Jace (7 page)

And then Jace had announced he was leaving, as if it were nothing, taking her joy, leaving her with pain. Right up until the moment he’d walked out the door to go on his mission, she hadn’t truly believed he’d do it. True mates didn’t separate—but he had. And her pain had begun. Pain worse than what now consumed her, because illusion died hard, and when it was gone there was no avoiding reality. She loved more than she was loved and nothing could close that inequality.

And yet today, the man she thought didn’t care for her the way she cared about him had faced the sun for her. For duty? For love? For something else? Miri grazed her fingers over Jace’s, skimming the edge of the burned flesh. It was no small thing. Burns were the worst thing for a vampire. The only thing that didn’t heal at their normally rapid pace. Which was why all vampires feared them. “You must be in so much pain.”

“Will pity for my suffering soften a bit of that anger you’re feeling toward me?”

Yes. No.
She shrugged. “Probably.”

“You don’t sound too happy about it.”

“I told you, I’m working on not being so nice.”

With a flex of muscle, he cradled her closer. “I told you before, I like you nice.”

“Everybody likes me nice because that gets them what they want. The only catch with that is everybody but me is happy and when things go wrong, I’m the one who suffers.”

The glow in his eyes deepened. “I didn’t mean to make you suffer.”

“I know.” She understood that now. “The misunderstanding was my fault for taking up with a man who’s not pack.”

“How the hell would taking up with pack have been any better for you?”

She let go of his hand. He didn’t let go of hers. It didn’t matter. His holding on now wouldn’t mitigate the differences between them. There was no returning to innocence lost. “Weres don’t leave.”

WERES
don’t leave.

Three words said with such acceptance and the grief of one who mourned a death. Three words that marked the differences in their philosophies. Three words that emphasized the cultural chasm between them. It wasn’t that he was vampire that upset Miri. It wasn’t that her pack would ostracize her for marrying him, which, alone, would cripple most wolves. What had shaken Miri to the core was not that he had left her, but that he could. One security a wolf always had was a pack to come back to and a mate always at his or her side. Wolves lived to find their mates. Sometimes lived hundreds of years before they did. Once they found them, according to the wolf lore Derek had shared with him, they would never know loneliness again. A mate was the other half of a soul. An inseparable other half. He remembered how he’d kissed Miri and smiled that day before he’d left. He’d been looking at her, thinking how beautiful she was and how wonderful it would be to come back and find her waiting. Derek had been quite explicit in that tidbit of were mating when Jace had thought to ask, after Miri’s disappearance.

Once bonded, werewolves could not conceive of separating from their mates, and they suffered physically if they did. Miri had grown up secure in the belief that once bonded with her mate, he could never leave her. But she’d bonded with him, and he’d left her as easily as he would have any human woman, comfortable with the parting because he’d known he would return. He touched his finger to one of the white lines of strain bracketing the sides of her mouth, eyeing the drop of blood on her lower lip. The smile he’d meant to be shared must have seemed so cavalier to her, mocking even.

“My leaving really shook you up, didn’t it?”

Her gaze ducked his and her lips pressed together, flattening the drop of blood. She was embarrassed about how she’d been back then. “That was my fault. I was naive and I didn’t think.”

Neither had he, too caught up in the passion and miracle of finding the woman who fit him. He’d just wanted to clear everything out of his way so he could be with her. In his rush he’d just managed to trample all over her giving nature and make her ashamed. “And I didn’t know.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, it does.”

He wiped the smear of blood from her lip, remembering the unique taste of their blood together, thinking of his child out there somewhere, her only protection being that, supposedly, no one knew who she was. The fragility of Faith’s safety drove him crazy. She should be at the Circle J, protected by her family, surrounded by love. Not out there somewhere facing Lord knew what. Miri shifted against him. A long hank of hair fell over her face. Jace smoothed it back, using the pressure of his hand to keep her cheek against his chest, holding her to his warmth. “I never thought to ask if matings were different for weres.”

“Whereas I’ve lived my life knowing the fickleness of vampires.”

Of that he had no doubt. The other thing he’d learned from Derek was the deep-seated prejudice most weres felt toward their companions in immortality. One of those prejudices was the ludicrous belief that vampires couldn’t be faithful. “I guess, to you, it looked like I fell right into the stereotype.”

“You left.”

She kept holding that fact out like a talisman.

“I won’t leave you again.”

“Yes, you will.” Her hand opened over his chest as the pain left. “You won’t be able to help it.”

