Saving Jace

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Saving Jace Page 4

by Rebecca Rivard


  But the clan had been in the midst of the Darktime, the bloody internal war that had come to a head in his late teens. He’d been too busy surviving to even think of going to college.

  “Yeah. I just started back, but I’m going to be an LPN.” She slanted him a grin. “I just thought of something—you’re my first patient. You can’t die on me. That would be too effing wrong.”

  He stared, entranced, at the dimple that winked to life in her right cheek. Just as quickly, it was gone. He wanted to keep watching her, but his eyelids drooped.

  Outside, rain was falling again, a soothing patter against the windows.

  “I’ll do my best,” he muttered and slid into sleep.

  Evie glanced at the sleeping shifter. His color looked a little better now, and he seemed to be breathing normally.

  Relieved, she turned her attention back to her paper. When you worked two jobs and went to school, you learned to focus whenever you could snatch the time. In fifteen minutes, she had the first couple pages written.

  Kyler returned to report that he’d washed down the whole area behind the house, even the alley as far as the hose could reach. “Of course, Mrs. Linney came outside and asked what I was doing washing the steps in the rain.” He flopped down on the floor and took a gulp from a can of soda.

  Evie shut her laptop. “You didn’t tell her—”

  “Yeah, right.” Kyler gave her the kind of look only a teenager could give. “She’d broadcast it to the entire frigging block. I told her I spilled my soda and you’d be pissed off if I left it until morning. Ants, you know. And then it started raining harder again, so I probably didn’t need to bother.”

  Evie gave him a thumbs-up. “Quick thinking, squirt.”

  “I hate it when you call me that,” he grumbled, but she could tell he was pleased at the compliment.

  Jace muttered something and both their gazes shot to him. He sighed and moved his head against the pillow before curling up on his right side.

  Kyler lowered his voice. “What are we going to do with him?”

  “Hell if I know. He says he’ll leave in the morning.”

  “Good. The dude’s trouble. I mean, what the fuck do the night fae want with him?”

  “Who knows? But it doesn’t matter. Tomorrow he’ll go back to Baltimore or wherever he came from, and we can forget he was ever here.” Her heart pinched at that, which was crazy. Shifters didn’t mix with humans, except for the occasional hookup—and hookups weren’t her thing.

  Kyler glanced at the curled-up fada. “Wonder what his animal is?”

  “A cat.”

  “He told you?”

  “No.” But she’d bet a night’s worth of tips she was right. “Look at how he moves. And his body—that’s a cat’s body if I ever saw one.”

  Kyler glanced at Jace’s long, powerful body and shrugged. “If you say so.” He took another slug of soda. “It’s kind of cool having a shifter in the house—especially a Baltimore shifter. I’ve never seen one up close before.”

  “Me either. I wonder why he was in Grace Harbor?”

  They contemplated the sleeping man for another minute, and then Kyler finished his soda and rose to his feet.

  “Are you going out?”

  “I was thinking about it, yeah.” He paced to the front windows and twitched aside a curtain to peer out at the dark street.

  Evie took a moment to choose her words. Kyler was so easy to set off these days.

  “Do you think you should? That night fae could still be out there.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Why would he care about me? But I guess I should stay here in case he comes back. I don’t want you here by yourself.”

  Evie blinked. Was this the brother who just that morning had growled that Evie wasn’t his frickin’ mom and he didn’t have to answer to her if he didn’t want to? But all she said was, “Thanks.”

  Kyler returned to her side of the living room. He sat down with his back against a wall, phone in hand.

  She frowned. “You’re not going to tell anyone about Jace, are you?”

  “No, Evie,” he said with exaggerated patience. “I’m just letting Ben and the other guys know what’s up.” Ben lived three doors down from them and was Kyler’s best friend. He sent a flurry of texts, and then settled into play one of his online games.

  Evie glanced again at Jace. He looked okay, so she went back to her paper. By eleven o’clock she had a rough draft done. She shut the laptop and rubbed her forehead.

