Jace (18 page)

“She’s cold,” Caleb said.

Jace covered as much of her back as he could with his hands.

“Let me get these other needles out, and we can wrap her up.” Slade’s drawl wasn’t any steadier than Jace’s hands. And no wonder. There were some things too ugly to take stoically.

“The sons of bitches,” Caleb snarled, shrugging out of his coat before stripping off his shirt.

“You’re the one who was in an all-fired hurry and started blowing off heads,” Jace retorted.

“Next time I’ll know better.” Caleb draped the soft cotton shirt over Jace’s arm. “You can use this for the first layer.”

“Thanks.”

“She’s probably too young and definitely too weak to monitor her body temperature,” Slade said, slipping the last needle free.

“I’ll keep her inside my coat.”

“That’ll work.”

Jace looked up. Tobias stood guard, his rifle braced on his hip, watching them with a strange expression on his face. It could almost be called satisfaction. “Do you have a problem?”

“Just the opposite.”

“What in hell does that mean?”

Tobias didn’t answer, just came into the room, staring at the baby. The baby’s heartbeat accelerated with the were’s approach. Her arms flailed and her feet kicked. She was scared. Jace’s vampire rose. His lips drew back from his fangs. Tobias either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“That’s close enough,” Jace warned.

The words were slightly slurred as his bones morphed.

Tobias stopped, his eyebrows raising. The baby kicked again. His gaze dropped. He frowned. “At least we know how they got her.”

“How?” Slade asked.

“I’d say she’s from a fundamentalist pack.”

“You have fundamentalist packs?”

Tobias nodded, taking another step forward, touching the wisps of hair on the baby’s head. “Not many, thankfully, but they hold to the old ways and old superstitions.”

“Boggles the mind what an immortal could consider the old ways,” Jared commented dryly.

The baby stilled under Tobias’s touch. Jace stayed on guard, but then the were did something, and the chaos in the baby’s mind cleared. Connected as he was, Jace felt her weariness and her happiness at being held. The uniqueness of the experience for her. Her contentment at the stroke of Tobias’s fingers down her back, the tickle as his fingers touched her foot. He glanced down. Her clubfoot.

“Were babies are rarely deformed,” Tobias explained. “In the fundamentalist packs, any that are tend to be regarded as bad omens and left out in the woods to be reclaimed by nature.”

“That’s a pretty way of saying left to die,” Slade drawled.

Tobias glanced up, his hand never leaving the baby. Jace didn’t protest because something about the hard-eyed Enforcer softened when he was touching the child. Peanut’s eyes drifted closed. Her lips pursed and made odd little rhythmic kissing sounds as if she sucked on an invisible pacifier.

“They regard it as letting nature right a mistake.”

“They can regard it any way they want, it’s still murder.”

“Or worse,” Jared growled darkly, glancing around the room before taking the shirt draped over Jace’s arm and holding it up.

“How old do you think she is?” Jace asked Slade as he held the baby away so Jared could wrap the shirt around her.

“Two months. Maybe.”

He unzipped his coat while Caleb shrugged back into his. “Young.”

The baby’s eyes opened as he drew her back against his chest. When he resettled her cheek against his throat, a shudder shook her little body. He pulled the lapel away as he zippered it back up, making sure the zipper didn’t catch her hair. “I know somebody who would love to meet you, little girl.”

His words ruffled the wisps on the top of her head.

“You plan on bringing her home?” Caleb asked.

He looked at his brother. “Do you have a better idea?”

Caleb shook his head. “Just wondering.”

Tobias pulled the lapel back to look at her face. “Miri won’t thank you for this.”

“Why not?”

Miri had arms that were aching for a baby and a need to be needed. Peanut needed a mother.

“Miri’s hurting.”

She needs something to anchor her.

Four hours ago, Jace hadn’t had anything to offer Miri that would give her purpose, but now he did. Jace kissed the soft spot on the top of the baby’s little head, felt the silkiness of the hair there. “So is Peanut.”

It was his ace in the hole.

