Jace (19 page)

“Oh, my God!” Miri gasped. Her claws sank into his skin. “They threw her away.”

J
ACE
had a thing for throwaways, Miri decided. First her, and now this poor, pathetic baby who needed a mother and was stuck with her. The woman whose throat closed up and extremities went numb when she tried to touch her. The infant who was supposed to stay asleep the whole time Jace was gone to meet with his brothers. The infant who naturally woke up ten minutes after he left. The infant who was now lying in the padded drawer that was functioning as her crib, screaming her head off. The infant she couldn’t touch because… “Hush,” she whispered. Peanut did no such thing. She was probably hungry or dirty. She probably needed care.

If Jace were here he’d know immediately what the problem was, but he wasn’t here. He was over at the main house meeting with Caleb. Miri glanced out the window. There was no sign of movement in the yard. No stray passerby she could impress into duty. There was just her. And, unlike last night, when she’d hid her problem by spending the night ostensibly helping Allie, it was all up to her.

The baby cried louder. The sad sound scratched over her nerve endings like the roughest sandpaper. Her chest tightened in the same adverse reaction she’d had since the first time she’d tried to pick Peanut up. It should be so easy to pick her up and fix whatever was wrong. A simple stretch and then flex of muscle. She rubbed her sweaty palms down her thighs. A simple stretch and flex that eluded her no matter how desperately she tried. No matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t touch that baby, couldn’t close the door on the hope that Faith would come back. It was irrational. It was neurotic. It was illogical. She knew all that, but still, nothing she told herself shook the belief that if she picked up Peanut, all hope of Faith coming home was lost.

She was a terrible person.

Miri?

Oh, God. It wasn’t bad enough that she knew she was a terrible person. Now she’d alerted Jace that she was a terrible person.

He mentally called again. She ignored him and took a step closer to the baby. Her heartbeat accelerated. Peanut screamed louder. She couldn’t get her foot to move closer. She paused and inhaled slowly through her nose and carefully exhaled out her mouth, as Allie had taught her last night. Searching for calm, she did it again. It wasn’t helping. The tension increased. The edges of her vision blurred.

She moved her foot forward. It dragged across the wood floor. In the end she wasn’t even sure how big a step she’d managed, but she tried another. And another. By the time she reached the crib, she was so light-headed she didn’t dare bend over and pick the baby up. Assuming she could get herself past the mind block that said to do so was to kill Faith.

This was ridiculous. She’d had no problem picking up Joseph. Allie had said that was because Joseph didn’t depend on her, so she felt safe. She’d said Miri was afraid of being needed and failing. Miri tried to take a breath. All she got was a squeak of air. Allie had said a lot of things as they’d walked the floors with poor Joseph last night. None of them were helping her right now.

Peanut continued to cry. She continued to stand there, trapped in the hell of her self-induced torment. No air entering her lungs, none of the dictates of her brain reaching her muscles. The front door lock rattled. The door swung open. Jace stepped through. She couldn’t even turn her head to look at him. Anxiety had her completely paralyzed.

Jace closed the door and locked it behind him. Barely glancing at the alarm, he keyed in the code. She watched from the corner of her eye as he approached. He looked at her and then at Peanut. His frowned deepened. “How long has she been fussing like this?”

Nothing could have made her feel more of a failure than that one question. “About five minutes.”

He bent over and picked Peanut up, settling her against his shoulder, rubbing her back. He did it so easily. She felt so useless.

There was no more escaping his question than there was escaping his gaze. “How long have you been standing like that?”

“I’m not sure.”

A couple of jostles and the infant began to settle. On a last snuffle that Miri could have sworn ended on an accusatory glare at her, Peanut stopped crying.

“You were just lonely, weren’t you, Peanut?” Jace crooned to the baby, who soaked up the affection like a sponge, her little head bobbing and her feet kicking with happiness at the sound of Jace’s voice.

“I tried…” Miri let her defense trail off. It didn’t matter what she’d tried. She hadn’t succeeded.

Jace’s arm came around her shoulder—heavy, warm, and familiar as he tucked her in to his side. “I can see that. I can also see that you’re tired and you’ve worked yourself into almost as much of a tizzy as Peanut.”

