Once he'd gathered the strength, Silver undertook another difficult shift from coyote to human. He sat up, gathering the blanket. As soon as he could speak, Silver said to Disco, "You got shot in the ass?"
"Shut up." Disco kicked at Silver, but really only toed him. The bass guitarist offered a quirky, reluctant smile. "I'm glad you made it out of that alive, man."
Silver grinned. "Yeah, me too."
"So, where's the box?" Disco looked from Silver to Hannah and back again, seeking answers. His brow knit and then jumped.
An excruciating silence followed during which Silver's voice froze. When Hannah leaned over and took his hand, he grasped her fingers tight. He couldn't bring himself to look at Branwen, but he also lacked the cruelty necessary to condemn her in front of the pack. Disco took a harsh position on deceit perpetrated within the band. Silver wouldn't have put it past Disco to banish Branwen.
"The last time I saw the box, the dragon had it," Hannah said, a smooth lie and technical truth that closed the matter. "Good riddance. If I never see that thing again, it won't be soon enough."
"I'll second that," Silver said.
Disco scowled but then seemed to dismiss the matter. "C'mon, let's get out of here while the gettin's good."
"I'll second that." Silver grasped his lover's hand and leaned close to whisper against her ear. "Thank you."
"Anything for you." Hannah pressed her fingertips against his breast, digging into skin and sinew—the exact spot where the five-line staff was bare, waiting for her song to be engraved forever over his heart.
Chapter Eighteen
Despite the winter chill, night-blossoming jasmine grew on the bungalow's patio and perfumed the air with its fragrant sweetness. Lovingly, Hannah tucked the comforter beneath her grandmother's chin.
Bonita offered up a sleepy smile and said, "Goodnight, my love."
"Good night, Nana. Sleep well." Hannah placed a gentle kiss on Bonita's soft cheek and patted her hand before easing away. She shut off the lamp on the nightstand and padded from the bedroom. Nana's nasal snore rumbled behind Hannah, assurance that Bonita had dropped straight into a deep slumber.
"Is she asleep?" Fiona lounged on her side atop the small loveseat in the main room. She had her head propped on her hand. She wore her long red hair down, a messy tangle about her shoulders, and a pair of PJs borrowed from Branwen.
"She's asleep." Hannah leaned back and propped hers back against the door. In unison, she and her twin heaved long sighs. They were both exhausted from the exhausting ordeal of the last week while Balthazar had kept Bonita as his hostage.
"Thank goodness." Covering a yawn, Fiona sat upright. "This place is amazing, by the way. I wish we could stay more than one night."
"Yeah, me too," Hannah said, fighting a frown. She really wished she could remain a lot longer, too... like maybe forever?
On her insistence, she and her little family had returned with Silver and his band to Ursula's Montecito estate. Her staunch determination had earned Hannah odd looks from both her grandma and sister, but they hadn't argued. In her heart, she sincerely believed the mini-vacation was for the best. In the morning, once they'd all rested and recovered a bit, they'd return home to deal with their ransacked home. Until then, a phone call to a neighbor had seen to the care of their pet cat and their landlord had been notified of the broken front door.
"How're you doing?" Hannah ambled over and perched on the edge of the loveseat beside her sister. On an intuitive level, she perceived her twin's unspoken sorrow. Fiona had plenty of tells that gave her away. She averted her gaze after only a moment's eye contact and her characteristically cheerful smile was forced.
"Okay, I guess." Fiona shrugged and sniffled. "I miss Marcus."
"I can't believe you fell for the guy who held you hostage. Have you heard of Stockholm Syndrome?" Hannah gave Fiona a teasing nudge.
Fiona flushed. "Stop. I fell for Marcus ages before he took me prisoner."
"Ages! You've known him for less than a week."
Initially, Hannah had been vexed to learn Fiona had—literally—fallen into bed with the enemy. Once she got over her initial consternation, however, it didn't surprise her at all. The whole convoluted thing was so Fiona.
"I couldn't help myself. I fell for him the first time I laid eyes on him." Fiona's blush deepened further so the freckles on her nose and cheeks were all that more prominent. "Besides, you're one to talk! You'd think after Nick, you'd have the good sense to stay away from coyotes."
