Jace (29 page)

“She does realize Penny is not going to be staying here?” Marc asked.

Jace nodded. “She just needs to do for her so that she can feel comfortable letting her go.”

“Ah.” Marc paused. “Thank you again for saving her.”

“No need for thanks. There’s not a man worth his salt who would have left that little girl there.”

“My mate would have.”

What was he supposed to say to that? He went for the obvious. “Why?”

“She was very much a fundamentalist.”

“And you’re not.”

“No.”

“Then why did you mate with her?”

“Matings are not a choice. When it became obvious we were compatible to breed we did our duty.”

“It’ll be a cold morning in hell before I see Miri as a duty.”

“But you’re here.”

“I told you, I like a challenge.”

“And your mate is pack.” Marc opened the refrigerator door.

Jace shrugged. “That makes it work out all around.”

“She loves my daughter.”

“Yeah, she does.”

“Even though she’s deformed and not of her blood.”

“Miri doesn’t see the world in terms of perfect.”

Marc nodded, putting one bottle in the fridge and keeping one in his hand. He closed the refrigerator. “I noticed that. She’s going to be good for the people.”

“Even if I’m part of the package deal?”

“I haven’t decided about you yet.”

That was at least honest. Jace dusted off his hands. “Is there a supply of wood for Bertha here?” He indicated the stove. “Or do I have to split it?”

“There’s probably loads. Travis didn’t like to be cold and made sure plenty was always delivered.”

Jace cocked a brow at him. “He didn’t cut his own?”

Marc’s lips flattened back into that straight line that said so much. “Travis thought being leader gave him a lot of rights.”

Jace settled his hat on his head. “I take that to mean he didn’t split his own wood.”

“Pretty much. He had pack for that.”

Travis had used the pack for a lot of things. Jace opened the back door and stopped. There had to be at least ten cords of wood there. The place was big, but it wasn’t that big, and this being the end of winter, the stack should have been on the opposite end of the scale from huge. He tried to remember seeing this much wood behind the other houses. He actually couldn’t remember seeing any. He walked over to the nearest pile and grabbed an armful. When he turned, Marc was watching him.

“This the community woodpile?”

“No.”

He hadn’t thought so. Jace brushed past him, placed the wood on the floor beside the stove, and stirred the embers with the poker. “I haven’t been around here long enough to know what’s what, but if there’s anyone in need of wood, bring some men up here and divide this pile up among those who need it.”

The floorboard squeaked again. He glanced up. Brac stood in the doorway, a clear bowl filled with what looked like colored rocks and water in his hands. “What makes you think anybody’s in need?” he asked as he leaned his shoulder against the doorjamb.

Movement in the bowl indicated where the frog had ended up. Jace stacked kindling in a small pyramid. “That’s a hell of a lot of wood to be still sitting at the end of winter. And my guess is a lot of somebodies went lean to keep it that way.”

He could feel Brac looking at him.

“Do you think distributing some wood is going to get you in the pack’s good graces?”

Jace twisted paper tightly and slipped it under his pile of kindling. “I don’t intend for it to do anything but keep people warm.”

Brac didn’t look convinced. Jace didn’t give a shit.

“Did you come for something or were you just feeling nosy?”

“I thought you’d like to know the women will be up shortly. And this frog still needs a home.”

He blew on the embers. “Why?”

“Because I’m getting sick of babysitting it.”

“Looks like you’re doing a good enough job at it.”

Brac held up the bowl. “I robbed a couple of those vases in the living room for some stones.”

“Wilhelmina probably never had it so good.” Jace glanced over. “Why are the women coming?”

“To see if there’s anything Miri would like that she doesn’t have.”

“That’s nice of them.”

“I wouldn’t call it nice. It’s pack law.”

Flames ate at the edge of the paper. “You’re going to have to explain that one.”

“It’s Miri’s right as female Alpha to take whatever she wants,” Marc explained carefully.

Jace frowned. “We’re good.”

“Good for what?” Miri asked, coming back into the room. She stopped just in front of him, putting herself between him and Brac in that protective way she had. As if he’d ever use her as a shield.

“Good for all we need.”

He caught her hand and tugged her back three steps to a point behind him. Brac watched the gesture with raised brows.

Jace ignored the exasperated glance Miri shot him. She kissed the baby’s head. “I don’t understand.”