His understanding annoyed her. It wasn’t okay. She wasn’t okay. She pushed against him. He didn’t let her go. The urge to throw a total tantrum built. She stood still in his embrace and warned, “You might want to reconsider holding me here.”

“I might?” He cocked his eyebrow at her.

“I’m about to launch into a major whine.”

“Why?”

It was so natural to rest her forehead against him. “I don’t want to be like this, Jace.”

“Peanut understands.”

Peanut couldn’t understand anything. “Peanut needs a real mother.” She glanced over at the little girl who was already looking better after a day of Jace’s care. “And a real name.”

“When you’re ready, we’ll name her.”

“You can’t wait for me.”

“Why not? I’ve got forever.”

She rolled her eyes. “Because there’s a distinct possibility she’ll be standing at her mating ceremony in her beautiful claiming dress, and her Alpha will stand up and be forced to call across the pack hall, ‘I claim Peanut.’” She shook her head, letting her hair fall over her face. “Trust me, it will completely ruin the moment.”

As if that were nothing, he laughed. “I’ll take my chances.”

She threw up her hands. “How can you laugh and say that like it doesn’t matter? I’m making such a mess of this! It’s not like I don’t want to help her, I just…can’t.”

“Allie says it’s a panic attack, and it’s not forever.”

“Allie is an optimist.”

“She’s also rarely wrong.” Jace rubbed his hand up and down her arm. “You’ll get through it.”

“What makes you so sure?”

His head bent, and she felt the brush of his lips on the top of her head. “Because of who you are and who Peanut is.”

“What’s Peanut got to do with it?”

“Peanut wants you as her mother.”

His heartbeat was a soothing throb under her ear. “Peanut doesn’t know I’m alive.”

“Peanut cries so much to get your attention. She likes your energy.”

“How do you know?”

“She tells me.”

“She’s telepathic?”

He had the grace to look ashamed as she pushed back from him. His arm reluctantly fell away. Hands on her hips, she demanded, “She talks to you?”

“Sort of.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Since this morning.”

“And you let me believe all night that you were some kind of super father who just instinctively knew what she needed?”

A smile crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Got to admit, I was kind of enjoying those worshipful looks you’ve been sending my way.”

“You rat!” The corner of her mouth itched to tilt into a smile. She
had
been rather impressed.

“Vampire,” he corrected, as if that was a good thing.

“That just makes you a flying, blood-sucking rat,” she pointed out.

The smile spread to his lips. He was an incredibly handsome man when he smiled. “Or a vampire who knows his wife.”

“So this all isn’t coming to you instinctively.” She waved her hand. “She’s guiding you?”

“It’s very random right now, but she definitely has her preferences.”

She stared at the tiny infant. “And she wants me?”

“Yes.”

Peanut gummed her knuckle. Miri shook her head.

“She’s probably going to grow up to have lousy taste in men, too.”

“She’s were.” He shifted Peanut up and chucked her under her chin. “She won’t have a choice, remember?”

“She’ll have a choice.” She wished the words back as soon as she spoke them.

Jace got that predatory stillness about him that didn’t bode well for hedging. “You don’t.”

Miri ducked out from under his arm. “She’ll get to choose where she loves.”

He frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“I know.” She backed up before he could grab her. She grabbed her coat and bolted out the door before he could demand she explain.

It would have been the perfect exit if she hadn’t forgotten about the alarm. It went off with a screech that echoed around the compound. Doors opened; men with guns spilled into the interior courtyard. Behind her, she heard Jace yell, “All clear.” She turned. He was watching her, naturally. A woman didn’t get to drop a bombshell like that and just run away.

She covered her ears and mouthed,
I’m sorry
.

He nodded and leaned back. She couldn’t see his hand, but she assumed he was punching in the code. The alarm shut off as abruptly as it had started.

The men shook their heads and dispersed. All except Tobias and Jace. They both watched her as if she was going to do something crazy at any minute.

“I just forgot to deactivate the alarm.”

Peanut started crying again. Miri remembered what Jace had said about this infant wanting her to be her mother. She took a step back.