  Kyler had gone to the kitchen to make popcorn. He returned with two large bowls and handed her one.

  She accepted it with a grateful smile. “Thanks. All I had time for tonight was a sandwich.”

  “Thought you might be hungry.” Her brother popped a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “I’m going upstairs,” he said as he crunched his way through it. “Shout if you need me—or if you want me to sit with him.”

  “I will. And Kyler?” He halted in the doorway to look over his shoulder. “Thank you. For helping tonight, and for staying in with me.”

  His narrow face split in a grin. “Hey, it was an adventure. I only wish I could tell Ben. But don’t worry, I won’t.”

  “I think that’s best. Maybe in a few weeks, but for now, we’d better keep this between us and him.” She jerked her head at the sleeping man.

  With Kyler in his bedroom, she went upstairs to brush her teeth and grab a sheet and pillow from the hall closet. She told her brother not to stay up too late and then went back downstairs, where she shut off all the lights except the one in the hall and curled up again on the easy chair.

  She had fallen into a light doze when something made her open her eyes. Jace was staring at her, his irises glowing that odd feral-green again. Her skin prickled. She glanced around the room for a weapon.

  Then his breath sighed out and she reminded herself he couldn’t hurt anyone right now.

  She rose to her feet. “You okay? Would you like some water?”

  “Yeah.” He swiped his tongue over his lips. “I’m so damn thirsty. And I need to take a piss.”

  “Water first.” She hurried into the kitchen and returned with a large glass, which he drained in a couple of gulps and then handed back to her.

  “Can you walk?” She glanced at him doubtfully as she set the glass on the coffee table. “I can get Kyler. He’s upstairs.”

  He eased his legs over the side of the couch. “I can do it.” He set his feet on the floor and used the coffee table to push himself to standing.

  He only took a couple of steps before he winced and grasped his belly. “I could use some help here,” he said ruefully.

  She was already moving the coffee table out of the way. “Put your arm on my shoulders,” she said as she slid an arm around his waist.

  Together, they shuffled into the hall and turned right toward the bathroom. Fortunately, it was only a few steps further. Evie flipped on the light and helped him inside.

  Jace gripped the sink and dragged in a breath, head down. He was flushed, his temples beaded with sweat.

  She bit her lip. “Will you—I mean, do you need any help?”

  “I’m okay,” he muttered.

  “Okay, good.” She backed toward the door. “I’ll be in the hall if you need me.”

  “I won’t. But thanks.”

  She shut the door and walked a few feet down the hall to wait. The toilet flushed and then she heard water running, followed by a long silence.

  She rapped on the bathroom door. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah.” The door opened and he limped out. “Just moving a little slow.”

  He’d washed the sweat from his face, but what made her blink was that he’d taken his shirt off. Her gaze went to a hard chest covered by wiry black hair, and then she jerked it back to his face.

  The look he gave her made her cheeks heat. The man might be injured, but that considering expression told her he was recovering fast. They stared at each other. A h
eartbeat passed, then another, and then he indicated the shirt balled in his hand.

  “It was bloody. Where do you want it?”

  She swallowed. “Just drop it next to the sink and I’ll take care of it.”

  He nodded and tossed it into the bathroom.

  She hesitated and then reminded herself she was a nurse. Well, almost, anyway. “I’ll help you back to the couch,” she said in her most professional voice and slid an arm around his back.

  He shook his head. “You don’t look strong enough to hold up a kitten,” he said, but let her take some of his weight.

  Jesus, the man was all muscle. Beneath her hand, his waist was taut, the skin hot from his fever. She tried not to notice how good he smelled—warm, sweaty male.

  Down, girl.

  Sure, the man was sexy in a dark, dangerous way, but he was hurt, for God’s sake. And even if he wasn’t, he was a fada—and a Baltimore earth fada at that. Everyone knew they were a murderous clan. She was surprised any of them were still left alive.

  The last thing she wanted was to have anything to do with a Baltimore shifter.

