“Not mine,” I assure him quickly.
He’s focused on holding the shield over the cabin, caging the vampires inside as well as protecting them from all of the people demanding the cabin be torched to the ground. From Malcolm’s earlier statement, I’m assuming the man easing Beck to the floor is Vice. He helps him sit on the top step of the porch near Malcolm before retreating to the base of the stairs, checking in with several men in the same military garb working their way throughout the clearing. Careful not to throw myself at him and make him lose his concentration, I wrap my arms around Malcolm’s waist, burrowing my face in his chest and inhaling the faint scent of cologne andhome.
His hands are busy holding the shield, but he nuzzles his cheek on top of my head. “Gods, have I missed you. Fuck society; you’re never leaving the house again.”
Beck barks out a harsh laugh that tapers off into a pained groan. “Called it.”
I smile into my mage’s shirt. “You’re not gonna hear me objecting. Better locked up in the penthouse than jail.”
His cheek is replaced by lips pressing into my hair. “I got it worked out with authorities so you can come home, but it certainly didn’t help public opinion. I think we’re better off taking a break from trying to change the world for a little while and focus on protecting mine.” Tilting my chin up, the next kiss lands on my lips, and I rise up on my toes to hold on to it as long as possible.
Reality comes crashing down in the form of wailing across the clearing, and a quick look reveals a sobbing woman draped over a fallen figure. Scanning the bloodied field, another deafening crack of thunder rings out, the rain still holding out and refusing to fall. The air is charged with the static of the impending storm, so similar to Kasen’s scent that it makes my stomach tighten.
It’s a sea of blood, and from what I can gather, it looks like we lost three shifters and ten vamps. It’s horribly tragic, all of that loss for nothing, but a sick, still human part of me is impressed. Most of the attacks that happen are only a handful of vamps and can leave a dozen or more dead in their wake. With two dozen, it’s the biggest nest I’ve ever heard of, and only losing three men is nothing short of a miracle.
But praising miracles feels an awful lot like making your peace with your lot in life, grateful that something terrible didn’t turn out worse and being afraid to wish for more. A dying loved one that wakes up. A disease being cured. A missing person being found. When it comes down to it, we’re willing to overlook all of the pain and suffering that was endured by pretending that death is the worst thing that can happen to a person. A miracle is nothing more than a name for intense relief when you’re tired of fighting or scared and something changes to take that terror away.
The surviving families of the three dead people on that field sure don’t look at this as any sort of miracle.
A massive black blur comes barreling into the clearing, Kasen shifting back at the base of the stairs and taking them in two strides. Unperturbed by the fact he’s butt-ass naked, he yanks me away from Malcolm and smashes me against his chest in a hug so tight, my head very well might pop off. He doesn’t say a single thing, and really, he doesn’t have to.
I get it. We simply stand there as I struggle not to cry, because gods, Imissedthis. Missed them. Beck kept me sane and I love him, but I love them too, and finally being back together seems to amplify how much was missing over the last week while we were all hanging on by a thread.
“Mr. Crawford,” maybe-Vice interrupts, features hard with determination. “If you could describe where the entrance to the nest is for us, I’d like to get this handled while the vamps are still contained.”
Clearing my throat, I pull away from Kasen, but he has such a firm grip, it’s clear I won’t be going more than two steps away from the man for the foreseeable future. “I’ll show you the way.”
“Bull-fucking-shit,” Beck spits, using the rail to try and get to his feet.
“Absolutely not,” Malcolm snaps, narrowing his eyes and looking like he might say fuck it and drop the shield to put me in a prison-bubble instead.
Kasen simply tightens his hold, not objecting, but making it clear that he could throw me over his shoulder with very little effort. Taking a deep breath, I tear my gaze away from the mourning widows, another appearing to hover between the other two fallen shifters, and look Beck right in the eye with a sad half-smile of resignation.
“You know as well as I do that we took a lot of twists in those tunnels. They’ll be wandering around for ages and Malcolm can’t hold the shield forever. You really want me to be here when it breaks and all of those vamps are loose again? To let them eat your stupidly hot face while you’re a sitting duck?”
He glares. “Don’t manipulate me.”
––––––––
“Don’t be so fun toplay with, then.”
He doesn’t buy into my teasing. “We almost died down there, Scar.”
“Actually, we were much closer to dying up here. If anything, it’s safer in the tunnels right now.” Softening my expression, I crouch down and softly press my lips to his. “Let me do this, okay? Kasen will be with me. We’ll be able to talk to you both the entire time, and we’ll be with people that have more experience handling these situations than any of us do. I’m not saying it’s safe, but doodling them a map and waiting here next to the hornet’s nest with our fingers crossed isn’t either. Your leg is broken, otherwise I wouldn’t have offered, because it wouldn’t be necessary. But it is, and you know it too, even if we wish it wasn’t.”
I sigh. “I can’t do much, Beck. I’m not a great fighter. I’m not just fucking broke, I’m broken. My great contribution today was being a bloody lunatic and holding a door closed while other people died. But I can play tour guide and tell myself that I helped give the people inside that cabin a chance at a second life and the ones out here can watch them become lucid and understand that there’s actual hope. Don’t take that away from me just because you’re scared to have me out of your sight.”
He tears his gaze from mine and glares up at the roof. “It’s not that. I’m afraid of what it’s going to put you through to be back there again.”
“He can’t get in my head anymore. He’s dead, and originals can’t just control any vamp they’re close to.”
He scoffs.“I’m not worried about that. You know damn well that I’m louder than any bastard that tries to get in your head. I’m afraid of what it’s going to do to you to look at him. The memories it’s going to drag to the surface. You don’t scream every night anymore, Scar, but you talk in your sleep. You cry and make the most heart wrenching noises. You beg for him to let you go and it fucking kills me. It’s been less frequent in recent weeks and I can’t stand the thought of this putting you back there in your head.”
I purse my lips, because this sure as shit is news to me. I’d been proud and thrilled with how far between the nightmares had gotten and thought I was making progress.
He thinks so too, that’s why he’s worried.
Releasing a long, slow breath, I accept the fact that Malcolm and Kasen are unintentionally eavesdropping because I’m shit at mental shields, so I include them in my statement.“I want closure. He may not be the one that used me, but it still feels like justice, as much as that’s me projecting my issues.”