MIRI
was waiting for him on the porch when he got home. In the predawn light, it was easy to make out the hope lighting her face and the nervousness that had her clenching her hands in front of her. He didn’t need to read her energy to know how anxious she was. Her grip on her hands was white-knuckled and her shoulders were hunched while her head was thrown up and back, almost like she was expecting a blow.

Damn, he’d been hoping she would be inside.

He glared at Jared. “You said she’d stay asleep.”

“Must be she’s stronger than I thought.”

Miri’s gaze dropped to the bulge in Jace’s coat, his hands, the way he was cradling that bulge. He felt her hope flare, the breathless excitement. She watched him with unwavering intensity as he approached. Jace didn’t want to keep her in suspense, but he didn’t want to tell her the bad news before he was close enough to catch her when the bitter disappointment hit. His facial muscles ached with the effort it took not to show how much he hurt for her.

The closer he got, the less hope there was in her expression. When he reached the bottom of the steps, her lower lip was between her teeth and anguish was in her eyes.

“You found a baby.”

“Yes.”

She waited painful seconds. He couldn’t bring himself to elaborate.

“It’s not Faith, is it?” The question drifted on an insubstantial cloud of breath.

He climbed the four steps, cupped his hand behind her head, and leaned in. She ducked away. The rejection went straight to his center. “I’m sorry, Miri.”

She crossed her arms over her stomach and rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms as if to ward off a chill. “Whose baby is she?”

“I don’t know.”

“Her mother must be going crazy.”

“Tobias doesn’t seem to think so.”

“That’s insane.”

He reached for the zipper of his coat. Miri took a step back. Her tongue flicked over her lips. “No. I don’t want to see her.”

“I’ve promised to take care of her.”

“Promised who?”

“Peanut.”

Surprise flared in her gaze at the endearment. “You call her Peanut?”

“I’ve got to call her something. I don’t know her name.”

She took another step back. “I guess.”

“Slade’s going to be over in a bit with bottles and some formula.”

Miri’s nostrils flared, instinctively searching for the child’s scent. Her frown deepened, no doubt exacerbated by the child’s unique makeup. Were and vampire. Like their daughter. “Can she eat that?”

He opened the front door. “I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out. One thing’s for sure, she needs to eat something.”

She waved her hand in front of her nose as he passed by. “She stinks.”

He could feel her resentment that he had brought this child to her instead of her own. He could even understand it. It didn’t make a difference, though. “Tell me about it.”

Miri followed him into the house, maintaining her four-foot safety zone. “We don’t have a crib.”

“We’ll make do.”

“We don’t know the first thing about babies.”

“We’ll learn.”

“We might screw things up.”

“We can’t do any worse than the Sanctuary.”

“We—”

He turned and cut her off. “Miri?”

“What?”

“I understand you want Faith and this baby isn’t her. I understand you’re resentful and anxious, but while you don’t have to have a thing to do with her, I can’t turn my back.”

She didn’t say a word, just stared at him with those golden-brown eyes that revealed the ache in her soul. He headed for the kitchen. On the way he turned up the thermostat. The furnace kicked in when he was halfway to the sink. The baby jumped. He lifted the lapel and looked down. She was still asleep, her tiny mouth sucking on a fold of his shirt.

He felt Miri’s presence behind him. He didn’t turn around, just turned on the hot water and waited.

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why can’t you give her to someone else?”

Because she’d already been thrown away once, and it wasn’t in him to do it to her again. Because if someone found Faith in the same circumstances he would want them to take her in, give her love. Because someone had to make up for what the Sanctuary had done. But he couldn’t tell Miri any of that without explaining the conditions in which they’d found Peanut. He would never put Miri through that, never give her that reality on which to base her worries for Faith.

“You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

The water was hot. He added cold and tested the temperature until it was perfect. He needed to take Peanut out of his coat.

“How are Allie and Joseph doing?”

“Allie’s bleeding has stopped, but Joseph threw up his last bottle.”

That meant the enzyme mixture wasn’t working.

“Damn.” He’d been hoping for good news on that front at least. “Could you get me a couple bath towels, a facecloth, and some soap?”

Miri jumped on the excuse to leave the room like a bird on a beetle. “Of course.” Her relief lingered in her wake.

