This bright moment was a hook on the line of lies Bathin dangled through his clever, hot fingers.
Dad was right. We were made of sturdy stock.
Sturdier than the promises of demons. Sturdy enough to make the right choices.
I wordlessly took a step away from Bathin. It felt like my ribs were being ripped out of my chest.
I took another step.
Bathin’s hand slid away. The emotions—love, worry, sorrow—all tumbled down like leaves lost beneath the cold moonlight.
“Such a thing you are,” Bathin whispered.
He didn’t move to follow me.
Two steps turned into three, three into four until I was striding after Ryder, the dense air of the hospital cooling the tears on my cheeks I hadn’t felt fall.
~~~
Ben’s room was larger than I’d expected, but was made small by the six wolves, three vampires, one nurse, and one reserve officer who filled it.
Three of the wolves were sitting on rolling doctor-office stools and were plastered against one side of the bed, leaning arms, hands, heads against Jame’s feet, hip, shoulder. Covering him in a blanket of limbs, of family. Pack.
Jame lay on his side, his arm crooked over the top of Ben’s head, his other arm carefully lined along Ben’s side, fingers splayed on the patch of intact flesh on Ben’s hip bone.
Ben lay on his back, his eyes closed and every bone in his body looking too large and sharp for the skin that covered it. He had a variety of machines hooked up to him, blood on an I.V. drip, and the blanket pulled up in lopsided bunches across his chest.
Granny Wolfe sat on Ben’s side of the bed in the easy chair that seemed to come standard with the room.
To the right of the room was a built-in couch tucked against a wide window across which the blinds had been drawn. Two vampires lounged on the couch, and Rossi stood in those shadows, arms crossed, eyes on Ben, like he owned everything and everyone in the room.
It was an odd allegiance, especially since just a few hours ago, I was pretty sure the weres and the vamps were about to give the K.I.N.K.s and C.O.C.K.s a run for their money with who could throw down in this town.
Ryder was near the foot of the bed. He shifted so that his back was to the vamps and he could keep an eye on me instead.
What did that say about the level of trust he shared with me?
“Hey,” I said softly, because even with the whiplash sting of having felt my emotions and lost them again, I knew this was a sacred space, a healing space.
I knew the werewolves curled around Jame were giving him strength and calm. Strength and calm that would in turn be transferred to Ben.
Jame didn’t glance my way, his eyes steady on Ben as if he were his whole world.
There was an ease to Jame’s body language. He might still be in pain, but it was no longer agony. I didn’t think that had anything to do with his physical wounds. I think it was all different because of the bite mark, still red and a little ragged that showed so sharply on the side of his neck.
They were joined again, had claimed each other. I didn’t know if Ben had been conscious for that or if Jame had used Ben’s mouth to puncture Jame’s neck. But they were together. Tied tight.
Something in me unwound knowing that, and I let myself savor the relief that only lasted long enough to tantalize and torture, like saltwater on a thirsty tongue.
Ben’s eyes snapped open, wide and fever-glossed. “D’laney?”
I crossed quickly to the head of the bed, Ryder stepping out of my way like he didn’t even want to risk the chance of touching me.
It bothered me. Until it didn’t.
Ben didn’t quite track my movement. I stopped beside him, where he wouldn’t have to move his head to see me.
I was aware of Ryder stepping in closer, the tension of his body. But I didn’t hesitate to touch Ben’s hand. Ben was strangely hot, and since vampires usually ran cold it threw me for a minute.
