by May Dawson
“You need a babysitter. It’s okay,” Lex told him. He stopped in the doorway to add, “That’s why Skyla always plays video games with you while Chase goes grocery shopping.”
“You knock over one cereal box display and no one ever gets over it,” Penn muttered. He glanced at Chase, then told me, “I’ll be waiting outside.”
The guys cleared out except for Blake and Chase and Lex.
Skyla’s eyes fluttered open. “I dreamed about these monsters,” she mumbled.
Chase’s face was strained with rage or--no, fear. I saw that now. He was afraid for his sister, not just for her body but for her mind and spirit.
She was about to learn the monsters were real.
That she would be one of them.
“They weren’t nightmares,” she said softly. “Some of the monsters...they were my friends.”
Chase ducked his head, and I thought for a second he was going to cry, but he stood from his chair and leaned over her, his eyes dry. “That’s right, Skyla. No need for nightmares.”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
She looked around, confusion dimpling the skin between her amber eyes. “Where am I?”
“In the hospital. To make sure you don’t have...nightmares.”
She frowned at Chase. She still sounded groggy, and I unscrewed the top of a water bottle to offer it to her.
“Thanks, Maddie,” she said, before drinking several long gulps. She managed to glare at Chase even as she drank, before she handed the bottle back to me and told him, “I’m nine, not stupid, you know.”
Chase, despite himself, laughed.
“You should get some rest before our next mission,” he told me, and I could tell he was relieved by his sister’s sass for once. “I think we’ll be okay.”
I kissed him goodbye, then gave Skyla a big hug. She was going to be okay until we got back with the shield. That was what mattered.
Northsea House wasn’t lit up like it usually would have been in the evening. Dusk was just falling, but the house was still dark.
When we got inside, Rafe had ordered food for us all. He unpacked Chinese food onto the table in the lounge where we’d eaten pizza so many times, and then carried the rest of the bag over to the infirmary. I hated to see him go. I longed for some normalcy with him after the way we’d fought. He was being so robotic.
I curled up on the couch with Penn and Silas and Jensen, eating lo mein out of the container and talking about nothing important. It was comforting just to sit with them, being normal for a few minutes before we all collapsed into bed soon.
“I feel like an old man going to bed this early,” Penn said. “But it’s been a long….”
He trailed off.
“Did you just drift off, pal?” Jensen waved his hand in front of his face.
“I was going to say long day,” Penn said, “or long week, or… maybe a whole lifetime, really.”
“I’m going to read in my room for a while and unwind,” Jensen said. “I feel a little wound tight. I’ll catch up with you guys later.”
“I’m going to bed,” Silas said. “If we’re going into the Greyworld tomorrow, believe me, we’re all going to need our rest.”
That left just me and Penn.
He dropped his fork into his lo mein and reached to set it on the hardwood floor. “Stop it, Mads.”
“Stop what?”
“Feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Well, maybe that weight is inevitable. But stop thinking you have to carry it all on your own. We’re right here.”
My lips parted to argue with him, and he leaned in and kissed me. His lips were soft, tender. I wanted to put my hand on his shoulder, but I was afraid I’d graze his bandages. Penn and I shared a long, slow, searching kiss, and something unspooled in my chest as his lips went on caressing mine.
He pulled away, studying me as he pushed his dirty blond hair back from his face.
“Did you just kiss me to shut me up?” I asked, but I couldn’t be mad.
“You know that I would’ve gotten hurt even if you’d been there,” he said. “You just would’ve seen it. The moment I went up in flames.”
Just thinking about it made my heart pound. I could imagine Penn’s arms windmilling, the flames spreading across his body. I could imagine him trying to fight through his terror, and I felt that fear squeeze my own chest.
“And I’m glad you didn’t,” he said. “You can’t feel guilty about everything. Everyone on the team makes mistakes. Everyone gets hurt sometimes. That’s the nature of what we do.”
“It’s different,” I started to say, and he kissed me again. This time it made me smile, since I knew what he was doing, and I turned my head so his lips grazed the corner of my mouth.
“Okay,” I said, giving in. “But not everyone sees it that way, you know. And outside the team…”
“Outside the team doesn’t matter.” He pulled me under his arm, and I settled against his side carefully, breathing in that familiar, comforting scent of his body.
“I wish that were true, Penn,” I said quietly. If we couldn’t convince Clearborn and the Alpha council we belonged together, we’d all be split up as we graduated into different teams. And I didn’t know if we’d ever really see Lex or Rafe over the next few years.
But when Penn promised me everything was going to be okay and held me close, part of me believed it.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Rafe
When I came back into the lounge, Maddie and Penn were curled up together. I usually enjoyed seeing how close they all were, but today a strange throb of jealousy ran through me. How come things were never that simple and easy with Maddie and me?
I could tell Maddie wanted to talk to me, from the way her gaze kept finding mine, and part of me wanted to ignore her like a child.
Instead, I jerked my head at the door. She nodded, kissed Penn goodbye—he side-eyed me and murmured good luck--then walked ahead of me, her long blond hair swaying across the delicate small of her back. Even when I was pissed—even when we were both exhausted—I still couldn’t help noticing her. Wanting her.
