I glared at him, considering a retort. But in the end I kept my mouth shut because he was right. I wasn’t defenseless. In fact, I was glad to have the fact acknowledged, even if only by him. Grinning, I turned back to Abby.
She was gone.
“I’m sorry, Faythe,” she said from halfway up the stairs. “I can’t stay. It’s too…horrible.”
I caught up with her in the kitchen, grabbing her arm to stop her. “Sit down for a minute, Abby.” I pushed a kitchen chair toward her and she stared at it as if it might swallow her whole.
“I’d rather stand.”
“Fine. I understand. But I can’t let you leave by yourself. Daddy has a team on the way, and one of the guys will drive you to the ranch. Your parents are there waiting for you, Abby. Don’t make them worry any more than they already are by running off on your own.”
How had I gone from being a habitual runner to counseling my cousin to stay put?
She hesitated, begging me with huge, haunted brown eyes not to make her stay. I felt for her but I stood firm. She couldn’t go without an escort. Since I’d agreed to work for my father, she was officially under my protection, and if anything happened to her on my watch, there would be hell to pay for all involved. Especially me.
I was two seconds from threatening to lock her back up when she gave in with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, I’ll stay. But I could use a shower.”
Thank goodness. I really hadn’t wanted to physically detain her after all she’d been through already. “Through the living room and down the hall. Second door on the right. I can’t vouch for how clean it is.”
“So long as there’s soap and hot water, I don’t care.” She turned on her heel, still clearly irritated with me. The shower started a minute later, and soon afterward, sobs joined the rhythm of the running water, with a halting, hiccuping beat of their own. I wished there was somewhere I could go to give her privacy. She had the right to grieve for her innocence alone, but I wasn’t willing to go back into the basement.
Ten minutes later, Abby joined me in the kitchen. She was wearing the same clothes but she smelled like soap and her hair was clean, hanging halfway down her back in damp curls.
“Feel any better?” I asked, kicking out the chair opposite me at the table.
“No.” She wrapped her hands around the curved chair back. “Just cleaner. And hungry.”
“Help yourself.” I nodded toward the refrigerator.
She chose three frozen breakfast burritos, stuffing them all in the microwave at once. We sat in silence until the timer buzzed, then I watched her chew as I tried to think of something to say. We’d been through a lot together in the last couple of days, but somehow discussing any of it seemed wrong, like a child’s reluctance to talk about a bad dream for fear of it coming true. Only, our nightmares already had.
Abby stared out the kitchen window as she ate, her expression one of desperate longing. I knew how she felt, like as long as we were still in that house, we weren’t really free. Like Miguel might return at any minute and lock us back up. Like we were stupid for staying when we were free to escape. Every instinct I had, both cat and human, told me to grab her hand and run as far and as fast as I could. But I didn’t, because I’d told Daddy we would wait for the enforcers, and it’s never a good idea to break your word to an Alpha. The only guy I knew who’d done that walked with a permanent limp and wore false teeth. Including his canines.
Outside, an engine growled as a vehicle approached the house. My head snapped up. I stared out the window but couldn’t see it yet. My breath caught in my throat as I waited for the car to pass. But it didn’t. It pulled into the driveway.
Twin rectangles of light flashed on the wall, sunlight reflecting off chrome to shine through the window in the front door.
Abby froze, her last bite halfway to her mouth. Her hand shook in terror.
I wanted to look out the window but couldn’t chance exposing myself. I glanced at the clock. Marc was fast, but not that fast. It couldn’t be him. Not yet.
Abby dropped her food on the table. She didn’t even pause when she missed the plate. She stood quickly. Her chair fell over, clattering on the linoleum. She backed slowly toward the living room. Her eyes never left the front door.
My heart pounded. Adrenaline surged through my veins as my body prepared to fight. I wouldn’t let him put his hands on me again. I wouldn’t go back in the cage. Not as long as I was breathing. After that, it wouldn’t matter.