“It appears the Tragallions have a quaint old-fashioned custom in which they want to include us. One where we ransack their belongings for whatever we want. I’ve turned them down.”

“Why?” Marc asked as Miri passed Penny to him.

“I provide for my wife.”

“Travis supported it,” Brac interjected.

“Travis is dead,” Jace growled, walking over to the refrigerator and opening the door. Steak, steak, and more steak covered the shelves. There was enough food in that one refrigerator to feed an army. If Travis were still alive, Jace would have kicked his ass. “Did Travis have a big family?”

Marc’s upper lip curled. “He never remated after his wife died.”

“Ah.” He looked over his shoulder. “Steak okay with you, Miri?”

She came over and caught the door before he could shut it. Her breath sucked in.

“Brac?” Miri called.

The were pushed away from the doorjamb. “Yes?”

“How close were you to Travis?”

“I was his second in command.”

“That wasn’t what I asked you.”

“Princess,” Jace warned as the were’s scent changed.

She spun around, her elbow colliding with Jace’s stomach. “What?”

“Treading on a man’s pride can be dangerous business.”

“I’m not treading on anything. I’m asking a question.”

“A damn insulting question,” Brac snarled, setting the frog on the counter.

Miri pushed Jace back, matching Brac glare for glare. “Who’s your loyalty to, Brac?”

“My loyalty is to my pack.”

“Not your Alpha?” Jace asked.

“The Alpha is an extension of the pack,” Miri supplied, back to staring at the contents of the fridge, a strange tension humming off her.

“And if the Alpha is a skunk?”

“Steps are taken,” Marc said, holding Penny in one arm while running a pot under the faucet.

“By whom?”

“Someone in the chain of command.”

“Did you call the Enforcer, Brac?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “What if I did?”

Miri reached into the refrigerator and grabbed a packet of steak and slapped it on top of the lace tablecloth. “Then you waited too damn long.”

She turned and grabbed another and then another, tossing them on top of the wood table, pitching steaks out of the refrigerator faster than Jace could catch them.

“Miri?”

Brac moved forward. Marc took a step in. Miri snarled and started throwing packs out two at a time. Penny started to cry. “Pack went hungry while that bastard sat up here hoarding food, didn’t they?”

Jace shook his head before Marc could answer. A six-pack of beer hit the pile of steak and took a dangerous slide toward the edge. Jace grabbed it, setting it carefully on the floor.

“Brenda Lynn probably knows what hunger is, doesn’t she?” Miri asked.

Jace didn’t have to warn the others to say nothing on that. A fool could see Miri was winding up. He took a step in. Three packets of meat drove him back.

“And her mother hates this place for a reason, doesn’t she? She doesn’t want to come here because of the memories, right?”

She kicked the door open when it began to close, her arms loaded with packs of meat, condiments, and milk. “Right?” she demanded again when Brac didn’t answer immediately. The were caught the door when it whipped back. Jars rattled.

“She might have some reason.”

Miri dumped the food on the table. Marc made a dive for the milk, but because of Penny, he missed. The container hit the floor and popped open. The contents bled across the wood surface.

Miri just stood and stared as the puddle grew. “Shoot.”

Jace bent down and picked up the carton, popped the cap back on, and put it back into the fridge. Miri immediately grabbed it back out. There was still a half carton left. “That’s for Brenda Lynn.”

She was back in motion. She scooped up a corner of the tablecloth and threw it over the pile with almost frenetic energy. Three steps and she was around the table, repeating the gesture until she had all the food bundled into the expensive tablecloth. When she would have pulled it off the table, Marc stopped her.

“That cloth is too fine to use for that.”

“Melinda will be upset if you tear her grandmother’s linen,” Brac agreed.

“Who’s Melinda?”

“Marjorie’s aunt.”

Miri groaned as if the information was more than she could bear. “Even the tablecloth is stolen?”

Jace opened his arms. Miri turned in to them. He caught a glimpse of the tears on her cheeks before she buried her face against his chest. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Jace.”

No matter how tightly he held her he couldn’t keep her illusions from shattering.

“It’s not supposed to be like this among my own kind.”

“I know. But we’ll fix it, baby.”

Her fingers wrapped in his shirt. “Determination can’t fix everything.”

But it could fix this. Of that he was convinced. He tipped her chin up. Light caught on the tears in her eyes, turning the irises a lighter shade of gold. “Isn’t that just like a woman to marry up with a man and then immediately try to change his way of thinking.”