Her gaze didn’t waver from his, the deep brown of her eyes near black in his night vision, devoid of the softness he was used to seeing there. A shiver shook her. Damn, she was getting cold. No matter what he did, her body temperature kept dropping. “We can fight about the semantics of that statement later.”

“When it’s dark?”

He forced a smile. “That’d be preferable to now.”

She blinked once, twice, making him think his smile came across more real than it felt. Then she shook her head. “Are you ever serious?”

“Yes.” The scars on her cheeks drew his eyes; bright slashes against her skin, glowing in a ghostly reminder of what she’d been through. “And always about you.”

Her response died an ignoble death as another wave of pain swept over her. He quickly siphoned it off, gritting his teeth as it immediately felt like a gallon of acid poured into his gut.

It was almost too much for him to bear, and he was a big man used to being hurt. He didn’t know how Miri withstood it. She felt so fragile to him. Her bones much finer, wonderfully feminine. How the hell was she supposed to endure this? He rubbed his chin against her cheek.

Leaning his head back against the rotted trunk of the tree they were hiding within, he said, “Tell me more about our daughter. Please.”

Her talons nipped his wrist. “Why?”

“Because we could both use the distraction.”

He had to wait through three steady breaths. Memories flashed in her mind just out of his reach, flitting, teasing touches of emotion. Wonder, stress, agony, hope, and then absolute despair. He changed his mind as that last skimmed his consciousness. Maybe he wasn’t ready for this.

“She was so tiny,” Miri began in a soft voice, as if she, too, was afraid of what would happen if the memory was made real. “Premature, because we had to do a C-section in order to sneak her out, but her lungs were good.” Her talons sank deeper. “She screamed when they took her away.”

“Jesus.”

He knew for sure he didn’t want to hear this now, but he had to. This was the kind of pain a mate shared. “Who took her away?”

“The tech.”

“Which tech?”

“The one working for the Renegades.”

As far as he knew, they didn’t have any Renegades that deep in the Sanctuary structure. Shit. “Why?”

“I had to get her out before they could get her blood, before they could experiment.” Her head ducked lower and she held herself perfectly still. “It was my only choice.”

It dawned on him that she was braced for criticism. Because she’d risked everything for their daughter. She had done what he hadn’t been there to do—gotten their daughter to safety. With his finger under her chin, he lifted her face back to his. His mate was a very strong woman. “You did what you had to. That took guts.”

She licked her lips. “Thank you.”

No moisture remained in the wake of the gesture. Damn, she was dehydrating. “Where is Faith now?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

He took a slow breath, dread hollowing out a hole in the layers of agony consuming his strength. Or was it her strength, or maybe theirs? His, hers, he was beginning to understand it didn’t matter anymore. They were two halves of a whole. Mated, according to legend. According to choice.

Mating is not a choice.

He still wasn’t sure he believed that, but it was damn powerful.

In his arms, Miri tensed. Sliding his energy over hers, Jace pulled her in to him with everything he had as she arched beneath the lash of pain he couldn’t control. The conversion was intensifying. “What was the name of the tech who took her?”

She didn’t answer. Her energy changed, became discordant. It was the only warning he had before her body jerked, spasmed within his grip. Convulsions. Son of a bitch, she was convulsing. Tension wrenched through her muscles, snapping her violently back and forth in a grotesque dance. No matter how hard he held her, he couldn’t prevent the vicious contortions. Jace lay Miri on the ground, pinning her with his greater weight, narrowly avoiding the snap of her teeth. Her canines flashed white. She was changing. He didn’t know what would happen if she changed mid-conversion, but it couldn’t be good.

Thrusting his mind into hers, Jace searched for the cause of the convulsions, pulling back when he found it, shocked. Her systems were in total meltdown, changing without direction as energy scrambled for purchase, fought for control, ricocheted off receptors no longer tuned to receive it, giving birth to chaos. He pressed her down harder, mentally swearing, struggling to forge paths inside her mind to carry the imbalance away. After endless minutes, the violent jerking tightened to steady vibrations until all she did was shudder in his arms. He took advantage of the misleading calm, weaving more and more mental bonds between them, immersing himself deeper into her psyche, holding her with everything he had. Just holding her, because the alternative was not acceptable.

A break appeared in the chaos. A small, dark concentration of energy. He lunged toward it.

Jace.

He was floored that she could even communicate.
What?

Her energy was weak and fluctuating, but she was there. Thank God.

Bring Faith home.

“I will.” He eased her upright. She panted, holding on to him as she quivered from the residual force of the attack. “We both will.”