Jace waited until he was sure she was gone before shrugging out of his coat. He tossed it across a chair, which rocked under the weight, the legs clattering on the floor. The infant’s arms and legs shot straight out to the sides as she jumped.

“Easy there. Didn’t mean to startle you.”

He heard the hall closet door close. When Miri didn’t immediately come back, he sighed. “This might be a little more difficult than I planned, Peanut.”

Peanut didn’t move, and the death grip her energy had on his didn’t weaken. He unwrapped her from the shirt. Her eyes opened as the cool air touched her skin. They were brown with no trace of gold. At least they knew she wasn’t D’Nally Alpha.

Peanut sucked in a deep breath. Her ribs pushed against his hand. If she’d been stronger he was pretty sure she’d have busted his eardrums with the protest she let out.

Miri came running back into the room. “What are you doing to her?”

He stared in dismay at the dramatic change in the infant. “I’m not doing anything.”

“She’s crying!”

“Hell, I think the entire mountain can tell that.”

“She’s scared.”

“How can you tell?”

“Babies only cry like that when they’re scared.”

“You know what that sounds like?”

“Everyone knows what that sounds like.”

To him, all the baby’s cries sounded the same. He rocked Peanut back and forth. “Could you put one of the towels in the sink?”

Miri cut him a funny look. “Sure.”

He turned so she couldn’t see Peanut while she did as he asked. “Thanks, I’ll take it from here.”

“You will?” There was a world of doubt in that agreement. She put the soap and shampoo on the counter.

She stepped back but didn’t leave. Jace eased Peanut away. Her cries grew louder. “Shh, you’ll feel better when we get you cleaned up. I have it on good authority that a bath puts all women in a good mood.”

“Are you by any chance misquoting me?” Miri asked.

He glanced over his shoulder. “I thought you were leaving.”

“I was just curious.”

“About what?”

A long pause and then she said, “How is the sink going to drain with a towel in it?”

He hadn’t thought that far ahead. It was already filling up. He’d have to stop it before it got too deep. Or else clean Peanut really fast. “It won’t.”

“Oh.”

After testing the water again and adjusting the flow, he laid Peanut down on the towel. “That’s better than a cold hard sink bottom, huh?”

Peanut didn’t seem impressed. She just kept howling. He lathered up the facecloth and bathed her carefully. No matter how careful he was, he couldn’t keep the soap from burning the chafed skin of her bottom. Her energy reached for his. He responded immediately, holding her tightly mentally, drawing off the pain. And still she cried.

“If you’re not careful,” he warned her, “I’m going to pull out my last resort. And trust me, no one wants to hear me sing a lullaby.”

A hand touched the hollow of his spine, softly, hesitantly. “I’d like to hear that.”

Jace couldn’t move for fear of scaring her off. Peanut needed her. Hell, so did he. He kept his “No, you wouldn’t” light.

He counted three breaths before Miri slipped one hand and then the other around his waist. Her forehead pressed into his back. “I don’t want to be like this,” she said in a despair-laden voice.

She was talking about her reluctance to accept Peanut.

“I’m not holding it against you.”

“Maybe I’m holding it against myself.”

“Why are you saying this when I can’t hug you?”

“Punishment?”

Ah, hell, neither of them needed any more suffering. “I think we’ve both been punished enough. Heaping more on top of what we already have is overkill.”

She rubbed her head back and forth. Her hair rustled against his shirt. “Tell me how you found her.”

“We had a tip.” He cupped his hand and dribbled water over the baby’s puny body. The care with which he did it didn’t seem to get through. She just kept crying, mouth so wide he swore he could see her tonsils.

Miri raised her voice to be heard over the cries. “I meant
how
you found her.”

“I knew what you meant.”

“But you’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

The last of the soap was gone. He turned off the water, lifted Peanut up, and placed her on the dry towel. Behind him, Miri shifted. He blocked her with his elbow and a mental command.
No
.

Miri ducked beneath both. “Why not?”

“Damn it!”

It was too late. She saw it all—the frail little body, the bruises from the IVs, the sunken eyes, the clubfoot.

He put one hand on Peanut’s chest and the other around Miri’s shoulders, caught in the middle, the common link connecting their separate anguish. He couldn’t manage either.