  No, she’d make sure Mr. Jace No-Last-Name left as soon as he was able, and then pray she never saw him again.

  Back in the living room, Jace sank down on the couch. He closed his eyes and bent forward at the waist, his breath ragged. It was clear he was hurting.

  Evie turned on the lamp next to the easy chair. “You’re hot. I’ll turn up the air conditioner.” With that done, she shoved her hands into her back pockets, feeling helpless. “Are you hungry? I can make you some chicken soup. Or—”

  “I don’t think I can eat anything right now,” he said without opening his eyes.

  “Yeah, right.” She flushed, recalling he’d taken a knife in the belly. “Maybe something that digests easily? I have popsicles.” Her mom had given them popsicles whenever she or Kyler were sick.

  “A popsicle.” His hard mouth edged up. “Okay, sure.”

  “Be right back.” She hurried to the kitchen and returned with an orange popsicle. It would put more liquids in him, and maybe the sugar would give him some extra energy.

  While he ate the popsicle, she rinsed his T-shirt out in the bathroom sink and hung it up to dry before getting a popsicle for herself. When she came back, he was reclined on the couch, still sucking the popsicle. A cat’s paw was tattooed in black and gold on his upper left arm. He saw her looking and his face shuttered, so she didn’t ask, just curled up on the easy chair again.

  The cuts on his abdomen were still an angry red, but they were starting to close. “I think you’re healing,” she said.

  He nodded. “It’s going to be a rough night, but this helps.” He indicated the popsicle. “Feels like my fucking belly’s on fire.”

  “I wish I could do more.”

  “You did good. I just need to rest now, give it time to heal.”

  She wrapped her arms around her legs. “What happened, anyway?”

  “Some bastard night fae stuck a knife in me.”

  “The one that was outside?”

  “No. The guy who stabbed me is dead.”

  She gulped. “Oh.”

  He regarded her from beneath thick lashes, as if expecting her to cringe from him. But she knew that sometimes, you don’t have a choice.

  Jace’s eyes closed. Silence fell while they sucked on their popsicles.

  “Iron,” she said. “It was an iron knife? That’s why you’re feverish?”

  He nodded. “You know what iron does to a fae?”

  “Sure.” Everyone knew that iron was a fae’s Achilles’ heel. They couldn’t even stand it against their bare skin. “It’s like poison for them. But you’re a fada, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah. But we have some fae in us. Iron doesn’t affect the fada as bad, but it’s still poison to us. And the knife was probably cold-forged—formed into a blade at room temperature. That makes a difference.”

  “Salt neutralizes the iron?”

  “Yeah, but don’t ask me how. It just does.”

  She opened her mouth to ask why the night fae had stabbed him, and then closed it again. It was better she didn’t know.

  “That’s right,” he said, seemingly reading her mind. “The less you know, the better.” He slid down on the couch until he was prone again. “I’ll be all right, now. You can go to bed.”

  She shook her head. “I’m staying right here in case you need me.”

  His brow lifted—and then he smiled. A quick but real smile that lit an answering warmth inside her. “You don’t have to,” he said, “but thanks.” And with that, he curled up on his right side, closed his eyes and fell back asleep.

  She finished her popsicle, and then set a pitcher of ice water on the coffee table within easy reach of her patient before curling up on the chair again.

  She was too wide awake now to sleep, so she took out her phone and checked her messages, and then downloaded a book to read, but her gaze kept flicking to Jace. He was a beautiful man: big shoulders, six-pack abs and long, strong legs. And inked—besides the cat’s paw, an intricately rendered tat of a snarling black jungle cat stretched across most of his upper back.

  Kyler came downstairs in a pair of gym shorts and she jerked her gaze back to her phone.

  “You sure you’re all right?” he asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  He yawned and scratched his stomach. “Okay, but holler if you need me. I’m all grown up—you need me, you call for me.”

  He frowned down on her, and for a second, she was reminded of his father, even though Aaron had been shorter and square-faced, while Kyler had a narrow, sharp-boned face. But those dark eyes and the frown were all Aaron, who had been just the same when it came to protecting his family.