Brac motioned to the food. Jace nodded. The other man grabbed some paper bags out of the cupboard and started loading them up. Marc took the bottle off the stove and took Penny from the room.

“I’m not trying to change you,” Miri whispered.

“You’re trying to get me to believe in hopeless.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. “And baby, hopeless isn’t something I do. Especially not with you.”

“I don’t know how much more I can take.”

“Then don’t. Let me handle it for you.” He needed her to let him handle this for her. “Just for a little while.”

He held his breath while she debated. Her nod was the sweetest gift he’d ever received. Jace swung her up in his arms. Her arms went around his neck. Across the room, Brac stared, his eyes narrowed, his thoughts unreadable.

Miri tapped Jace on the shoulder. “Just a minute.”

She leaned back so she could see Brac. “Tell the women to come for their belongings in a half hour.”

“Excuse me?”

She waved a hand toward the parlor. “I want them to come get their belongings. I don’t want them.”

“That could leave you with nothing.”

Jace took in Miri’s pallor and her tear-splotched face. She needed to feed. “Tell them to be here in an hour.”

I
T
was going to be easier to cure the frog.

Miri watched as, one after another, women came into her home to retrieve their furniture. The tiny hope she had that maybe at least one of them would welcome her died as two women struggled with the mattress for the bed. No one took the mattress from the bed unless they seriously wanted you gone.

She kept her voice as calm as possible as she said, “After you’re done, could you all come back here, please?”

A few of the women gave her nervous glances. A couple of the looks were outright sullen. Most of the women didn’t look at her at all. Miri sighed. Why couldn’t something, for once, go easily?

The front door opened. Brenda Lynn came bouncing into the room behind her mother, bringing the stench of lilac perfume and the coolness of the night air with her.

“How’s Wilhelmina?”

“I think she’s a little better.”

The little girl beamed. Her mother eyed Miri warily as she headed for the beautifully carved side table against the wall. Miri sighed again. No ally there.

“Brenda Lynn, come help me with this table,” Marjorie called.

Brenda Lynn shook her head. “I want to see my frog.”

“The table first, then the frog.”

The little girl stomped over to her mother. Miri watched, humor mixing with the ache of loss as she did. Everything about Brenda Lynn made her wonder about Faith, projected her into the future, wondered if she would be the same at that age. God, she wanted her baby. Wanted her to have a future more than anything else in the world.

A touch of warmth surrounded her pain. Jace. She quickly shut off the emotion, not wanting to worry him. He had enough pain and guilt about their daughter. When he wasn’t specifically guarding his emotions from her, she could slip under his shields and feel the agony he was trying to keep hidden. Part of her wished he’d share that pain. The more selfish side wanted him to keep it firmly locked up. She didn’t feel strong enough to handle his and hers.

Brenda Lynn moved the lamp off the table. Miri frowned. The child’s pants were too short and her shirt was faded. Earlier she’d thought that was because she’d been wearing play clothes, but no woman brought her child to the Alpha’s house, even for a sign of nonsupport, in anything less than their best. The familiar feeling of anger and helplessness rolled over Miri, culminating in a sort of hopeless panic. One of the less favorable things she’d learned at the Sanctuary.

Hopeless isn’t something I do.

Jace’s words came back to her, along with the feel of his hand on her chin, the rush of his personality along with his utter belief that he could fix everything—her, their daughter, this pack.

She licked her lips. Jace believed in the impossible, the way other people believed in simply breathing. Where she’d been brought up with a sense of duty, but within an environment of ease, he’d been brought up fighting. She was used to warriors. Weres were warriors to the core, but Jace’s edge was more honed. As a result, situations that left her doubting her ability just brought out his determination. She brought her fingers up and touched her lips. Touched her tongue to the surface, tasting the remnants of his kiss. She looked at all the women ransacking her house in their enthusiasm to reclaim bits and pieces of themselves. It was the same for her every time she connected to Jace. Bits and pieces of herself she’d thought lost just seemed to reappear, stronger than she remembered, as if nourishing the bond between them nourished other parts of her as well. Parts she’d missed, such as her self-confidence, her faith, her belief. Which was a good thing, because she was going to need them.

She winced as the heavy dining room table was dragged across the polished wood floor in a harsh scream of protest. The women froze and glanced at her, their expressions a mixture of horror and defiance.

She smiled. “I’m sure we can sand it out.”