He wouldn’t accept anything less. His Miri was a fighter. So was he. They’d beat this.

The shake of her head was more thought than action.
This is killing me.

“Nah.” He kept his tone deliberately unconcerned. “It’s just a son of a bitch.” Then:

Don’t you fucking give up on me, sweet.

The thought spilled beyond his ability to contain it. Miri wavered on the verge of unconsciousness, her energy flagging. She couldn’t pass out. Not yet.

Turning, he kissed her temple. His lips lingered on the erratic pulse pounding there.

“Stay with me.”

Her fingers pressed into his back. That spot of energy wavered, grew stronger. She was fighting.

“That’s my girl.”

“Trying,” she whispered.

With everything she had, he knew. And with Miri, that was one hell of a lot. “Who has Faith, Miri?” he whispered, aware of the patrols looking for them outside their very vulnerable hiding place.

She shook her head, her lower lip slipping between her teeth as a bead of sweat trickled down the side of her brow. “I don’t know, but the tech said he’d leave me a clue.”

“What kind of clue?”

“I don’t know.”

That sick feeling of dread spread. Jace had always assumed, when he found Miri, she’d have the information he needed to find their daughter. It was inconceivable that she didn’t. “Where did the tech take her?”

Damn, she had to give him something. Again that mental shake of Miri’s head. He eased her up in his arms, locking his mind to hers, probing so deeply that there was no disbelieving her softly repeated, “I don’t know.”

She twisted in his arms as the burning agony escaped his control and attacked her again, rapidly depleting the last vestiges of her energy. “But,” she gasped as her energy winked away, “I think the Sanctuary might have figured it out.”

“I
’M
never going to find the clue if you keep wiggling.”

Miri pulled her long black hair over her shoulder, the unaccustomed weakness that had been with her since the previous day’s conversion hampering the move. She braced her hand against the tree trunk that composed one side of their shelter. “Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry.” Jace pressed his fingertips against her bare skin with subtle pressure. “You, sweet, could tempt a man into forgetting what he’s supposed to be doing.”

“You’re just a pervert.”

There was a pause in which his energy rippled over her flesh in a tender stroke. Goose bumps sprang up as her nerve endings reached for more. “Nah, just a normal vampire with a healthy appetite for his mate.” He caught her eye. “But if there’s some perversion you want to explore…” The quirk of his lips belied the seriousness of his tone. “I’d be happy to accommodate you.”

Standing naked before him was something she’d done many times before. It was ridiculous to feel so insecure. But she did. Insecure and vulnerable. This wasn’t the same body he’d known before. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t only his any longer. And that made her angry for a lot of reasons, most of which she didn’t want to explore. “There’s no accommodating anything,” she snapped, hating her anger almost more than she wanted to hate him. “I just lost a baby, and our daughter is still missing.”

Nothing was softer than his “I know all that” and that just made her madder.

“Then why are you so…happy?” For lack of a better word.

His fingertip settled in the middle of her spine, on the nub of a vertebra, in a ghost of sensation that sank deeper than her skin. His expression sobered. “Because I have you, and that’s definitely a sign that things are picking up.”

There was no mistaking the glow in his eyes. Desire. For her, when her hair was greasy and she smelled of old blood and sweat. He was insane. “I’m a mess.”

A smile ghosted his lips with the same delicacy of his touch. “You look pretty damn gorgeous to me.”

“You need glasses.”

“Or maybe you need to give me more credit than you’d give a wolf.”

She wasn’t going there. There it was dangerous. There she was vulnerable. His finger drifted lower. A shiver of sensation snaked down her spine. She shifted her feet at the discomfort. She didn’t want this awareness between them. She didn’t want to want him. She didn’t want to want anyone. She just wanted her daughter and some peace. She shook her hair out of her face and redirected his attention. “Do you see anything?”

“Nope.” The tips of his fingers grazed her buttock. “If that Renegade put a clue to Faith’s location on your body, he hid it well.”

She already knew that. The Sanctuary vamps had searched her from head to toe.

“Keep looking.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Pressure between her shoulder blades tipped her forward. “It might have been easier if you had let him tell you a hint as to where he put it.”

She braced her hands on the side of the tree and shook her head. “The Sanctuary would have forced the information from me. I couldn’t take the chance.”

Behind her, Jace stilled.

She twisted around, trying to see what had his attention, hope surging. “What is it? Did you find it?”

He cleared his throat. His big hands cupped her buttocks as he crouched behind her. “Sorry. I got distracted by the view.”