  “I will.” She crossed her heart. “Promise.”

  “G’night, then.” Kyler gave another big yawn and went upstairs to bed.

  Evie shut off the light and snuggled up on the chair again.

  Kyler had made her proud tonight. All spring, he’d argued with her about every little decision. Some nights he’d slammed out of the house and then not come home until after midnight. She didn’t know what she was going to do with him when school let out next week. He’d tried to find a job, but so far, no luck.

  But tonight, he’d really come through. His dad would’ve been pleased. She smiled. She’d have to remember to tell Kyler that in the morning.

  She glanced at her sleeping guest one last time. His face had gone slack, his lashes dark crescents against his cheeks. Curled up on the couch like that, it was hard to believe he was as dangerous as people said.

  Her eyes drifted closed and she fell asleep.

  Two hours later she jerked awake to see Jace thrashing about on the couch.

  “No,” he muttered. “Mary—” He bolted upright.

  She fumbled for the switch on the lamp next to the chair. It came on and he hissed, an angry cat-sound.

  She narrowed her eyes against the sudden light, trying to see him. “Jace? You all right?”

  He ignored her to chug water from the pitcher she’d left on the table and then fumbled with the zipper of his pants.

  She rose to her feet. “Jace? What are you doing?”

  His gaze swung to her and she took a step back. His eyes were that strange bright green again. His growl raised fine hairs all over her body.

  “Okay.” She raised a palm. “Take it easy.”

  He snarled and dragged off the pants. Bright bits of color danced over his skin—and then a huge black panther was crouched on her couch.

  5

  Jace was hot. So effing hot.

  He groaned and thrashed on the couch. His belly was burning. But the heat seemed to have spread everywhere.

  He turned onto his side and then onto his back again.

  “No…Merry—”

  He dragged a hand over his face—and was thrown back seven years into his worst nightmare. Adric had finally tracked Merry and Silver
to their latest address. It had been over a year since Jace had last seen any of Takira’s family. His sister had turned up dead, and Merry’s fifth birthday had come and gone while she was on the run with Silver.

  The call from Adric came just after midnight. Jace rushed to the site—only to find a burned-out house. The bitter scent of ashes and death filled the air.

  Adric had been waiting in the shadows. His throat worked. “I’m sorry, bro.”

  Jace had backed away, shaking his head. “No. No. There must be some mistake.”

  “No mistake. I tracked them both here.” Adric’s eyes were bronze holes in his face. “It burned down last night. The neighbors said no one got out alive.”

  “Leron,” Jace had rasped. “I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking tear him to pieces.” He’d turned to stride off, but Adric’s hand clamped on his arm.

  Jace tried to shake him off. “Let. Me. Go.”

  “No. I won’t stand by and watch you commit suicide.”

  Jace’s mouth had twisted. “What the fuck do I have to live for?”

  His friend blew out a breath. “I can’t answer that for you, but I do know I need your help to take Leron down. And we will. We’re close, Jace. But if you go after him now, you could blow it all to hell.”

  “You ask too damn much.”

  “I know,” his friend returned quietly. “But it’s not for me. It’s for the clan.”

  Jace had stared at the house’s charred remains, the desire for revenge raging through his veins. He’d fisted his hands, dropped back his head and roared his fury at the moon. The local dogs had joined in, an eerie, mournful howl.

  When he’d turned back to Adric, he knew his eyes blazed a feral green. “Fine,” he bit out. “But promise me he’ll die. No mercy.”

  “No mercy,” Adric had agreed.

  Now Jace writhed on the couch, his soul as dark and bitter as that burned shell of a house that he’d believed had contained his niece’s remains.

  An unfamiliar scent recalled him to the present—a female. It’s only a dream.

  With an effort, he forced his eyes open and looked wildly around until he recalled he was in some human’s home in Grace Harbor.

  Evie. He grabbed onto her name like a drowning man would a life preserver.

 

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