Hannah jumped straight to her lover's defense. "Silver helped me when he didn't have to. His friends risked their lives, too, and they did that for Silver. Even after he found out I'd been lying to him, Silver forgave me. He still fought for me. He's not perfect, not by a long shot, but he's nothing like Nick."
"Good," Fiona said with undo smugness. "I could tell Silver is a great guy the minute I met him."
"Why'd you say that then?" Hannah rocked back.
"I had to be sure you knew it, too." Fiona laughed and shook her head. "Face it, sis, Nick screwed with your head. You made one bad choice when you were young and you've been second-guessing your judgement ever since."
"Maybe so." Hannah winced. Irritation flashed through her, but she got over it. It certainly wasn't worth holding a grudge over.
"You're lucky." Fiona offered a watery smile, but her envy was unmistakable.
"What do you mean?" Hannah looked to her sister for clarification.
"You said Silver forgave you for lying to him." Fiona compressed her lips to a flat line and fisted her hands. "Marcus is furious with me. He hates liars and thieves... and I'm both."
"That's totally unfair." Hannah stiffened with anger on her sister's behalf. "Did you tell him about Bonita?"
"I told him the truth... after I got caught." Fiona held up a staying hand when Hannah opened her mouth to interrupt.
Hannah snapped her mouth closed so hard her teeth gnashed together. Fuming, she hunched over to listen to the rest of her sister's explanation.
"Marcus understands why I did it. He insisted I should've trusted him sooner and come to him for help. He says he can't ever trust me again." Fiona finished with a watery sniffle. Her eyes were watery, and her lips trembled.
"That’s a crock! What were you supposed to do? You've known him less than a week. He sounds like an absolute blockhead." Hannah preferred a more colorful descriptor for Marcus Malkin, but she doubted her sister would appreciate it.
"He's a stubborn ass, that's for sure." Fiona snuffled and leaked a few tears which she dashed away with the back of her hand.
"I'm sorry, hon. Maybe it's a family curse. The women in our family are unlucky in love." Hannah wrapped her arms around her twin and pulled her close. Fiona hugged her in return.
Fiona huffed and pulled away. "What're you doing making it sound like you're including yourself in the heartbreak club? You have a lover who killed to set you free. I'm willing to bet Silver is waiting at the door for you right now. Don't tell me you're not sneaking out to meet him."
"I'm sneaking out to meet him," Hannah conceded. "I want to spend the night with him. Will you be okay with Nana?"
"We'll be fine." Fiona pushed Hannah off the couch. "Go on, get."
"Hey!" Hannah stumbled a couple steps before recovering. That her exhaustion slowed her reactions as much as it did was telling. She desperately needed sleep, but more than that, she needed to make her stance clear to her sister. "I'm going to say goodbye to him for good. When we leave tomorrow morning for home, I don't plan to see him again."
Fiona narrowed her eyes and clenched her jaws. "You're an idiot."
"Fiona, please. I have to do this. Nick's only been dead a few hours. I can't just jump straight into a new relationship before his corpse has even cooled."
"Screw Nick!" Fiona shot to her feet. "You jumped into a relationship with Silver before Nick even died. He's got nothing to do with anything and I'm sick of hearing his name."
"Stop shou
ting. You're going to wake up Nana." Hannah cast a worried glance toward the bedroom door.
"Nana could sleep through the start of a nuclear war. You know what? I'm too tired to argue with you. Go say goodbye to Silver. Maybe he can talk some sense into you." Fiona threw up her hands, flounced across the room, and slammed the bathroom door shut behind her.
"Drama queen." Hannah muttered a few other choice words but soon gave up. She lacked the energy to muster real ire. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. She didn't want to fight with Fiona; however, their continuous spats were part and parcel of their relationship. In a way, it was a sure sign things were returning to normal.
They would have plenty of time to talk tomorrow on the drive home. Hopefully, with Bonita present to act as a buffer, it would go smoother. Repeating those self-assurances, Hannah eased from the bungalow. She'd forgotten her shoes in the bedroom but she didn't want to go back and risk another charged encounter with Fiona.