The women holding the table, the similarity of their features showing them to be obviously related, stared a second longer and then nodded. Albeit doubtfully.

Miri knew exactly how they felt. She wasn’t sure of anything, either, other than the certainty that this pack had been abused. So had she. That gave them more in common than not. Learning how to grow out of the mess their lives had become was something they’d do together. She licked her lips again. With Jace’s help. Even though she was married to him, she still found it hard to believe he’d agreed to become pack.

“What was wrong with Wilhelmina?” Brenda Lynn asked over her shoulder as she trailed her mother to the door, a small drawer from the table in her hands.

“I think she just had too much of the wrong kind of change.”

The methodical stripping of the house paused, the break of silence in the commotion telling. Miri pretended not to notice. Brenda Lynn came back into the room, the drawer swinging at her side. “That doesn’t make sense.”

No, it probably didn’t to a five-year-old. She tried a new tactic. “Wilhelmina is a very special kind of frog.”

Instantly, the little girl was all attention. “Wilhelmina is special?”

Miri nodded. “Very special. She can sleep whenever she wants to so she can avoid whatever she wants to. She has the ability to take long naps when it’s cold.”

“Brenda Lynn,” her mother called.

The child ignored the summons and frowned, rubbing at her eye with the back of her hand. “I know. I keep having to wake her up.”

“Well, I think waking her up is making her sick. She needs to sleep.”

The child cocked her head to the side and considered that. Marjorie came back into the house, saw where her daughter was, and frowned. Brenda Lynn ignored her mother’s next call. “I don’t feel good when I’m tired.”

“And neither does she. And she needs to sleep in winter, right on through the cold until everything warms up.”

“So if I let her sleep she’ll like me again?”

“Oh honey, she never stopped liking you.” Miri knelt down, putting herself at eye level with the little girl, and caught her hands. “But not being able to sleep when she wants makes her unhappy.”

“So if I let her sleep she’ll like it here?”

“Yes.” Miri fully intended to talk the child into letting the frog go come warm weather, but for now, letting her hibernate would be good. Assuming she could hibernate in a house. “I think that change will do her good.”

Brenda Lynn was quiet for a moment. She looked at her mother and then back at Miri, her hands clutched on the edge of the drawer. The muscles in her forearms shifted as her small hands gripped tightly.

“And maybe if you change things here, my mom will want to stay here, too?”

“Brenda Lynn!”

Miri wasn’t surprised to hear Marjorie was planning to leave. The other woman had a tired, hopeless, trapped look about her. Miri might not know what inspired it, but she knew how that felt.

“I hope so.” She waved Brenda Lynn in the direction of the kitchen, wincing at the overpowering scent of lilac. “Wilhelmina is in the kitchen. Do you know where that is?”

“Of course.” She wrinkled her nose. “I used to live here.”

Miri blinked in the aftermath of that revelation. Brenda Lynn skipped off.

She turned to her mother. “You and Brenda Lynn used to live here?”

Marjorie pulled herself up straight. “Yes.”

“I was told Travis wasn’t mated.”

Marjorie lifted her chin. “He wasn’t.”

Miri blinked. “You’re related?”

Someone snorted. Marjorie’s chin went higher. “No.”

No self-respecting pack woman lived with a male unmated. “You agreed to the arrangement?”

That chin came down in a short jerk. “I accepted the choice.”

Which left a lot of room for interpretation. Proud and defiant, her attitude was almost a dare. Knowing what she did of Travis and of pack custom, Miri was willing to bet some sort of coercion had been involved and, despite the other woman’s hostility, couldn’t suppress the well of empathy. “We all do what we have to.”

Marjorie’s lids flickered. “Excuse me?”

From what she could see, Travis was the one who needed to be excused, but there was no way to address that and not smear Marjorie’s pride in the dust.

Help came in the form of Brenda Lynn. She came out of the kitchen, the familiar energetic bounce to her step, the glass bowl containing Wilhelmina in her hands. Water and stone sloshed around as the frog clung where and how it could.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” Marjorie called, the love for her child clear in her voice. “Wilhelmina is going to get sick.”

Brenda Lynn immediately sat down, asking the frog as she did, “Are you feeling sick, Willy?”

Her face, as she anticipated the little frog’s answer, was precious. The child was precious. Marjorie had tears in her eyes.

Miri touched her arm. “I’m going to make it better for her.”

