I snatched my hand back and cleared my throat. Behind me, Carson banged a spoon on the floor and I startled, giving him a quick look to make sure he was still happy. And hadn’t noticed his mother acting like an idiot.
I gave Tony a tight smile as he sat there, so quiet and still, just watching me. I focused on his bangs, not his face, as I leaned over him.
“Shit!” I dropped the scissors and popped my finger in my mouth, tasting the tang of blood from where I cut myself.
Tony’s eyes darkened further and his eyebrows lowered in concern. “Is it deep?”
I looked. I’d cut my left index finger somehow. Not bad, but it really stung, even after everything else I’d been through today.
“It’s fine,” I said.
Tony took my hand and drew it to him. Suddenly, the pain seemed very far off and I stood motionless as he looked at my finger.
“You’ll be okay. Probably needs a Band-Aid.”
As he let go of my hand, I took a step back. “Right.”
On cue, Carson squawked and I turned to deal with him, grateful for the distraction from the intensity of my reaction to Tony. He’d done nothing to encourage me, but I couldn’t seem to shake off the mad attraction I felt.
Carson managed to scatter the plastic containers across the tile floor out of his grasp, so I collected them all again for his drumming practice. By the time I finished, Tony found a Band-Aid in the bathroom. He handed it to me and I fumbled it on, happy he hadn’t taken my hand again to perform the first aid. I could do this myself.
“Okay.” I took a deep breath and let it out. “Almost finished, just need to shape up your bangs.”
I snipped more carefully this time. After a few more cuts here and there to clean things up, I declared myself done.
“That’s the best this amateur hairdresser can do, anyway,” I said.
“Looks good—and it’s out of my way, which is even more important. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Actually, I agreed with him. His hair looked quite good, especially considering my level of skill. The wave in his hair gave a nice shape against his neck and the layers I’d cut looked more artfully disarranged than inexpertly styled. Tony’s eyes stood out even more with the shorter style—as if attention really needed to be drawn to them, with their arresting color. His jawline looked stronger, too.
His nose was a shade too long, I reminded myself. Plus, he was a Were. And not interested in me. He was probably embarrassed by me making such a fool of myself. God, I hoped I wasn’t making a fool of myself.
Carson banged on the floor again, having lost his plastic containers under the kitchen table.
I ran fingers through my own hair and pushed it behind my ears, thrusting away the sensory memory of Tony’s hair against my hands.
My cell phone rang and I crossed to it, eager for the distraction. As I pulled it out of my bag, I hoped it wasn’t Tim. I wanted to hear how Sheila was, of course, but I didn’t want to put Tim in the same position as Eliza—didn’t want him to have to choose between me and the Were status-quo, between his love for Sheila and his allegiance to the council.
“It’s Newt,” I said and eagerly answered the phone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
“Julie?”
Not Newt. Eliza.
“Eliza? What are you doing with Newt’s phone? What do you want?” My back stiffened and Tony jumped to his feet, standing behind me.
“Listen, Julie, I know you’re upset with me and you don’t understand. But Newt’s hurt, he’s really hurt, and he’s asking for you.” Eliza’s voice sounded odd.
“What do you mean? What happened?” My heart raced and I reached out to hold onto the wall for support.
“The Eclipsers set a trap and he walked right into it—well, we all did—”
“Eliza! What happened?”
She was wrong. She had to be. Newt couldn’t be hurt by fire. I’d seen his strength, the casual way he’d fought all the Eclipsers, the way he shrugged off even the flesh-searing flames.
“They rigged a bunch of explosives. When we came after them, they lured us there.” Eliza paused as if to give me time to say something, but I found nothing but silence. Her words came slowly, awkward to my ear as if she felt uncomfortable talking to me. “They called flames and set off the explosions. They killed two Weres and one of the other Salamanders on our side. Lots of injuries. Newt—he’s the worst. He figured it out, right before the explosives went off, and rushed toward the nearest cluster of bombs—says he was going to throw it down the ravine before it exploded.”
