She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and changed out of the tank and underwear she usually slept in. They were rumpled from her tossing and turning. She selected a pair of black pants that bordered on sweatpants and a simple yellow cotton tee. After toeing into her sandals, she stepped outside.
Judging by the morning’s weather, it was going to be a beautiful day. She wouldn’t enjoy one second of it until she knew Jace was safe. She couldn’t even call Maggie because the commander wanted to limit the spread of worry until they knew what was going on. Armana didn’t disagree, but she could’ve used her daughter’s support.
It was unfair to expect Cassie to offer her any support. She had to be frantic in her own low-key way, but they could lean on each other. And Cassie had her father. Armana didn’t have anyone.
Story of her life since that tragic night Bane died.
Her stomach clenched like it wanted to announce its hunger, but she was too upset to feel it. Instead it cramped and churned.
There were sounds of movement around her as Guardians and trainees prepared for the day. They all granted her a wide swath as usual. She’d tracked their habits, an old skill of hers she hadn’t left behind in Lobo Springs. She knew the youngest trainee stargazed on nights when his past refused to quit haunting him. The twin Guardians went to the local shifter club no less than three times a week. They left together, they came back together, and they probably fucked the same females together. She knew the property, the people, and their habits. If Commander Fitzsimmons ever wanted to know if there was something hinky going on, all he had to do was hit her up. But she never offered. It wasn’t her business. Not anymore. When Bane had died, she’d put her head down and concentrated on blending in.
But her isolation didn’t expand her social circle. None of the Guardians and the trainees knew what to make of her and it was like they sensed the undercurrent of unease between her and Jace.
She’d set out to change that, but not much time had passed since their tenuous reconciliation. And without Cassie’s encouragement, they wouldn’t have made it as far as they had.
Taking one step at a time up Cassie’s porch, Armana made sure that not one plank of wood squeaked. Her body was primed and ready to bolt if she sensed they had better things to do.
She knocked softly on the door and listened closely. No voices or movement carried from inside.
Had they gone to the lodge already to talk to Commander Fitzsimmons? Did Cassie have new information?
Tendrils of anger burned through her at the thought that she might have been left out. She was Jace’s mother, dammit.
She blamed the anger for spurring her to test the lock. The door was unlocked and the maternal part of her wanted to chide Cassie about the oversight. But Cassie was an adult and felt safe, and Armana wasn’t going to take that away from her. Jace would never forgive her.
The door swung open without a sound. She stepped inside. A quick peek to her right made her chastise herself. Cassie was curled up in a ball in the corner of the couch, asleep, and Gray dozed in a rocking chair next to her.
Dark circles rimmed Cassie’s eyes. She was wearing the same clothes she’d worn yesterday. Gray looked…good. He had cleaned up and was wearing a pair of Jace’s black sweats and a black T-shirt. Lines of stress and fatigue weren’t as prominent while he slumbered, but she could empathize with him as a parent. He’d earned every silver strand of hair on his head through his desire to make sure Cassie was safe and unharmed since the day she’d been born.
Maybe the affinity she felt toward Gray stemmed from the fact that they were both parents. That would explain why she was so drawn to the human man when she hadn’t been drawn to any man since she’d met Bane.
She stood in the entryway watching those two sleep. What now? She could dress and go for a run, but now that she was here she didn’t care to leave. Her movements would’ve woken a normal shifter, and while Cassie’s hearing had improved since her life had been combined with Jace’s, she wasn’t a shifter and had to be exhausted.
How late had they stayed up?
Gray’s eyes opened, his sharp inhale resonating through the room. His lack of panic at seeing someone standing in the doorway earned even more respect from Armana.
“I came to see how she was doing,” Armana whispered.
Gray scrubbed his face and sat forward, the soft rustle of his clothing and the scrape of the chair against the floor loud in the room. Cassie didn’t twitch.
He kept his voice low, but it was more than loud enough for Armana to hear. He could’ve breathed the words and she would’ve heard them just fine. “She finally fell asleep. She needs it.”
“I couldn’t sleep either.” Why’d she tell him that? He didn’t need to be bothered with her.
Gray rose, wincing as he straightened. He reached for a crutch and left the other resting against the wall. Using the crutch to bear his weight instead of his injured leg, he stooped down to grab an empty mug and saucer. A second one sat on the end table by Cassie.
Armana moved out of the way so Gray could get to the kitchen. She grabbed Cassie’s empty cup and followed.
“Is it unusual to not hear from them for long periods of time? The Guardians?” Gray set his stuff on the counter by the sink and hobbled to the fridge.
Armana shrugged even though Gray’s back was to her. A shifter would’ve sensed the movement. After all her time in the human world, she still compared the two species. But the last few months had been like getting reintroduced to her own kind. And it rankled. As the mate to the clan leader, she’d once been a leader of sorts.
A different life. One she’d known she was leaving when she’d fled with her children.
Gray glanced at her over his shoulder. That’s right, she hadn’t verbally answered.
“No, it’s not unusual. Neither is poor cell reception.” Normal didn’t matter in this situation. They were worried.