Outside, one car door opened, followed by another. Heavy footsteps thumped up the porch steps. The front door flew open, splintering the rectangles of light into shards of shadow.
Marc called my name.
Relief washed through me like an Arctic wave, extinguishing flames of rage that had flared up especially for Miguel. My arms hung limp at my sides, my fingers tingling. I was numb with shock, frozen in place.
“Faythe?” Marc called again.
“We’re in here.” Abby flew past me into the dining room and threw herself at Marc, hanging from his neck like a Velcro-pawed monkey. He tried to pry her off, but she clung to him, sobbing as if she’d discovered a fresh reserve of tears. Marc glanced at me over her head and motioned for help, but I just watched them. I couldn’t move.
Someone peeled Abby’s arms from Marc’s neck, but I didn’t see who, because I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his. When he was free—Abby now clinging to someone else—he stared at me from across the room.
What? I thought. What is he waiting for? Then I understood. He thought I’d left him. He thought I’d run out on him again without a word of warning, as I’d done five years earlier. And I had. Only this time I’d meant to come back, even if only to explain.
I smiled hesitantly, and he smiled back, his eyes shiny with tears. I didn’t so much see him move as feel the air displaced in his wake. The next moment, I was in his arms, my feet dangling several inches from the floor while he squeezed me hard enough to crack my spine.
He lowered me slowly, watching my eyes as I slid down the front of his body. He was searching for rejection, or even doubt. If he’d seen any, he might have actually given up. He might have finally believed I didn’t love him. It was the opportunity I’d been waiting for. Only I was no longer sure I wanted it.
The one thing I was sure of was that I wanted to lay my head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. So I did. He wrapped his arms around me, and for a long moment neither of us moved.
“How the hell did you get here so fast?” I asked, my battered cheek pressed into his shirt.
“He nearly blew up Dad’s van, that’s how,” Ethan said. I glanced up to see his usual goofy grin, and eyes a shade greener than I remembered. He was happy to see me. It was mutual. “He drove a hundred miles an hour almost all the way from Louisiana.”
I laughed, not a bit surprised.
Marc tilted my face toward his, claiming my attention for himself. He hesitated, waiting for my permission, and I knew what he wanted. I nodded, and he kissed me gently, as if afraid he might hurt me. But when he pulled away, his face was etched with pain, as if I’d hurt him instead.
Marc lifted a strand of my hair, smelling it. Storm clouds rolled across his eyes, dark with the promise of danger to come. His fist clenched around the strand, and I saw the conflict raging within him. He released my hair one finger at a time, very slowly, fighting with each movement to maintain control.
“What did they do to you?” he whispered, low enough that no one else could hear. Low enough that I wasn’t sure whether I’d actually heard him, or read his lips.
“Nothing,” I said as comprehension drenched me, cold and clear. He thought I’d let them have me, that I’d sacrificed my body for my life. He didn’t understand that I would rather have died than give in to them.
In an instant, a single agonizing instant, panic consumed me. It rolled over and around me like the incoming tide, threatening to wash me out into a sea of misery. The sudden irrational fear that he mig
ht not want me now left me numb with shock and sick with dread. After all these years of him chasing and me running, he would finally give me up because he couldn’t stand what he thought had happened.
And in that moment I realized I didn’t want him to give up on me. I might not have been ready to give in to him completely, but neither was I ready for him to stop trying.
“Out,” Marc growled at the others, his eyes still holding mine captive.
Ethan stuttered an objection, unwilling to leave me alone with Marc without my permission.
“Out, now,” Marc ordered again, and I nodded at Ethan. Parker ushered everyone onto the sun-bathed back porch, then closed the door with one last questioning glance at us.
I watched Marc, bracing myself for the worst. I expected more anger or disgust, but I saw neither. He wasn’t mad. Not at me, anyway. He was hurt, and trying to hide it, even from himself.
“I can taste him on you.” He leaned over and sniffed me, my face and my neck. He would have gone farther down but I stopped him, pulling him back up to eye level. “I can smell them. Two of them. I’ll kill them, Faythe. Just tell me what they did, and I’ll kill them.”