I closed my eyes, envisioning the scene all too well: Newt running toward the danger, trying to save everyone else.
Tony moved as if to take the phone from me, but I snatched it closer and scowled at him. He could use his Were senses to hear the conversation. I couldn’t.
“How is he hurt?”
I heard the grimace in Eliza’s voice. “Broken ribs and collarbone. His left arm is shattered. He’s in surgery now. Uh, one of his lungs was punctured.”
“Is he…burned?” Newt’s freckled skin, scorched black and peeling.
“No. Somehow, he absorbed the heat. Just not the force and shrapnel.”
I rubbed my forehead, hard. “Right. Well. That’s good, I guess. You’re hurt, too?” I probed cautiously, not clear of this new balance, now that our friendship was so fragile, our alliances broken.
“I’m fine.” Eliza’s voice revealed no emotion. “Newt asked for you. We’re at the hospital.”
I looked at Tony, who spread his hands to indicate it was my call.
Eliza said, “If you want to come, James promised he won’t take Carson while you’re at the hospital.”
“Hold on.” I covered the phone, then realized she’d hear me anyway and further realized I didn’t give a damn. “Tony, can we trust them?”
Did I trust her? How was it possible that within the space of a few days, I twice faced that question about one of my best friends?
He weighed his words carefully. “If you were a Were, I’d say absolutely. They wouldn’t break their word to you. Since you’re a human, I’m not convinced James will view his word as binding.”
“Dammit, let me talk to Tony,” Eliza snapped.
“No. If you have something to say, say it to me.”
Tony’s eyebrows rose, but he stayed quiet.
“Julie. Do you really think the council wants to destroy our strongest Were?” Her words held passion, but something about her tone rang flat.
“He’s not your Were.”
“That’s not what I meant! Do you think we want to hurt Carson?”
“I don’t know, Eliza. A week ago, I would have laughed at anyone who suggested it. But now, I just don’t know.”
“Julie—”
“Controlling him is as bad as hurting him, Eliza. He’s not some tool for the council to use.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Really? Then what is it like?”
Eliza let out an angry breath. “You’re not even open to understanding what’s at stake.”
“My son is at stake. Carson’s at stake. His whole future. Everything he might be, if the council will just let him grow into someone with…with humanity.” Goosebumps erupted on my arms as I said the words; I meant them that strongly.
I looked down at my little boy on the kitchen floor, perfect in every way. He breathed as if his lungs had never been filled with smoke and smiled slightly, as if wrapped in sweet thoughts that contained no danger. I loved him beyond all reason. I would do anything to protect him, to make sure he became the person I knew he could be.
“We all want what’s best for Carson, Julie.”
“You don’t get to decide what’s best for him.” I knew she heard the anger in my voice and I didn’t care. Dammit, I wanted her to understand.
“Right. Well, then I’m not sure what else to say.”
“Me neither.” There was a long pause.
I gripped the phone hard. “Tell Newt…tell Newt I’m thinking of him. To call if he wants to. That I wish…”
God, did I wish.
“Sure, Julie. I’ll tell him.” The cordiality in Eliza’s tone felt like a blow. “Bye, now.”
The connection dropped.
****
I knew when Tony came back in the room, before he said a word. He’d been ranging around the property to become familiar with the land, just in case. I stopped rubbing my eyes, gritty from fatigue and recent tears, and sat up on the couch.
“Are you all right?”
“Yes, I’m fine.” I looked at Tony as he sat down next to me, but quickly glanced away again.
“Carson?”
“He’s sleeping. He’s fine. I don’t know. Maybe I should trust the council to know what’s right.” My voice caught slightly on the sentence.
“No.” Tony’s gaze fixed on me. “Too much risk.”
I searched Tony’s face as if he might have the answer: his cheekbones a strong frame, his mouth set in a gentle line. His amber eyes looked like his wolf, almost back-lit. A faint smudge of soot stood out on his forehead; I’d noticed it earlier when I cut his hair.