He lobbed the block of cheese onto the square table in the kitchen and grabbed a box of crackers off the counter. After tossing that onto the table, he snagged a knife from a drawer and pivoted around with the help of his crutch. He gestured to one of the chairs.
She set her dishes next to his and took a seat. “Until we hear a peep from him, we’re in a holding pattern.”
He held up the cheese. She shook her head.
“Have you eaten anything since we arrived?”
Her initial response was to say of course, but when she paused to think, no, she hadn’t had a bite. “I suppose I should have a chunk.”
“I managed to get a few crackers into Cassie last night. With the day we had yesterday, you would only be making yourself sick by not eating.” He met her gaze. His eyes were a warm shade of brown she could get lost in. “I’m assuming shifters are the same.”
A ghost of a smile played over her lips. “I suppose you two had a lot to talk about.”
His features tightened and he shrugged. “It was certainly enlightening.” A chuckle with a hint of scorn escaped him. “I never would’ve imagined talking like we did and not looking over my shoulder, expecting someone to take one or both of us away.”
The breath of sadness wafting through his expression shook her. Whatever had happened between him and Cassie when she was a child had left him with a deep-seated fear that he would make the same mistake and lose her forever.
Without thinking she reached over and draped her hand across his. It was the one holding the knife, but he put it down and turned his hand to clasp hers. The move startled her, the warmth of his hand soothing her, and for the first time in a long time she felt like she wasn’t alone.
Their eyes met and in the depths of his she recognized the same feeling.
“I would say that I think you understand me, but I don’t think your mind is messed up like mine.” He released her and picked his knife back up. He started slicing the cheese, his expression sheepish.
He was hard on himself, that was obvious. She was trying to figure out what w
as wrong when his gaze landed on the cupboards by the fridge.
“I’ll grab the plates.” She jumped up and grabbed two, then a third just in case Cassie woke up. Setting only two plates on the table hinted at a level of intimacy Armana wasn’t ready to think about, much less have witnessed.
“No one faults you for any level of disbelief,” Armana said. “I can’t imagine finding out that I was surrounded by a world so different from mine, one I knew nothing about.” In addition to the other challenges he had to face.
Gray snorted. “Part of my mind is still trying to convince me not to believe it, while the other part gleefully encourages me to buy into everything. What happened yesterday? I’m already wondering if there is something wrong with me. And the sucker punch is that I can’t even call my doctor and talk to him about it because I’d be putting Cassie in danger, and I know for sure that he’d recommend inpatient therapy.”
Back when she’d lived among the shifters, raising her family, she’d scorned humans and their pitiful problems. She used to say that humans and their problems were like babies crying because their candy got taken away, while shifters had to deal with their troubles for eternity.
Then she’d lived among the humans but had still clung tightly to a healthy dose of hubris. She had made enough friends to really learn what happened in their lives and the repercussions of it. Her hubris had turned to humility.
“I am sorry,” she said.
“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. If it weren’t for you, who knows where I’d be.”
He would’ve been wishing he were dead.
She heard Cassie stretch and stand up in the other room, but when Cassie appeared at the door, Gray’s brows popped up.
“Peanut, I was hoping you could get a little more sleep in.” He divided the cheese he’d sliced among all of their plates and opened the cracker box.
Cassie shuffled in and took a seat. “I’m surprised I slept as much as I did.”
They didn’t talk as they munched on their meager fare. Cassie stared into space, Gray glanced from his daughter to Armana, and Armana stared at her plate.
A loud chime sounded. All of their heads snapped up. Cassie gasped and jumped up, digging her phone out of her pocket.
“It’s Jace.” She rushed out of the room.
Armana exchanged a glance with Gray. The mom in her wanted to rush after Cassie, and she might’ve if Gray hadn’t been here. As long as his presence helped her suffer through the weight of not knowing, then she’d consider him her anchor.
Armana and Gray sat in silence while waiting for Cassie to finish and return. She was speaking in hushed tones in the living room. Her tone vibrated with tension and Armana’s apprehension rose a few notches. Cassie should sound relieved, excited.
And Cassie had been around shifters long enough to keep her voice pitched low enough for only Jace to hear.
Something was wrong.
Armana pinched the bridge of her nose and sucked in a measured breath.
“You don’t think everything is okay?” Gray broke into her thoughts. She should be irritated. Decades ago, she’d literally bitten a pack member while she was in the middle of an anxiety attack. Bane had been off confronting the nasty bastard ultimately responsible for his death and she’d had small kids to care for and pack members tattling on each other to her. Anyone who had bothered her then had felt her wrath. She used to be vicious when she thought the moment called for it. Then life had become about the survival of her remaining children and she’d built a protective shell around herself.
Being with Gray offered nothing but solace. She didn’t bother blowing smoke to cover up her emotions.
“I can’t make out her words, but no, all is not well.”
“I can’t imagine what you’re going through. I know Cassie is in the other room and even though I still worry about her, at least she’s here. And according to her, she’s surrounded by people, beings—whatever—who are protecting her and everyone else here. But your son goes running into the fire.”