I stiffened and backed away from him. “You’ll have to stand in line.” His eyes widened in surprise as I continued, “They learned a lesson, Marc. That’s what they did. The one you taste is Eric. He’s downstairs with Ryan, and by my estimate, he stopped breathing over an hour ago. Right around the time I bit through his throat.
“And this one…” I touched the side of my neck, where Miguel had left his distinctive jungle scent. “This one is Miguel, and this is his.” I pulled out the front of my shirt, stiff with dried blood. Well, the shirt was actually Marc’s, but it wasn’t the time to gripe over technicalities. “I’m not done with him yet. But when I am, he’ll bear a striking resemblance to the corpse downstairs. At least from the neck up.” I paused, amused by his astonished expression. “Any more questions?”
“Actually, yeah. Several.” I laughed, but he just frowned at me. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” I stepped back into his embrace. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
He tilted my face up. “Are you really okay?”
“Better than ever, actually. Kicking ass is surprisingly therapeutic.”
“I’ve been saying that for years but nobody listens.”
“Welcome to my world,” I said, and he laughed. “I guess we’d better let them in.”
“In a minute.” He kissed me again, and I let him, fighting the urge to cling to him like Abby had. It would have felt so good to let him hold me, to cry while he stroked my hair. But that wouldn’t have been a very good way to start my first assignment. Especially since I was supposed to be in charge.
So instead, I settled for one more kiss, then pushed him away gently. “Go get the guys. Please.”
Marc opened the back door, and Abby came in, followed by my very first team of enforcers. I took note of each as he passed, taking mental inventory of the bodies under my command.
The man who’d rescued Marc from Abby turned out to be her oldest brother, Lucas Wade. He was built a little like a linebacker and a lot like a Mack truck, with shoulders wide enough that he had to enter most rooms sideways. People generally took one look at Lucas and walked the other way, especially if they ran across him at night. In cat form, he was the largest tom I’d ever personally met, weighing in at more than three hundred pounds and measuring over seven feet long, including his tail. While his human form was shorter—just under six and a half feet—Lucas was big enough to make me wonder if Miguel had known about Abby’s brother when he grabbed her. If so, I’d have to seriously rethink describing Miguel as smart.
From the doorway, I glanced around the room, counting my blessings. Along with Marc and Lucas, Daddy had sent Ethan, Owen, and Parker. Except for Jace, all my favorite guys were present and accounted for.
After a quick round of hugs and greetings, I noticed several of the guys watching me closely, as if they wanted to ask me something but weren’t quite sure how to start. “What’s up, boys?” I asked, snagging a fresh can of Coke from the fridge.
Ethan answered, after a quick glance around at his fellow enforcers. “It’s not that we’re doubting your skills or anything, Faythe, but we gotta know. Dad said you bit through some guy’s neck…” He paused for confirmation, and I nodded, thoroughly enjoying the look of admiration I got in return. “How the hell did you get him to come near you in cat form?”
I grinned, and took a swig from the can. They still didn’t know about the partial shift. “That’s a long story. When this is all over, remind me that I have something interesting to show you guys.”
Parker frowned, but the glimmer of curiosity in Ethan’s eyes only grew. I laughed and Ethan leaned back against a cabinet, waiting for someone to start talking. Owen cleared his throat, and I looked up to find everyone staring at me. Oh yeah, I thought, blushing. I’m supposed to do the talking.
Six pairs of eyes followed me as I stepped forward to begin my very first briefing. “I assume Daddy told you about my idea,” I said, speaking to the room in general.
Marc’s eyes sparkled in amusement. “Well, he did mention something about you suffering delusions of competence and responsibility. His theory is that you took a pretty good hit on the head.”
I smiled at him gratefully, instantly at ease. “Ha-ha. You just don’t like the idea of me as your boss.”