Barefoot, she stole her way across the estate, wincing when the icy pavement bit at her soles. On the porch of Silver's chalet, she knocked and waited, shivering from a lot more than the cold. An awful sense of desolation and loneliness reduced her defenses to dirt. The destruction of her mate bond had left a gaping hole inside her, an injury that hadn't yet begun to heal.
The severity of her trauma proved that breaking off with Silver was the right thing to do. She needed time to heal. She couldn't go straight from the shackles of one mate bond into another, sacrificing her newly acquired freedom without having first explored it. It would be a terrible mistake, one to haunt her for the rest of her life. First she would regret it, and then regret would turn to resentment. Eventually, she would wind up loathing Silver. The prospect sickened her and fortified her resolve.
"I was starting to worry you weren't coming." Silver swung the door open wide. He wore a pair of snug black boxers, and nothing else. Hannah hurled herself at him. The collision knocked him back and their legs tangled. Together, they staggered a pace.
"Silver." In irrational desperation, Hannah buried her face against his chest and locked her arms around his waist. She clung with all her strength. His skin was warm and inviting, as was his earthy scent.
"Hey, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" Silver framed her face in his hands.
"I'm not." She struggled to breathe. Her chest was constricted, a suffocating weight. She shifted her grip, closing her hands about his biceps hard enough to leave bruises. When he bowed his face toward her, she surged to meet him. Their mouths mashed together and yeah, he was right—she had salty tears on her cheeks and lips.
Silver pulled back, trying to ask another question. Hannah took advantage of the opportunity. She pressed her tongue past his parted lips and delved deep. She swiped the smoothness of his teeth and the roughness of the roof of his mouth. He tasted like music and laughter and passion; everything that made life worthwhile.
She broke the kiss, pulled away, and blurted, "I came to say goodbye."
Silver jerked in the grip of real pain. His gaze acquired a smoldering intensity, but his face froze in a stoic mask that gave away nothing. He stayed quiet so long she wondered if he'd heard her. Or maybe he had and recognized that arguing would do no good.
Either way, prickly discomfort drove her to offer a rushed explanation. "I want to spend tonight with you but I'm won't lie to you. Tomorrow, when my family leaves, I'm going with them. Please understand, this is on me, not you."
"Isn't that how it always goes?" Silver laughed, trying to make light, but his voice cracked in the first off-key note she'd ever heard him utter.
She flinched. "I'm sorry. I can't trade one prison for another."
"This is goodbye for good?" Silver asked quietly.
Hannah gave a quick nod because her throat was clenched too tightly to answer. More tears slid down her cheeks. She expected him to retaliate with an angry rejection. She deserved every mean word he chose to utter. Certainly, he would refuse to touch her.
"Tonight, you'll stay with me?" He stroked his knuckles along the line of her jaw and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She trembled beneath his touch, quaking like a fall leaf in the chill winter wind.
"Yes, if you want me." She choked on a sob and hiccupped. She'd put him in an impossible position. She despised herself for being so cruel, but she was too much of a coward to sacrifice her second chance at freedom.
"I want you." He rubbed his lips across her, a kiss so tender that it devastated the final vestiges of her control. She shed more tears that he wiped away from her cheeks. He coaxed her toward the bedroom.
"You won't stop me from leaving?" Hannah winced when she croaked, sounding more frog than fox. To her ears, the question held the ring of desperation. Deep down, maybe she really wanted him to stop her. A contrary part of her hoped he would, even though it would destroy their tenuous trust.
"Hannah, I love you. I'll fight for you, and I'll die for you." Silver eased back a step. His regard was direct and unwavering. "What I won't be is your prison. I won't ever stand between you and freedom. If the only way to prove that is to open my arms and let you go, that's what I'll do."
"That's what I want." Hannah mustered the entirety of her willpower and put it behind the resolve. She thought her heart broke then, but it was already in too many tiny pieces to tell for sure.
"That's how it'll be then." A sad, sweet smile played on Silver's lips. He claimed her in a searing kiss, lifted her into his arms, and carried her to the bed. When he lowered her onto the mattress, he whispered against her throat. "Tonight, though, you're mine."