Armana gave him a small smile. It wasn’t often her kind acknowledged what parents went through. Stay proud. Stoic. It was all a badge of honor. To run around fearful and confused was an insult to their entire race.
“In many cases, he creates the fires,” she said. “My daughter, too.”
Gray’s eyebrows rose, then he nodded. “That’s right. Cassie said his sister was law enforcement in another town.”
“Village, yes. That’s what we call them. Villages or colonies. I… It’s not like our kind to show weakness, but I’ve lived among humans too long. I know that expressing the occasional pang of fear or dismay doesn’t break us.”
“I get that.”
Her forehead creased. She hadn’t expected him to commiserate about suppressing feelings.
He pushed his plate away. What little appetite they’d had disappeared when the phone rang. “I have a hard time telling Cassie what’s really going on in my life. If I have a bad day at work, is she going to worry that I’m on the verge of relapse? What about if I’m cranky and short of sleep? Is she going to think my meds aren’t working?”
Ah yes. He had his own reason for a consistent show of strength. “It’s more than that. I don’t know what Cassie told you about Jace’s past, but I failed him when he needed me the most.”
“It might not surprise you that she didn’t mention much of anything about Jace’s past. When she first met him, she said he was estranged from his mom and sister. Then last year, she mentioned that Maggie had found him and was in the same line of work, and you two were talking again.” The corner of his mouth hitched.
“We’re talking again. Not much more than that.”
Cassie appeared in the doorway. Her hand shook as she pushed her hair off her pale face. “He’s, uh, he couldn’t talk long. He has to report to the commander.”
Armana silently cheered her boy. He should’ve reported in first, talked to Cassie later, but since they couldn’t communicate like shifter mates could, he’d shirked duty for a few moments to speak to her.
Again, Gray surprised her with his easy manner. He didn’t jump on Cassie for information but waited patiently. The girl was trying to gather herself.
“He and Malcolm raided a house where they thought girls were being stored, but it was a trap. They had to run…on foot. He couldn’t tell me where he was at, but they found a phone as soon as they could. He said the commander should fill us in on the rest after Jace reports to him.”
“More waiting, huh?”
Cassie rubbed her eyes. “Yeah. He’s not out of the woods yet. Pun intended, but not funny. I’m going to shower.”
She slogged away like the weight of the forest was on her shoulders. Armana collected their food and dishes and cleaned up. Gray wrestled to his feet and planted himself by the sink to wash. Armana fell in beside him with a dish towel for drying.
She wouldn’t read more into it than was there, but it was hard not to compare Gray to her deceased mate. Bane hadn’t been a domesticated male. He’d been a great father and a loving mate, but supporting his partner with all the household chores had been beneath him. He was the leader; he had no time to even clean up his spot at the table.
Gray scrubbed the teacups from the previous evening. “What has Cassie told you about being taken away from me?”
“Not much. I’m guessing that a lack of explanation will be a common theme.”
Gray chuckled softly. The muscles in his biceps flexed as he rinsed the cup and handed it to her. Finally, she had something to do other than watch his body move out of the corner of her eye.
“You’d be right. Everything was normal. Lillian and I were diligent about my treatment, and honestly I got by treating myself with little more than a really strong dose of vitamin B.” He fell quiet. “Maybe that’s where we went wrong. When she fell ill, it took her so fast that I lost it.”
Sickness. Her kind was spared from that form of suffering. Bane had been taken
quickly, along with her oldest son. It wasn’t better, but it had probably saved her sanity.
“I might’ve taken more precautions, sought treatment earlier,” he said. The disappointment with himself was obvious as his brow drew down. How long ago had it been?
“Or you might’ve been so wrapped up in your grief and raising a young child that you did only what you needed to do to survive each day.” That was what those dark years after Bane’s and Keve’s deaths had been like.
“True. The voices started before she passed. Then the hallucinations. I was standing by her casket, seeing a bunch of men in black. It was like Agent Smiths were hiding everywhere.” At her quizzical look, he clarified. “It’s a movie reference. The Matrix.”
“That’s right.” She chuckled. “I’d forgotten about that.” She’d lost herself in movies after the kids had gone to bed and she couldn’t run in the woods. Once Maggie reached adulthood, she’d taken to jogging and walking, but sleepless nights had called for cable.
“Anyway, I bought a bunch of survival supplies and went on the run.” He waved his soapy hand around. “We were perma-campers, really. I made zero arrangements and the school was the one that initiated the call to law enforcement. Social services got involved and a vacationer reported seeing us…” He lifted a shoulder and she couldn’t pry her gaze off the ripple of muscle. He was rather fit for a human.
“You were institutionalized?”
“They called it inpatient therapy. I couldn’t get Cassie back once I got out and I didn’t fight it.” His brow creased. He must think he should have tried.
It was like a dark cloud hung in the kitchen when bright rays shone through the window.
Now might be a good time to share her story.
“A rogue shifter couldn’t overthrow my mate so he hired vampires to attack our village. My mate and my son, Keve, died in the battle. Then the bastard came to threaten Maggie later that night.” Armana wanted to spit. “The dirt hadn’t even settled on their graves. I fled with Jace and Maggie. Like you, no arrangements were made.”
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