“It’s been a long time since either of us have gotten any rest,” I said as soon as we were in privacy. “I don’t think now is a good time for a serious talk.”
She worried her lower lip with her teeth. “What are you going to tell Clearborn about our mission?”
I scoffed at that. “The truth?”
“Obviously, the truth, Rafe,” her voice came out sharp. “That was never in question. But we all have different ideas about what constitutes the truth—”
“That’s true,” I agreed. “That’s because in any given population, half of us are fools and psychopaths. The truth remains the truth, regardless.”
Her lips pressed together before she asked, her voice cool, “So which am I?”
“Would you stop?” I demanded, raking my hand through my hair. “Why are you acting like I’m the asshole here? You’re the one who disobeyed a direct order when it mattered most. We promised our relationship wasn’t going to impact how we acted in the field.”
“I wasn’t exactly being a brat for my own amusement there, Rafe,” she said. “I was trying to make sure our Fae friends survived the fight they were in, after they stood by our sides.”
Her bright blue gaze held mine, as if she were just as angry as I was. “Honestly, if it had been someone else, I wouldn’t have hesitated to tell them to fuck off. Running away to protect our mission and leaving them to die? That was the wrong call, Rafe.”
“And what if Blake and Skyla had died because you wouldn’t open the goddamn portal like I told you?” I couldn’t keep my voice down, and as soon as I’d yelled at her, I regretted it.
Her face shuttered, going to neutral. She’d learned that this past year, hadn’t she? Surrounded by assholes of various types—including the men she loved.
Then she said, her voice very calm, “I’ve been thinking about that. Believe me.
”
“Great,” I said. “You should keep thinking about it. Maybe you’ll make some better decisions one day in the future.”
She scoffed at that, just as furious as I was. “Yeah, well, maybe you will. You really don’t want to lead our team anymore?”
“It’s not a matter of want,” I said, my voice clipped. “I’m obviously not worthy.”
Her face changed, her lips parting. I shouldn’t have used that word. I corrected, “Ready. However you want to put it.”
“Rafe, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way…” she seemed to stumble on what to say, and irritation flared in my chest that she saw me as vulnerable. She was choosing her words so carefully as she added, “Just like you would tell me, not everything is about you.”
“Stop,” I said, putting my hands up. “Like I said. Neither of us is well-rested enough for this conversation. We can talk later.”
“I don’t know that I can rest if we’re fighting,” she muttered, as I started to walk away.
For some reason, pissed as I was, that voice tugged at my heart. I turned back and said, “You and I are always fighting.”
“It’s different this time,” she said.
I sighed. “No, it’s not. This is not something that can be cured with sex and a spanking for us, no. We’re going to have to talk about it. Work it out. But we will.”
“There could be yelling,” she added consideringly.
“I’d say the odds are pretty good there will be yelling,” I said, knowing how both our tempers flared. “There could be tears.”
“I’ll try not to make you cry.”
I almost smiled. She made me crazy, but lord, that quick wit of hers made it impossible to be as angry as maybe I should be. “I’m mad, and I’m going to be mad, and I don’t even… I don’t see our way forward right now. But I know there is one. Okay?”
“Okay,” she said. “After all, both of us are far from perfect. We’re going to make mistakes. Both of us. I’m not going anywhere if you aren’t.”
She was quoting me, from my bedroom above that damned party.
“Look at that,” I said. “You do listen sometimes. It’s a miracle.”
A smile tugged at the corner of her perfect mouth. “I always listen. I just ignore you sometimes.”
“Too soon,” I told her.
She chose to ignore that too, apparently. She asked me, “What else are you doing tonight?”
“I’m going to get some rest before I talk to Clearborn in the morning,” I said. “I need to straighten my head out.”
“What do you think he’ll say?”
I shook my head. I could imagine Clearborn’s disappointment at how I’d mismanaged the team, how they’d shown no faith in me once the situation devolved. The thought crushed me. It would be worse than my own father’s rejection. At least I thought my father was an asshole. I looked up to Clearborn.
“Don’t know,” I lied. “Sleep well, Maddie.”
At least maybe one of us could.
I found Lex in the infirmary, sleeping on one of the chairs next to Chase, who was also asleep, watching over Blake and Skyla. Lex startled awake, feeling my presence, already reaching for his sword.
“It’s just me,” I said, backing away. I’d wanted to talk to him, but I realized then that it would take too long to explain what happened in the Fae world. I’d tell him later. For now he needed rest—especially since he seemed intent on looking after Chase.
“What’s up?” Lex asked, propping his sword in its sheath up in the corner besides his chair again.
“You should get some rest,” I said. “We have to talk to Clearborn tomorrow about the second half of the mission.”
“I know,” he said. “I’ll sleep better in here.”
He didn’t want to leave them alone. Blake and Skyla should be safe here, and yet they should have been safe on academy grounds too.
“Things went badly without you guys,” Lex added.
“Yeah,” I said. “In the Fae world, too. It feels like we’re supposed to be all together.”
