sheer ability to irritate Justice.
She couldn’t stay here any longer. She had to get this bullet out and get back in motion. By the sound of Chester’s ride, he wouldn’t need long to get wherever it was he was going, and she was in no shape to face down the army of meat shields that would be in between Chester and the .40 caliber round with his name on it.
Justice opened a clean package of forceps and began to dig for the bullet in her leg.
Chapter Twelve
Ronan followed the pull Justice had on him to the hangar-turned-warehouse she’d brought him to earlier. The sun had only recently set, and the exhaustion of daylight was finally fading.
There was no sign of his van outside, but he knew she was in there. He could feel her presence glowing against his skin.
He wanted to kiss her and shake her all at the same time.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Morgan asked.
“I’ve delayed you long enough. Thanks for the ride. And if you need any help with Serena….”
“I’ll call. Let’s hope she’s in the mood to chat, rather than to fight.”
“If not, I’ll patch you up as good as new.”
“Let’s not borrow trouble there. What about Justice? What if she doesn’t want to see you?”
Ronan had spent the better part of the ride here pondering just that and had decided on his answer. “I really don’t care what she wants. We’re all in this war together. Some of us dislike our roles in it more than others, but we still must play them. Justice is no different. She’s one of us, whether or not she likes it.”
“You told me she carries a gun.”
“Yes, so?”
“So, I wouldn’t say to her what you just said to me if I were you. Not while she’s armed.”
“I’ll take that under advisement. Good luck with Serena.”
Morgan grimaced. “Thanks. At least she doesn’t carry a gun.”
Ronan stepped down from the truck and opened the back door to retrieve his bag. “I saw her practice with a sword once, before the attack, before her imprisonment.”
“Oh yeah? How was she?”
“You’re going to wish she carried a gun. It would be far less deadly.”
Morgan sighed as he shook his dark head. “Women. Why do they have to be so damned difficult?”
“Because if they weren’t, we wouldn’t love them nearly as much.”
Ronan shut the door and watched Morgan drive away. The Theronai had no idea what he was about to face, but Ronan didn’t have the heart to warn him. All that would do was make the man lose sleep. In the end, the outcome would be the same. Serena would drive him away as she had the rest and leave him limping back to Dabyr to lick his wounds.
A woman as strong and stubborn as Serena was not coming home until she was good and ready, no matter how many times Joseph ordered her return. As good as he was with women, even Morgan w
asn’t going to change that. He’d be lucky to come back with all his parts intact.
Ronan turned toward the hangar and paused in front of the camera outside the door. “I’m coming in,” he said. “We need to talk.”
Justice’s voice came over a speaker he couldn’t see. “I said all I needed to say in that note.”
“Well I didn’t.”
She let out a long breath. “Fine. Whatever. The door is open.”
The second he walked through the door he could smell her blood. Sweet, intoxicating, powerful.
She stood in front of him, feet booted and braced apart. Her stance was hard and cold, like a stone wall he couldn’t pass.
There was a bandage on her head and lumps under her clothing where more injuries were hidden. She looked tired, defeated. Sad. Even so, she was so beautiful he almost forgot to breathe as he stared at her.
“What happened?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Nothing important. Are you here for your van?”
“That, and an explanation.”
“I only owe you the van.”
He moved forward just one step. He knew if he took two, he’d be unable to stop himself from closing the distance and pulling her into his arms to reassure himself she really was okay.
“That’s a lie and we both know it,” he said.
She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “I’m in the middle of something. Why don’t you just go. We can talk about this again in a few days if you still want to.”
If he’d still want to? Did she think he’d forget about her note so soon? About her walking out on him? Or did she think that he’d forget her altogether?
“Not a chance,” he said. “I’m not leaving you like this, injured and bleeding.”
“The bleeding stopped. The rest will heal. Please, just take your van and go. There are some very bad men looking for me. You don’t want to be around when they find me.”
“When, not if, they find you? You think that’s going to get me to leave—that you’re going to put me in danger? What about you? Who will be there for you when these very bad men find you?”
“No one. That’s kind of the point. I can’t have you hanging around, throwing off my groove.”
He looked around the warehouse for whatever had forced her to leave—for the thing that was more important than him.
She’d parked the semi inside and had loaded boxes onto the shelving lining the walls. A large pallet of yoga mats blocked his view, but nothing he saw here seemed important or pressing.
Anger grew in his gut like a storm. “I see. Your groove.”
“Clearly you don’t see, or you wouldn’t still be here.”
“What about me freeing you from your compulsions? Did that mean nothing? You promised me blood in exchange for your freedom. I don’t know how you think you’ll escape your vow.”
Unless…
“It didn’t work, did it?” he asked.
Her silvery-green eyes closed. Her shoulders sagged. “It doesn’t matter. You tried. I appreciate that.”
Tried and failed. No wonder she’d left.
Disappointment calmed the storm of anger building inside him. He’d so wanted to free her, to be her hero.
What a silly thing for a man like him to want. He was no one’s hero.
“So, you left because you’re angry with me?” he asked with no heat in his tone. “Angry because my efforts failed?”
She was so surprised by his question, she actually jerked. “What? No. Of course, not. I left because I had no choice. The fates had plans for me. I wrote you the note because I didn’t want you to worry or to follow me.”