“I’m sorry.” She didn’t know if she was saying it to the baby, to Jace, or to all the people she’d scared, she just knew she was sorry. Jace motioned her over. No doubt to hug her again and make her feel better. To take care of her. She shook her head. She didn’t want to be taken care of anymore. She was long overdue in learning to take care of herself. She took another step back, and he frowned. Her heel slipped off the porch step. She would have fallen backward if strong hands hadn’t caught her.

“Careful.”

Caleb. Jace’s brother. The one he looked up to. She expected Caleb to push her back up onto the porch. Instead, he swung her around and set her on the ground beside him. Ice cracked under her feet in a brittle accompaniment to how she felt inside as she looked into his face.

There was a world of understanding in his green eyes as he said, “Why don’t you go up to the house and spend some time with Allie and Raisa?”

Miri glanced in Jace’s direction. She rubbed her arms against the cold. Caleb gave her a little push in the direction of the big house. “Go, before you freeze to death.”

“I…” She couldn’t look away from Jace’s gaze.

“Will it help you make a decision if I tell you I’m here because Allie asked me to come get you?”

Yes, it did. She gave him a grateful look. “Thanks.”

Caleb touched her shoulder, the hesitation in the gesture just one more indication of how much she’d changed. People didn’t used to fear to touch her, didn’t used to gentle their voices when they spoke to her. People didn’t used to think she was crazy.

“Jace will wait, Miri. For as long as it takes.”

It hurt deep down inside that he would, too. She wished Jace would condemn her, but the understanding in those gray eyes of his never wavered. Neither did his belief that he’d have the mate back that he remembered. She wasn’t that woman anymore, but she also wasn’t this woman—the emotional wreck who couldn’t function. She had to find her feet. She nodded to Caleb. “Thank you.”

She headed toward the big house, slipping into the darkness, moving into the welcoming light pouring from the door. Her footsteps sounded unnaturally loud on the porch, and the eyes of the weres guarding the compound settled on her in a heavy stare. Did they condemn her for mating with Jace?

Tobias stood on the porch. For all the nonchalance of his stance, his amber eyes watched her closely.

“I told Jace you wouldn’t accept the baby.”

Asshole
. She lifted her chin and met his gaze, not flinching, though everything in her wanted to cringe at the power there. “Now you’re a fortune-teller as well as an Enforcer?”

“No, just a werewolf like you.”

“I’m not pack anymore. I’m vampire.”

His strange eyes narrowed a fraction. She felt a tingle down her spine.

“Right now, I think you’re hurting too much to be much of anything, but that will change.”

“Any helpful hints on when?”

He smiled. “My powers only go so far.”

Exasperation, anger, and even amusement rushed forward. “Your powers come and go pretty conveniently. “

He didn’t look one whit apologetic. “They do, don’t they? Must be the mountain air.”

“It’s something, all right.” She shouldered past him into the house. The bright cheeriness of the decor immediately flowed over her in welcome.

“Hello, anybody home?”

Footsteps on the landing preceded Raisa’s appearance. “Hey, Miri,” she called, her light Russian accent giving her words a pleasant depth. “Did you bring the baby?”

She shook her head. “Jace is taking care of her.”

It was only a slight misrepresentation of what had happened. Raisa sighed. “Still can’t touch her, huh?”

“No.”

“Well, come on up. Allie is with Joseph.”

“How’s she doing?”

“She’s fine.” Raisa looked over her shoulder and came halfway down the stairs. “I’m really worried about Joseph, though. And if the expression on Slade’s face when he thinks nobody is looking is any indication, so is he.”

“What does he think is the problem?”

“It’s like whatever he eats doesn’t really feed him.”

“Allie must be frantic.”

Raisa waited for her to catch up. “So you would think.”

“She’s not?”

Raisa shook her head and bit her lip before whispering, “I think she’s in denial.”

“She’s not accepting it?”

Granted Miri didn’t know Allie that well, but she didn’t seem the type to deny reality. She seemed more the type to grab it by the throat and make it do what she wanted.

“She says she knows in her gut Slade will come up with a solution.”

Poor Slade. It seemed everyone relied on him. “What did Slade say?”

“He muttered something about it probably just being indigestion and then went back to the lab to make some more of that enzyme mixture.”