All the awareness she’d been trying to suppress flared with white-hot heat as his breath teased the surface of her thighs, sensitizing the nerve endings in an area she’d thought had become pretty immune to temptation.

“Just keep your mind on what you’re doing.” And she’d try to keep her thoughts where they belonged, too.

He parted her cheeks, then moved lower, more sensuality in the gesture than efficiency. “I’m doing my best, but it would help if you weren’t so beautiful.”

She didn’t feel beautiful. She felt old and used up. And desperate. Incredibly desperate.

Jace’s mouth touched her right buttock, his lips firm and yet somehow soft at the same time, lingering in a hot kiss, his hands holding her steady for the caress. “When I get you to someplace safe, I’ll show you just how beautiful you are.”

The promise, pressed so intimately, sent shivers down her spine and a warning to her core. As if she need reminding how devastating Jace could be to her good intentions. Clearing her throat, she growled, “Stop playing around and focus.”

It came out more throaty than imperative so she wasn’t surprised by his chuckle. “I’m focusing. There just isn’t anything to see but you.”

Her desperation grew. “There has to be something. He said he’d put a clue on me while I was unconscious for the C-section.”

“I’m not doubting he said it.” Jace’s fingers skimmed down her thigh to her calf, circled her ankle, lifted her foot. “I just can’t find it.”

She dropped her forehead to her hands. “It
has
to be there.”

He lifted her other foot. “I’m sure it is, but anybody smart enough to sneak our daughter out of the Sanctuary is smart enough to make sure the clue isn’t easy to find.”

“We have to find it.”

He stood, grazing his hands up her sides, following the flares and hollows of her figure, not coming near anything private, yet the touch seeming so much more intimate than a blatant caress. She shook her head. Nothing was ever simple between her and Jace.

His body pressed hard behind her, big and so warm. “We will.”

She’d never really been cold before the Sanctuary had started with their experimenting. As a werewolf, she had a natural resistance to temperature extremes, to the point that throwing a coat on made the most bitter cold bearable, but the Sanctuary’s numerous efforts to get her pregnant again had her system so messed up that the slightest shift in temperature affected her badly. Taking Jace’s blood seemed to have thrown things even more out of whack. Another shiver, another moment of self-pity. She pushed it back. This momentary discomfort didn’t matter. Even if it became permanent, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was finding her daughter.

Jace’s arms came around her. His chin rested on top of her head. His insistence on treating her as if her anger weren’t a barrier really annoyed her. She wanted to annoy him in return. There was one guaranteed way to do so.

“Have I mentioned lately that I’m divorcing you?”

“Nope.”

He pressed her back against him, his energy reaching out and surrounding her in a hug stronger than muscle could deliver. She glanced down at his forearms, lightly dusted with hair, delineated with the strength common to vampires, yet somehow more vivid in him.

Something disturbed her hair. From the way her nerve endings leapt and tightened she recognized it as a kiss. The man had spent the last twenty-four hours holding her, hugging her, kissing her. Sneaky little kisses that didn’t give her anything to fight with. And the tiny space they were crammed into between the shallow cave and the rotting tree didn’t allow for distance.

“You might want to keep drilling it into my head if you want it to stick,” he told her.

She definitely wanted it to stick. It was different for him. He could leave, while she couldn’t. She couldn’t live with that—the loving more than being loved, the needing more than being needed. It went against every certainty she’d held dear as a wolf.

His lips skimmed her temple. “But I’ve got to warn you, there’s no way it ever will.”

“Why not?”

“Because I claimed you and I have a tendency to hold on to what’s mine.”

She elbowed him in the stomach. “I’m no longer yours.”

Not by a whisper of breath did he indicate that the blow affected him. “I hate to break it to you, sweet, but in the last year I did a lot of research in my free time.”

“Into what?”

“Pack law.”

Shoot. “So?”

“So, I know there’s no divorce in pack law, and separations can only be instigated by a male.”

“When I get home, I’ll have my cousin do it.”

“Hmm.” The tantalizing brush of his lips traveled down her cheek, approached her mouth. “But we’re not home.”

“So, what will that get you?”

The kiss on her lips was quick, efficient, not the lingering exploration her body hungered for.

“Time to change your mind.”

She turned to see his face, angry at herself for responding, angry at him for teasing. Her elbows bumped the wall and his chest, one after the other, in a discordant awkwardness that only increased her frustration. His gray eyes glowed in the darkness of their safe place, not flinching from hers. His confidence irked her more than it should. She grabbed his coat off the floor. “Then I guess that also gives me time to change yours.”