“Do you know I’m a librarian?” I said abruptly.
“What?”
“I’m a librarian. That’s what I do. Master’s in Library Science. I work at one of the county branch libraries in Jacksonville.”
Tony looked puzzled.
“A librarian.” I shook my head slightly and looked away. “I killed two people today. I killed another in Las Vegas a few months ago. A mafia guy who shot Tim and intended to finish him off. I shot him first, though, right in the head. I shot that Salamander today, too, but Mike Hollis—I—did you see what I did to him?”
At first, I thought Tony wouldn’t respond. He kept glancing at me and I couldn’t tell if he was uncomfortable or if he thought I was an idiot.
Just as I was about to make some silly joke to downplay my comments, Tony cleared his throat.
“I haven’t killed a lot of people either, though you may think we Weres are a bloodthirsty lot. But”—his voice suddenly dropped in volume while gaining intensity, causing me lean closer—“I don’t have a problem killing when it’s necessary.”
“Necessary,” I repeated.
I sat there thinking for a moment. The day’s events had been so momentous I couldn’t wrap my mind around them.
“Now I’m fighting the Eclipsers and the council. No matter how this turns out, you’re in big trouble. Why are you on our side, anyway?” I said.
Tony shrugged, a fluid motion that reminded me of Newt. God. Newt. “I’ve lived without the council for five years. I suppose I’m out of the habit of blind obedience.”
I looked at him, sitting close enough to touch. My fingers tingled.
No.
I was not going to—
I—
Was I—
I leaned over and kissed him. A soft kiss that turned passionate, as Tony’s arms wrapped around me. We kissed with a mounting fervor that sent heat through my body and led me to gasp against him. I felt his breath catch in his throat, smelled musk and ash on his skin.
The next moment, he pushed me away. He sprang up, stared at me with wild eyes, and moved in a blur to the front door. He wrenched it open, and with nary a backward glance, sprang into wolf form and disappeared into the darkness.
Oh, shit.
I scrunched down into the couch. My breathing was rapid, almost spasmodic, and I couldn’t tell if I wanted to scream or cry. My muscles tensed painfully and I ached all over in some strong emotion I didn’t have words to name.
Shit, shit, shit.
I waited in the living room for a long time, but he didn’t come back. I didn’t know what I’d say to him, anyway. Finally, I made my way upstairs and let myself fall into sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I bolted upright in bed and panted for several minutes while my brain sorted itself.
“Tony,” I yelled.
“What is it?” His dark form materialized in the doorway. I knew he’d be in the hall, just as he said earlier before—well, I wasn’t going to think about before. I was done thinking about that.
“A-S-H. Ashland Springs Hotel. They’re going to burn down Ashland Springs Hotel. That’s what the text meant, the one on Mike Hollis’s phone.”
“Where’s your cell? We need to call Eliza, get the Special Ops on it.”
“Uh, in the pocket of my jean jacket, I think. Hollis’s phone is there, too, if we need to check it again.” I got out of bed and felt very naked in the t-shirt I’d been sleeping in. I’d neglected to pack pajamas with the other things I grabbed from Sheila’s house. I wore a long shirt, though, and it didn’t matter. He wasn’t interested and I would not waste any more time on stupid fantasies.
He canted away from me as I crossed the room. I blinked hard as tears flooded my eyes from rejection or embarrassment—I wasn’t sure which and I couldn’t spend time on it because more serious things were at stake.
I paused to pull on my jeans before grabbing the phone.
Eliza picked up on the first ring. “Hello? Julie?” Her voice came across frantic.
“We’re fine. The Eclipsers are going to burn down Ashland Springs Hotel. It’s the big one on Siskiyou Avenue, right downtown—that tall one with the colonial British feel that looks like it should be in an old movie. That’s what the A-S-H meant in the text. Ashland Springs Hotel.” I looked at the clock. “In ninety minutes, they’re going to burn it down. Seven a.m.”
“Okay. Okay. Ashland Springs Hotel. Got it. Let me tell James.”
