Copper Veins (28 page)

I woke just before dawn, my arms and legs still tangled with Micah's on the couch. “Hey,” I whispered, poking his chest for good measure, “let's go to bed before anyone wakes up.”

His response was to blink, bleary-eyed, but that was it. I poked him again, and said, “Bed. Now.”

“Mmm. Bed.” Then Micah leapt to his feet and hoisted me in his arms. “Bed with my wife,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling my neck. I laughed as he climbed the first few steps, forgetting that we were supposed to be quiet, and of course Sadie opened her door just as we crested the stairs.

She stared at us for a moment, brows raised, before her gaze dipped lower and her eyes widened and nearly fell out of her head. Seeing more of Micah than she'd ever intended to, she turned around and slammed her door shut.

“I think he's kinda cute,” I yelled through the door.

“Get a room!” was the shouted reply.

“We intend to,” Micah called. Then we were in our rooms and he kicked the door shut behind him, and that was the last anyone heard from us for a good, long while.

Later that afternoon, I left Micah sleeping in our bed and headed down to the kitchen, intent on locating snacks. I'd planned to pick out a few pieces of fruit or maybe a plate of cookies, ask the silverkin to deliver a tea service to the bedroom, and be back under the blankets with Micah before he realized I was gone. As I approached the kitchen door, I heard Juliana's voice coming from within.

“Max, you have to believe me,” she implored. “I know I promised to never tell Sara, and I didn't. All I did was put the plans on her computer, I swear it.”

I pushed the door open, and saw that Juliana was alone save for a few silverkin sweeping out the hearth. “Practicing an apology?” I asked.

Juliana jumped when she heard my voice, then she
nodded. “Yeah. The first of many.”

“Sit,” I said, indicating the table. “Let's talk. Shep, could you bring us some coffee?” I watched the little guy scurry off, then I asked, “You really put all of that information about Max on my computer?”

“I did,” she murmured. “The schematics, the arrest records, everything.”

“I wish you'd just told me where he was,” I said. “He could have been out of there months sooner.”

Shep arrived with our coffees. Juliana took a sip before she continued. “Max made me swear to never tell you where he was. He knew you'd come after him, and he didn't want you captured. All I could do was try to protect him in the facility.”

“He didn't look very safe when I found him,” I said.

Juliana frowned. “I did everything I could to make Max's life at the Institute easier. I mean, they had figured out pretty early on that he wasn't the Inheritor, and that it had to be you. They just wanted him contained so he wouldn't join the resistance.”

“You thought I was the Inheritor?” I asked, surprised.

“Everyone did. My uncle, the head of the Peacekeepers, everyone.”

“Did
you
?”

She looked at me. “Yeah. I did.”

Huh. That was a discussion for another day. “Why do you let Max call you Jules?”

“Ask your brother,” she mumbled.

“I'm asking you.” She glanced up at that, holding my gaze for a moment before she looked out the window.

“So, what, you're tough now? Big, scary Sara, living in her silver house?” I didn't let her bait me into a fight. Instead, I watched her fidgeting with her hands, her closed posture—she was holding something. No, she was
cradling
something in her palm, as if it were precious.

“What are you holding?” I asked. Juliana sighed before she opened her hand, revealing an iron lily.

Okay, first of all, we suck as jailers. Apparently no one had even searched Juliana, or if they had, they'd left a hunk of metal—a potential weapon—on her. That, coupled with the well-appointed room she'd been given and full access to the manor, made her imprisonment more like a stay at a five-star resort.

Second of all, Max had told me the story of the girl he'd made the lily for.

“They punished me when they found it. When they found
us
,” Juliana whispered. “Me and Max. They…” Her hand closed over the lily, and she turned her face toward the wall. “After that, I couldn't protect him any longer.”

I stared at Juliana—for years, she'd been my best friend. I'd been wondering for months how she'd managed to keep her role as a Peacekeeper hidden, but to conceal the fact that she'd had something with Max made me wonder if she had a split personality.
“What happened after they found you?”

“Real Estate Evaluation Services was created, and I uploaded top-secret information onto your workstation and impatiently waited for you to find it,” she replied. She rested her hands on the table, the lily centered on her open palm.

“That's really pretty,” I said.

“It is,” Juliana agreed.

“Why did they let you keep that?”

“They didn't. After you wrecked the Institute, I broke into the evidence room and took it back.” She turned back to me, eyes wide and shining. “Are you going to tell him I have it?”

“No. And I don't want you to tell him, either.”

Juliana's mouth dropped open, then she ducked her head. “I understand.”

“He's been hurt enough,” I continued. “The last thing he needs is…is you bringing up old memories.” Shep appeared at my side and chirped that he had prepared the snacks and tea for myself and Micah. As I turned to follow the little guy, I said over my shoulder, “Listen, I'm not trying to be mean. I just want to protect Max.”

Juliana mumbled, “That's all I ever wanted.”

Shep and I brought the tea service upstairs, and I managed to rouse Micah long enough for him to
ingest a few cookies and bestow a few nuzzles. He was out again soon, my poor, tired elf, and I lay awake next to him feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. Here I was, snuggled in bed with the love of my life, when I'd pretty much forbidden Juliana from hers.

The lack of fairness got to me, and I slipped out of bed for a second time that day, intent on righting what I'd done. On my way to the kitchens, I crossed paths with Max.

“Shouldn't you be with His Silverness?” Max asked. I ignored his sarcasm, since he might just be as despondent as Juliana. Of course, if I discovered that this was a one-sided romance, I'd resume heckling him at once.

“He's sleeping,” I replied.

“Worn out already?”

“Max, seriously.” I shoved his shoulder. “Do you have to be such a creep?”