“Why not?” He stepped forward a little more but resisted the urge to reach for her.
Her eyes closed in defeat. “I don’t want to get you killed.”
“I’ve survived for a long time and have been in more than one dangerous situation. Our world is filled with nightmares. You don’t bring any more to my doorstep than are already there.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain it. Make me understand.”
Her eyes shimmered, but he couldn’t tell if it was from tears or the industrial lights high overhead. “It’s not the nightmares you have to worry about, Ronan. It’s me.”
“Are you planning to kill me?”
“No, but I’m not exactly the one planning my life. I’ve killed those who trusted me before. If the fates demand it, I will again.” Her eyes shone with tears. “I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.”
This time he was certain he saw tears.
He couldn’t see her suffer and not do something to ease her pain, so he crossed the space and gathered her in his arms. She was stiff at first, but quickly melted inside his embrace.
How horrible must it be for her to hold herself at a distance because she never knew who she’d be compelled to hurt next? How isolating. How lonely.
Ronan tipped up her chin so she’d see his eyes and know he was telling her the truth. “I won’t stop trying to free you, Justice. I won’t give up. Just because I failed once, doesn’t mean we’re defeated.”
Her eyes were luminous and brimming with tears caught in her thick lashes. “What if I can’t be freed? I don’t want you wasting precious energy on a childish dream.”
“Needing to be free isn’t childish. And I’ve wasted a lot more magic on far less important goals. Besides,” he said, offering her a small smile, “it gives me an excuse to be near you.”
She shook her head. “But that’s the problem. No one should be near me.”
“Bullshit. You’re an amazing woman. It’s selfish of you to keep all that to yourself.”
She stared at him in awe, as if no one had ever told her she was deserving of something as simple as companionship.
Maybe they never had.
“I’m not leaving you, Justice. And if you leave me again, I’ll just follow. Until I find a way to free you, you’re stuck with me.”
There was relief in her expression, but also fear. He could smell it radiating out from her skin.
“I don’t want to kill you, Ronan.”
He slid his fingers into her curls. “You won’t. I believe that. Whatever these fates of yours are, they don’t bear the taint of Synestryn. Until we can free you from them, we’re just going to have to trust that they know what they’re doing.”
She let out a hollow bark of laughter. “That’s easier to say when you’re not the one leaving destruction in your wake.”
Something in her tone, in her expression told him she wasn’t speaking of the past. “What happened?”
Her gaze slid to the floor. “An old woman died because of me today.”
“You killed her?”
“Death by proximity. Just like what will happen to you if you don’t leave.”
He shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“We can still meet. I’ll still give you my blood.”
Just the mention of it made his skin tingle with anticipation. His mouth watered and his fangs itched and began to lengthen.
Ronan shoved all of that down and concentrated only on Justice. “It’s not about the blood. I care about you.”
She flinched like he’d hit her. “Please, don’t.”
“Too late.” He more than cared about her, but he wasn’t yet ready to admit that, even to himself.
She pushed away from him and took several steps back. “I can’t handle emotional ties, Ronan. Not with the life I lead.”
“I can’t handle using you for your blood. I’m not a monster.”
“You use others that way.”
“Not even close. What I offer is a fair trade. Blood for healing, longevity, children.”
“You give people children?”
He shouldn’t have said that. It was too close to revealing the existence of Project Lullaby. No one could know about that. It was too dangerous. Too volatile.
He covered up his mistake. “I help peop
le conceive, sometimes. When they wish.”
And even when they didn’t, but he wouldn’t tell her that.
He stepped toward her to close the distance. He didn’t like being too far away from her to touch her.
“Do you have children?” she asked.
“No. Sanguinar don’t breed. It would be too cruel to bring a child into a world without enough blood to allow them to thrive.”
She seemed to relax slightly. “I can never have a baby either. If I did, the fates might make me hurt her or abandon her.”
The fact that Justice thought of her baby as a girl meant she had thought about it. Possibly even dreamed about it the way his kind did—in the way children dreamed of fairies and unicorns.
He moved another step closer. “If you let me try to free you again, then perhaps one day, you could become a mother.”
She gave a tight shake of her head. “I won’t think about that. I can’t.”
“I understand.” And he did. Intimately.
He was close enough to touch her again and she hadn’t run away. That was a good sign.
“Would you like me to try to free you again?” he asked.
Her green gaze met his. “I doubt I’ll have much time before the fates send me on their next errand.”
“I won’t need much. I already learned where to find the connection to the fates. It won’t take long for me to try to sever it again.”
“That didn’t work last time.”
“Perhaps I didn’t sever it close enough to the source. Or perhaps there were more than one connection and I didn’t cut them all. I won’t know until I try again.”
“You’re desperate for more blood, aren’t you?”
“Not at all.” Though the smell of it was definitely making it hard to think straight.
She had no idea what a temptation she was.
Her dark brows rose. “Really? Does that mean you won’t care if I do this?” She tilted her head to the side and swept her hair away to display the pulse in her throat and the twin scars he’d left on her.
Everything inside of him clenched in need. He wasn’t starving, but his need for her blood went far deeper than mere food or power. With her, feeding was an intimate tie that bound them together, and when it came to Justice, he wanted her bound to him as tight as he could get.
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