“Wait. How’s Newt?”
Eliza didn’t answer.
“Eliza! How is Newt?”
“Not good. He’s in a lot of pain. He has another surgery scheduled for today. He keeps asking for you,” she finally said. “I have to go tell them about the hotel.”
“Right.” The connection cut before I even said the word.
I crossed my arms across my chest to hug myself after I slipped the phone back in my pocket. One of my hands slipped up to my neck and I winced as I touched the still-sore bruises. Time for more painkillers.
“Did you catch all of that?” I asked Tony. I didn’t need to look at him to know he stood in the doorway. I hoped my painful awareness of him faded quickly now that I knew he wasn’t interested.
“Yes.”
I looked back at Carson, still asleep sprawled on the bed.
“I hate this. I hate not helping. I hate not being there for Newt. I don’t want the council to fight my fight. Especially when I made it quite clear I don’t want their help protecting and raising Carson.”
Tony considered for a moment. “A rogue group of Salamanders like this threatens everyone,” he said. “They’re not just fighting for Carson. And there’s nothing you can do to help Newt, you know. He’s getting medical care. I’m sure he understands why you’re not there.”
“Eliza says he keeps asking for me.”
Tony didn’t say anything.
“I know, I know. He’ll be okay.” I stopped myself from fidgeting with my hair. “I also know I can’t run and join this fight—or go to the hospital—if I want to keep Carson safe.”
I looked at the clock again.
“I guess I’ll go make coffee. I’m not going to get back to sleep.”
“You should. You need the rest.”
I bit back my first angry reply and retreated to polite formality. “I’ll be fine, thank you.”
As I pushed past him in the doorway, Tony reached out to touch my arm. I flinched.
“Julie.”
Oh God, I did not want to have this talk. No, no, no.
“You’re doing the right thing, you know.”
“What?”
“You want Carson to grow up as a person, not a tool of the council, not a Were-shaped weapon, not an arrogant bastard who thinks he’s better than everyone else because he’s so full
of power.”
I glanced back at my baby. “Yes.”
Tony gestured with one hand and I nodded, preceding him down the stairs and into the kitchen. He settled at the kitchen table, in the same chair where I cut his hair. I shook the memory out of my head and busied myself by finding the coffee supplies. Thankfully, Don Sosa had some decent beans in the freezer—if he’d been anti-coffee, I might have had to go out and purchase some regardless of the risk.
Picking up the thread of the conversation, Tony said, “Look at what happened to my family.”
I glanced at him, unsure where this headed.
“My mother loved a…a human her whole life. Not my father.” Tony’s voice sounded flat, revealing no emotion. I didn’t know how to respond, so I kept quiet and filled the coffeemaker with water while he talked.
“She didn’t marry him, though. Peter. His name was Peter Ramirez. She couldn’t face the pack, what they’d say and think if she chose to mate with a non-Were. So she married my dad, who’d been crazy about her since they were in middle school.”
I already knew how this story ended, but I waited.
“When my father found out she’d been seeing Peter for many years, for the entire length of their marriage, he lost it. My sister Rebecca is Peter’s child. She’s four years younger than me, six years older than Dave…was. She’s a dark moon wolf and when she reached eighteen without changing, the whole marriage fell like a house made of straw. You probably know what happened.”
I nodded, but he continued anyway. “My father murdered Peter Ramirez in a fit of rage—about more than my mom having an affair. Because she chose Peter, a human, over him, rejecting everything about pack life. That’s how my father saw it. My mother killed herself. I—I found her.” His voice caught and I clenched my hands into fists so I didn’t reach out to him. He would have been twenty-three at the time, five years ago. Werewolves didn’t die easily; I could only imagine what he found. “I was with her when my dad came home and saw…then he tore away. Drove off a cliff.”
The kitchen counter pressed into my back so hard it hurt, but I relished the focus, needed to feel anything besides the emotion evoked by what I saw on Tony’s face.
Waxing Moon Page 21