I couldn’t imagine not having the team together, and yet I couldn’t imagine how we’d stay together after this, either.
“I’ll feel better if you stay here if we go into the Greyworld,” I said. “I can’t imagine leaving them behind without part of the team.”
“If?” He scrubbed his hand across his face.
“We’ll catch up later,” I said. Lex didn’t need to carry all my worries on top of his concern for Blake and Skyla and Chase.
I sought out Jensen after that.
“What’s up?” he asked me suspiciously when I knocked on his door.
“I could use some advice,” I said.
“You must be really hard-up if you want my advice.” But he stepped back, ushering me into his old room.
I knew he slept in Maddie’s bed every night now, so I wasn’t surprised by how sterile the room was except for his books. Jensen had never really seemed to live anywhere, as if he refused to put down roots, until they all moved into Chase’s house.
“You were there,” I said, “so I figured you might have a valuable perspective.”
That wasn’t the truth, and I didn’t want to be a dick to him just because I was pissed off. I admitted, “And it turns out you’re actually pretty wise. On occasion. When you choose to be.”
He hooked his foot under his desk chair and pulled it out for me, then continued to his dresser. “Do you want some contraband whiskey that you guys never found, now that you’ve graduated?”
“I’ll take some contraband whiskey because it’s been a very long day.”
“It must have.” He fumbled in the drawer, releasing the false back—god, what a dickhead, I almost had to admire that—and pulled out the bottle of whiskey, then two crystal glasses. Leave it to Jensen to have nothing but the good stuff. “I can feel your desire to scold me absolutely radiating from there, and yet...”
“I’m not.”
“Cheer up. Imagine how much whiskey it would’ve taken to get me through dealing with any other cadre than the ones assigned to the misfit patrol.” He poured us both glasses and carried them over, handing me one before he sat on his bed. The two of us drank in silence. “Plus I’m sure I could’ve gotten away with quite a bit more.”
I snorted at that. “You got away with too much.”
He drained his drink, set the glass down by his feet. “What happened out there. It would’ve happened to whoever was leading the patrol. It was a bad situation.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But it happened to me.” I shook my head. “Chase needed us. He needed us right then, with that shield—”
“and none of us knew that.”
“No,” I said. “To Ty and Maddie, it looked like I was making a heartless call.”
“If Skyla hadn’t needed the shield, and if we’d come back—leaving aside whose call that was—do you think that would’ve been the right move? However many lives were lost back in the spring court?”
For a few minutes, we were both quiet. An early summer storm broke, and it beat heavily against the windows of the dorm. Any other time, the sound would have felt peaceful to me.
“No,” I said finally. “There was no right call. But it was mine to make.”
I’d have regrets and second thoughts about that day any way it played out. I couldn’t imagine any positive resolution from that moment in the temple. “My miserable, fucked-any-way-you-move call.”
Jensen poured us both another round. “To miserable calls.”
I clinked my glass with his, although I didn’t know why the hell we’d toast to that.
I hated the thought that it wasn’t the last miserable call I’d ever have to make, that this was part of my job now. But I also couldn’t imagine any other way.
“Did you actually need advice?” Jensen asked. “Or just someone to keep you company while you stewed in a little Maker’s Mark and your feelings?”
“Shh, Jensen. We
pretend we don’t have feelings, remember?”
Jensen smiled faintly. “That never works out.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I admitted. “I don’t know how to do this if they don’t respect me.”
“But they do,” he said. “You know that. We all do.”
It was easy to say that.
“What if that wasn’t a one-off? What if the next time around, when the team needs to work together, they stage a mutiny?” I scrubbed my hand over my face, feeling the scruff that had grown in over the past few hectic days. “Clearborn’s going to ask that question. I would. And I don’t even know what the answer is.”
Jensen shook his head slowly. “I don’t have an answer either.”
I couldn’t imagine that situation ever arising again, but I didn’t want to be naïve. That answer wouldn’t impress Clearborn.
“I should’ve been on your side,” Jensen said after a few minutes.
“You were on my side.”
“If anyone can get Maddie Northsea to do their will, I think it’s me.” Jensen said. “Don’t feel bad. She just needs a certain kind of guy to tame her.”
For a few seconds, I thought he meant it. Then I caught the faint curl of his lip on one side as he gazed down into his whiskey, his broad shoulders hunched.
“You dickhead,” I said. “I almost thought you meant it.”
“You were almost willing to kick my ass, weren’t you?” he asked.
“I’m always willing.” I told him. I set the glass on the desk. “Thanks, McCauley. For the contraband and the conversation.”
I still didn’t have any fucking answers. But I didn’t feel so alone, either.
I tried going to bed, and I slept for a few hours, a deep, intense, dreamless sleep. Then I woke up far too early, at five o’clock in the morning. I groaned as I stared at the clock; the academy had fucked up my internal clock for life.
I thought about heading to the gym and dojo, then decided to go for a run. I was filled with listless energy that I needed to burn off.
I was doing a loop around the quad—I didn’t head into the trail through the woods, wanting to stay close to campus in case something else went wrong—and after a few loops, Clearborn fell in beside me.