“It's what I do.”

We walked together toward the kitchens. I didn't miss how Max's hands trembled, how he slowed his pace once we reached the bottom floor. “So, where are you off to?” I asked.

“I was gonna grab a couple coffees, ask Juliana if she'd like to take a walk out back,” he replied nonchalantly. “Talk about old times, you know.”

We'd reached the kitchens, and I pushed the door open a crack. “Well, you're in luck,” I said. “She's sitting right there at the table.”

In fact, Juliana hadn't moved from where I'd last seen her. Part of me felt guilty—part of me wondered why she was wallowing. Juliana was a doer, not a wallower. Apparently, Max also found her behavior odd.

“What the hell? Do you think Langston was starving her?” he muttered. I took in Juliana's features—her cheekbones were pretty sharp, and the harsh ponytail she'd drawn her hair back in wasn't helping. “And what the hell is she wearing?”

Juliana looked toward the door and Max backed off—clearly, he wasn't ready to be a full-on voyeur. I grabbed his elbow and led him around the sitting room to the pantry, which held an unobtrusive side entrance to the kitchens. Max leaned against the doorframe, staring at Juliana's back.

“What about her clothes?” I prompted.

Max's gaze slid toward me. “That black shirt, the gray hoodie,” he explained. “Juliana loves color. For her to wear gray…” He shook his head.

“You should probably talk to her,” I said, surprising myself nearly as much as Max.

“You gonna stay here and eavesdrop?” he countered.

“Sadie's the eavesdropper, not me.”

“No, Sadie's the tattler.” Max squared his shoulders. “All right, I'm going in.”

Max entered the kitchen, and I leaned on the doorframe to watch. Despite my earlier claim of
innocence, I fully intended to observe everything that happened between the two of them.

Max walked up behind Juliana—he reached out as if to touch her shoulder, but thought the better of it at the last moment. “Hey,” he murmured.

Juliana raised her head, revealing her gaunt cheeks, the dark smudges under her eyes. Maybe Langston really had been starving her. “Hey,” she mumbled.

Max spun a chair around and sat straddling the back. “You been down here long?”

“A little while,” she replied. “Sara was here a little while ago.”

“Yeah, I saw her,” Max said, then he fell silent. After a small eternity, he asked, “Have you had anything to eat?”

She shook her head. “I didn't want to touch anything, mess anything up.”

“Lucky for you I came along,” Max said as he stood. “I am the king of messes.” Max approached the insane medieval cooking area and said over his shoulder, “Besides, the silverkin love to clean. Let's give them something to do, eh?”

Juliana smiled and came to stand beside him. “How do you make food in a fireplace?”

“Seriously, I have no idea.”

Since Max didn't know how to spit a lamb or do whatever else one does over an open fire, he and Juliana ended up making bread. Not only was bread something Max could actually digest, he thought he
was getting pretty good at making it. As for Juliana, she took out her frustrations on the dough as she beat it into submission. There was flour smeared on her nose and dusting her black shirt, the sunlight streaming through the windows making the fine particles glow around her.

When they'd beaten the dough as much as they could, Max scooped it into a bowl and set it aside. “Now, we wait for it to rise,” he declared.

“How long does that take?” Juliana asked.

“Couple hours.”

“We just did all that work, and we don't even get to eat yet?” Juliana swiped at the flour on her nose, but she only succeeded in spreading it onto her cheek. “Not fair, not fair at all.”

“No, it's really not fair.”

Max grabbed a towel and dampened it with a little of the leftover water from making the dough. I thought he was going to clean the counter, but he stepped forward and wiped Juliana's nose, and then her cheek. “Lots of things aren't fair around here.”

Her dark eyes fluttered closed, and she turned toward his hand. “Max.”

“Talk to me, Jules,” Max implored. “Say anything, just talk.”

“I don't think you should call me that,” she said, taking a step back. “It upsets Sara.”

“I'll talk to her,” Max soothed. “Sara was your best friend. She'll understand.”

“No, she won't.” Juliana walked away, but she paused when she reached the door. “She hates me, with good reason. You should hate me, too.”

“Jules—”

“Max, no.”

Then she left, and Max was alone in the kitchen. He stared at the door Juliana had exited through for a moment, then he looked toward the pantry—even though he couldn't see me, he knew I'd heard everything. Max scraped the remaining bits of flour off the counter, then he exited through the same door Juliana had. As for me, I remained where I was for another moment, feeling guilt eat its way through my heart.

I'd just experienced some of the best days of my life.

Micah and I had finally managed to make this marriage thing official, which had been amazing. More than amazing, actually—if I'd thought I could die of pleasure before, now I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt I wouldn't. Though I intended to keep trying.

And we'd found my father, my real father, not a shapeshifter facsimile or any other stupid Peacekeeper trick. After sixteen long years, my family was whole again.

But, and there was always a but, the matter of Juliana remained. I understood that we couldn't just send her back to the Peacekeepers, not now that she
had openly helped us, but I wasn't all that comfortable with her staying at the manor either. It was supposed to be a temporary solution, but we all knew that after helping us she really had no place to go. More than likely, she'd be here for a long time.

Oh, and there was the fact that she was in love with Max, and he with her, though neither of them seemed to be able to act upon it. No, that didn't complicate things at all.

I mean, I understood that Juliana wasn't the great evil I'd thought she was. Her actions had directly led to me finding and rescuing first Max, and then Dad. If her stupid uncle learned of what she'd done, who knew how he'd punish her? She might even end up in that tube Max had once called home. But I just didn't know if I could be her friend again. I wanted to, but I couldn't quite shake the sense of betrayal. I knew why she did what she did, but that didn't mean I had to like it.