“The way I heard it, we’re partners.” He leaned against the kitchen sink, crossing his arms over his chest in a familiar, cocky stance. He’d been standing just like that the first time he asked me out.
“Well, if you want to get technical…”
“I want to get out of here,” he quipped.
“Me, too.” I really wanted to hold his hand. “How soon do we need to be at the airport?”
“Our flight leaves at two-thirty,” Parker said. “It will take us at least half an hour to get to the airport, and we need to be an hour early to get through security.”
“Security. Shit.” I sank into a chair, already mourning the failure of my first assignment.
“What’s wrong?” Abby asked.
“I can’t fly. I don’t have any ID. Damn it!” I kicked an empty chair with my bare foot. It flew across the room and slammed into the wall, leaving a dent the size of a child’s fist. I might have been impressed with myself, if not for my throbbing big toe.
Marc knelt in front of me, his hands on my knees. “Tell me you love me.” His grin was irritatingly smug and cryptic.
I watched him through narrowed eyes, not bothering to hide suspicion. “Why?”
“Because it’s true.”
“You’ll have to do better than that.”
He pouted for show. “I’ve already come to your rescue. What could be better than that?”
“The way I remember it, I came to my rescue. I don’t see your bite marks on the dead guy in the basement.”
Ethan snickered, and Marc glared at him. I grabbed his chin and turned him back to face me. “If you have a point, make it.”
“Fine. But you’ll say it one of these days, and there just might be a witness around to keep you from denying it later.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” I said it with a smile, but Marc still looked hurt. He reached into his back left pocket and pulled out my wallet. I took it with wide eyes. “Why do you have my wallet?”
Pain flashed in front of his eyes for an instant, then it was gone, and I knew that whatever he said would be only half the truth. “Because your father taught me years ago to prepare for every possible complication. Like an unexpected flight.”
That was exactly the kind of advanced planning I was going to have to master to enjoy any success at my new job. “Thank you.” I closed my eyes, trying to remember what I’d been saying.
“We need to leave around one this afternoon,” Parker said, bringing me back on track.
“One p.m. Right.” I glance
d at the clock over the sink. “So that gives us just under three hours to get this place cleaned up. Let’s get going.” But they already were. And, really, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Even if I was technically in charge, they all knew what needed to be done a lot better than I did.
Owen knelt in front of the sink, searching for cleaning supplies. He came up with a roll of large black trash bags and nothing else. “Not so much as a Brillo pad. Someone will have to go shopping.”
“Fine.” I glanced down at my ruined clothes. “Parker, you go. Take Abby with you,” I added as an afterthought, hoping something as normal as a shopping trip might make her feel a little better. “There’s probably a drugstore nearby, or a Wal-Mart, if we’re lucky. Get what you need to clean, and get some fresh clothes for me and Abby. And toothbrushes, too,” I said, thinking of Eric’s tongue in my mouth. Marc wouldn’t mention it again, but I knew it bothered him. It bothered me, too.
“You want me to buy clothes?” Parker wrinkled his forehead in uncertainty.
“Unless you think I could make it through airport security drenched in blood.”
“I guess not,” he grumbled, glancing down at my shirt. “But, uh, what kind of clothes? And what size?”
“Come on, Parker, I know what to get.” Rolling her eyes, Abby grabbed his arm and tugged him out the front door and down the steps.
As my father’s van backed down the driveway, Ethan grabbed several trash bags and trailed the rest of the guys into the basement. “Time to shear the black sheep of the family,” he muttered, his usual smile grim and brittle. “What do you wanna bet momma’s boy’s less than happy to see us?”
“Go easy on him,” I said. “We’re not done with him yet.”
Ethan shrugged, noncommittal, and I started to follow him, but Marc pulled me aside. “Faythe, why don’t you let us handle the cleanup?”
“You? Clean?” I feigned shock, one hand over my heart. “Have you seen where you live?”
He laughed. “Just because I don’t dust compulsively doesn’t mean I don’t know how to deal with a corpse. This isn’t my first dead rogue, you know.”
Stray Page 34