His “You’re welcome to try” was slightly muffled by the whisper of leather over her skin.

She pulled the long swathe of her hair free of the collar. “Thank you. I will.”

While she was off balance, Jace tucked his fingers under the lapel and lowered his head, drawing her up on tiptoe as he did. His breath stroked her lips, his energy smoothed along her nerves, and that fast desire flared between them. “You do that and see what it gets you.”

She had to concentrate very hard to find her voice. “Is that a threat?”

If it wasn’t, her knees were quaking for nothing and the she-wolf in her was getting all aflutter for no reason. “Nah, just something to keep you thinking.”

There was nothing to think about. “We’re not compatible.”

He lifted her a little higher, stretched the tension between them a little tighter. “You feel damn compatible to me, right now.”

“That’s just hormones. That doesn’t mean anything.”

His laugh was a caress unto itself, spreading over her hungry senses, feeding her his breath and his scent. “Just nothing. Another thing I discovered in my research is those hormones mean everything in were mating.”

Miri dropped her forehead to Jace’s hard chest, removing the temptation of his lips from her sight. As if her body could be fooled by so paltry a move. Her mate was standing before her and all it would take to meld their bodies was for her to rise up onto her toes and press her mouth to his. Judging from the heat arcing between them, she wouldn’t even have to do the pressing. He’d handle it for her. The weakness that spread through her wasn’t entirely due to her illness. “Not this time.”

He released the right lapel. The small change in pressure tipped her off balance. Cupping her head, he steadied her. His eyes glowed. “I can wait.”

“Huh. You have no patience.”

“When it comes to you, I have all you need.”

She severely doubted that. She’d changed so much, felt so broken inside. “You’re wasting your time.”

The glow in his eyes intensified. “It’s mine to waste.”

There wasn’t much she could say to that. Jace wasn’t the type to be dissuaded by words.

“So while I’m waiting,” he continued, “why don’t you tell me all you remember about that day.”

She didn’t want to. Didn’t want to relive the loss. But there was no help for it, so she leaned in, letting him support her. “Where do you want me to start?”

He rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone, an abstract gesture of a distracted man. “Where did all this take place?”

“At one of their compounds.”

“I mean, what kind of room.”

“A surgical room. I was supposed to be going in for my daily exam.”

“Describe it to me. Everything you can remember.”

She did, closing her eyes, picturing the bright light gleaming off the polished equipment. She’d been in it so many times, lain there helplessly while they performed their tests, with nothing to do but count the tiles in the ceiling. She knew it down to the smallest detail. She described it to him, taking him through the sterile room, starting at the far corner and working him back to the middle, where the big cabinet was.

“What do you see on the cabinet?”

The mental image blurred. She couldn’t remember.

“Easy, sweet. Just take your time and walk me through it.”

Walk me through it.

He was in her mind and she hadn’t even known it. “If you’re going to intrude, you might as well be useful.”

“Sorry. It just happened.”

“Invading someone’s mind just happens?”

“With you it does. You invite me in, and I go.”

“I did not invite you in!” Had she?

“Not knowingly. I’m beginning to understand that.” He pushed her hair off her face, his eyes kind, his expression hard. “But I still need to know that room and everything in it.”

“Why?”

“It might give us a clue as to what we’re looking for.”

She’d do whatever it took to find the clue that would link her to her daughter. “How do I do it?”

“What?”

“How do I invite you in?”

“You just did.” His smile softened the planes of his face but the wildness inside him had never been more evident. She immediately had second thoughts.

“Too late,” he whispered.

And it was. He was in her mind, her memories. The pressure was incredible. She grabbed his hand and held on, understanding, even as she did it, how irrational it was to seek comfort from the person scaring her.

It’s not irrational at all. I’ve got you.

She certainly hoped so, because she felt like she was coming apart as, minute by minute, piece by piece, he dismantled her memory.

Please,
she whispered to whomever was listening.
Let him find a clue.

SIX
hours later she stood with Jace at the back entrance of a veterinary office. “Hurry up.”

He didn’t glance up. “I’m picking the lock as fast as I can.”

She rubbed her arms as the wind bit with icy teeth into her legs. “I thought you’d be better at this.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Why? Because I’m a vampire?”

“Because you used to be an outlaw.”

He cut her a glance. “I wasn’t technically an outlaw, and even if I was, locks back then didn’t look anything like this.”

She glanced around. The alley behind the clinic was isolated and cluttered with huge trash containers and boxes that could hide anything.