"Tonight, I'm yours." Hannah tangled her fingers in his glossy black hair and surrendered herself to him. The little voice in the back of her head refused to be silent. It nagged—Coward. Liar. Run, but it won't change a thing.
Hannah would always belong to him.
* * *
Sometime after the sun rose, Silver woke to the rustle of sheets and the shift of the mattress as Hannah eased from the bed. He kept his eyes closed and stayed still. A part of him clung to the desperate hope that she'd changed her mind about leaving. She would use the bathroom and then crawl back into bed and his arms, and everything would be okay. The sound of her dressing in the dark soon dispelled that silly notion. He pretended to be asleep the whole time, even though the uneven cadence of his breathing had to give him away. He feared he would break his promise to let her go if he had to look into her eyes or speak to her.
On her way out, Hannah hesitated in the bedroom's doorway and looked back. Unbearable tension strained Silver to his breaking point while she deliberated. Then her tearful voice filled the terrible quiet.
"Goodbye, Silver." She left the bungalow, shutting the front door with a definitive click that marked the end of their association... of them.
Aching, Silver rolled over and buried his face into Hannah's pillow. The sheets retained a hint of her warmth and her foxy aroma clung to the fine cotton. He closed his eyes tightly and breathed her scent in deep, pretending she was still with him. He'd lost her—his life mate. The enormity defied comprehension, more than he could process. For the first time ever in his memory, he had no music in his soul, not even a song for mourning.
An hour passed, maybe more. Morning sunshine filtered through the drapes, brightening the entire room. Silver dragged himself upright. He hunched on the edge of the mattress, his elbows propped on his splayed thighs, and stared at the wooden door. He fidgeted with a silver zippo—flip the lid up, strike the flint, ignite the dancing flame, thumb it closed, extinguishing the fire.
Still no music.
A solid rap on his bedroom door finally jarred Silver from his stupor. He started and the zippo slipped between his fingers and dropped to the ground. When the door opened, he almost surged to his feet. For a joyous moment, he believed Hannah had come back. Then Branwen eased into the room, and the bitter sting of disappointment replaced his elation. With a grunt, he slouched again.
"Silver?" Branwen m
inced, shifting from foot to foot. When he didn't respond, she approached him warily. Her voice was small and uncertain. "I've been knocking and calling, but you didn't answer. I understand if don't want to talk to me, but please listen. I've come to apologize—"
"Branwen..." Silver stirred. He opened his mouth to tell her to get the hell out of his sight. A mean streak in him wanted to berate her. Branwen's deception had almost cost him and Hannah their lives.
"Silver, please. I'm begging you. Let me explain." Branwen clasped her hands together and beseeched him with pleading eyes. She trembled in the grip of terrible onus. Guilt tainted her scent with a bitter orange tang.
In the face of her suffering, cruelty deserted him. No surprise there, he'd never been one to hold a grudge. Heaving a heavy sigh, Silver thumped the mattress beside him in an unspoken invitation. When Branwen hesitated and warily hung back, watching him as though he might bite, he chuckled.
"I'm not Disco." He stood and opened his arms.
True to her nature, she flew across the room and into his embrace. Branwen was about Hannah's height but slimmer, more willowy-limbed. Even so, she still came close to knocking him off his feet. Her arms cinched around his waist like steel bands. He only had on a pair of boxers but nothing about her aroused him. Whereas Hannah's basal aroma hooked him like a drug, Silver responded to Branwen with a sort of brotherly affection and protectiveness. A tiny part of him regretted their lack of chemistry. It would've been easier to have fallen in love with Branwen, who was already an established member of his band and his life. She, at least, showed no sign of leaving.
"I'm so sorry. I never meant to put you or Hannah in danger with the counterfeit box." Branwen's apology was muffled against his chest.
"I know you didn't." Silver patted her on the back, and pushed her down to the bed. She sat under his direction and he plopped down beside her.
"I'm going to tell Disco and the others—"
"No, don't."
Branwen hushed. She swallowed convulsively. "They should know what I did."
Outfoxed: A Zodiac Shifters Paranormal Romance: Gemini Page 19