Marjorie’s expression snapped closed. “Talk is easy.”

“So is giving up,” Miri shot back.

Marjorie bristled. “Word is, you gave up a long time ago.”

Miri folded her arms across her chest. “In what way?”

Marjorie squared off against her. “You mated with a vampire.”

“I mated with your Alpha, and I’m willing to bet he’s a better man than you’ve seen in a long time.”

“You haven’t marked him,” one of the women near the door offered.

No, she hadn’t, and she was beginning to see how ridiculous that was. “That’s between Jace and me.”

“If you don’t trust him, why should we?”

Good question. “It’s not that I don’t trust him.”

“Yeah, right.”

She ran her hand through her hair, tugging it through the snarls. How much to tell? She looked around at the mixture of hope and suspicion reflected back at her. This was her pack. These women would follow her lead. Secrets weren’t going to help any of them.

“I was a Sanctuary captive for a year.” She licked her lips as shame rose within her. Immediately there came a soothing touch of calm. This time she didn’t shut herself off. The women were right. If she didn’t let herself trust Jace, why should they? “It left me with some issues.”

“You should let your mate handle them,” a cute blonde, whose name she didn’t know, piped up.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Do you fear he won’t want you if he knows everything?”

She ran her hand through her hair and shook her head. “Jace is an incredibly loyal man.”

“Then you should stop being foolish and mark him,” Marjorie retorted.

“As soon as you’re done here, I’ll get right on it.”

Now, that I am looking forward to.

“They say you saved Marc’s daughter,” the blonde continued, ignoring her sarcasm the way Miri was ignoring Jace.

“That business wasn’t done well,” Miri heard another woman mutter.

“On that we’re in agreement, and I wasn’t the one who saved her or claimed her—that was Jace.”

“She has a deformed foot.”

Murmurs rippled through the room in expanding waves, as if a clubfoot was the end all and be all of what made a good person.

The anger inside rose, catching in Miri’s throat in a suppressed growl. “She also has a beautiful smile and the sweetest little nature. Of the three, I’m thinking the last two are more important.”

“She’ll bring bad luck,” a woman with very old energy interjected.

Marjorie spun around. “It’s worse luck when a pack abandons innocent children to outdated superstition.”

Another murmur went through the women. The woman with the old energy stayed back, but the other women moved forward, just a little.

“Much worse. I was raised to believe pack supports pack unconditionally, without qualification.” Miri glanced at Marjorie. “And not just when it comes to children.”

An “Easy for you to say” drifted out of the slowly tightening group of women.

“Yes, it is.” Miri folded her arms across her chest. “Which brings me to something else.”

“Change your mind about giving back our belongings already?”

She should, considering they were taking everything right down to the soap sponge in the sink. “No. It’s my husband’s job to provide for me, so I’ll let him.”

Thanks.

Miri ignored the dry interruption. “But from here on out, no more families are going hungry, and no more children are going to be left in the woods. We’re Tragallion weres, members of the D’Nally clan, and that stands for something.”

“Yeah, neglect,” the older woman muttered.

Miri had had about enough out of her. “Anyone unhappy with the way things are going to be run is free to leave.”

“You can’t kick me out. Only the Alpha can.”

“I think it’s safe to say I can pretty much get him to do whatever I want.”

The woman shut up.

True. For the right incentive you could get me to do just about anything.

Images of her naked body covering his, her hair sliding over the hollow of his abdomen in a seductive blanket, flooded her mind.

Perv.

Not interested?

I didn’t say that.

That’s what I thought.

Hush, now.

You’re very sexy when you go all queenly.

Hold that thought.

I’d rather hold something else.

There was no mistaking the smile tucked into the declaration. She had to suppress her own smile. Jace was absolutely outrageous. And every day she was remembering more and more how much she enjoyed it.

Let me do my job.

Will you make it up to me later?

She carried his image a step further, felt his gasp in her head, the heat that surged through his body. And cradled a thrill of satisfaction that she could do to him what he did so easily to her.

Absolutely.

She refocused on the women, who were eyeing her oddly. And no wonder. It probably looked like she’d spaced out there for a moment. “Do you want to leave or stay?”

There was a tense pause. Miri held her breath. She couldn’t afford to lose anyone, least of all an elder of the pack. A vote of no confidence at that level would take years to overcome. The woman’s gaze dropped just short of a direct challenge “Stay.”