miserable day away.
“Where’s Bones?” I asked.
“He’s outside, should be back in shortly.”
I didn’t say anything, but my anguish at how things had deteriorated to where Bones couldn’t even take the time to wake me must have shown on my face. Spade sighed.
“He’s not used to this, Cat, and he’s handling it quite poorly.”
“Not used to what?”
“Fear.” Spade lowered his voice. “Crispin’s always prided himself on his emotional control, yet he has none with you. He’s never before experienced the fear of losing the person he loves to someone else. Oh, your friend Tate might brass Crispin off, but he knows Tate is no real threat. Gregor’s different. He’s older than Crispin, more powerful, and no one knows how much you might have cared for him.”
I was afraid Spade had underestimated the situation. “I don’t think that’s the issue. Bones and I can’t even be around each other without fighting.”
“Both of you are in foul tempers with little to do but lash out at each other, but don’t lose sight of priorities. Isn’t he what you’re fighting for?”
I bit my lip. “What if it
My voice cracked. The room blurred as my eyes filled up. See? Emotional train wreck, just like I’d described.
“I think I should go to Don,” I said finally, wiping my eyes. “He has facilities I don’t know about, and they’re built to withstand bunker-buster bombs. I could wait there until things calmed down. And then I wouldn’t be jeopardizing everyone around me—”
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Bones filled the doorframe behind Spade. I hadn’t even heard him come up the stairs; he’d moved almost as silently as Fabian. Green glinted in his eyes, and his expression was granite.
“In case you weren’t paying attention, Kitten, I’ll say it again. You’re not going anywhere. Not to Don, or to anyone else. You’re mine, so don’t mention leaving again.”
This wasn’t a tender declaration of “I need you here with me.” No, it was the dispassionate pronouncement of “You’re
Spade squeezed my hand before sliding off the bed, looking at me almost pityingly before he left.
“It will be all right.”
I didn’t argue, but I didn’t believe him. Bones hadn’t even given me a chance to apologize for earlier before he’d stalked off. Everything that mattered to me—my relationship with Bones, my independence, being there for my friends, taking down murderers—all that was in tatters. Most of that was Gregor’s fault. Some of it, however, was mine. At least I could do something about that.
First things first. I had to get my wildly swinging emotions under control so that when I saw Bones later, we could talk things out. I concentrated on my emotional defenses, strong barriers forged from my childhood days when even my mother rejected me, then honed and thickened over the years when I’d left Bones. They were as familiar to me as my skin, and right now, they were the only things that could hold me together.
When I felt grounded enough, I began to plan. I’d start with a long, hot shower, then do some training to blow off steam. If I was lucky, I’d get Ian to spar with me. Tearing into him sounded like a good start, and he’d been spoiling for a rematch since the day I beat him.
And then after that, I’d talk to Bones. Try to hash things out between us before they got any worse.
TWELVE
IAN GLOWERED UP AT ME. “IF IT WEREN’T SO bleedin’ close to dawn, I’d make you beg for mercy.”
I was on top of him, my legs on either side of his waist. He might have liked it under other circumstances. Right now, though, with a knife sticking out of his chest, he had other things on his mind.
“Sore loser,” I responded, yanking the blade out and leaping to my feet. “Come on. Again.”
“This is a poor substitute for shagging,” he grumbled, rising and frowning at the rent in his shirt. “You’ve ruined it.”
“I told you to just take it off.” With a shrug.
Ian grinned at me. “Ah, but I thought you only wanted to enjoy the goods, poppet.”
He’d kept up a steady stream of comments and innuendoes designed to throw me off my game. I didn’t take it seriously. I knew it was just how he operated.
“Keep talking, pretty boy. It only makes your silent moments better.”
That drew a laugh as we circled each other. Ian’s eyes glittered with expectation. He loved a nasty brawl. It was one of his admirable qualities.
“Find me pretty, do you? I always knew it. Alas, Reaper, we’d have had a grand time of it before, but you had to marry Crispin. Now you’re off-limits forever, but it would have been fun. Very fun.”
“You never stood a chance, Ian.”
He ducked the knife I flung at him with another dirty chuckle.
“Poor aim, sweet. Missed me by a meter. Still chafing at the thought of how easily I could have bedded you before Crispin came back into your life? Do you really think you could have resisted me for long if I’d set out to have you?”
Arrogant bastard. I charged at him, but Ian sidestepped me at the last instant. Too late I knew I’d made a mistake. His foot swept out, his fists followed, and I was knocked off-balance. An elbow crashed into my back. It dropped me to the floor with him right on top of me. He yanked my arms back, bending them the wrong way, and his mouth latched onto my neck.
“One flick of my fangs and your throat would be torn open,” he murmured before releasing me. I flipped over, wincing, to find him staring down at me with objective triumph.
“Temper, temper,” he said. “It’s both your weakness and your strength.”
I scrambled to my feet, moving slower from what had to be broken bones in my rib cage. My rotator cuffs were hyperextended as well. They burned almost as much as my ribs. “One out of three, Ian. I wouldn’t be so quick to brag.”
“I knew I’d beat you eventually,” he countered. “Everyone makes mistakes, given enough time.”
I heard footsteps approach, and my mother came into the room. She looked at the haphazardly rearranged furniture, at me, then at Ian.
“Catherine, how long are you going to be bashing around down here?” she asked.
“Aren’t you going to say hallo, poppet?”
Ian fairly purred the question. I mouthed wordless dire threats to him over her shoulder. He just grinned at me.
She ignored him, my irregular breathing registering to her. “Are you all right, Catherine?”
Two could play the taunting game over her. For effect, I wheezed noisily.
“No I’m not. Ian broke my ribs.”
“Tattletale.” He smirked, knowing what I was doing.
Instead of being overcome with concern, she tapped her foot.
“You shouldn’t have let him get that close. Maybe since you quit your job, you’re losing your edge.”
Son of a
Then the television stuffed into the far corner of the room turned on. I glanced around in confusion, expecting to see some newcomer with a remote control, when Ian let out a curse.
“Bollocks.”
“Huh?”
He grasped my arm with one hand and my mother’s with the other. My protest was cut off with his next muttered words.
“Dawn. Why does every ghoul feel the need to attack at dawn?”
Ian propelled us out of the room and up the basement staircase. From every corner of the house, people were coming out of their rooms and the TVs were on. Not blaring, just set to low volumes. It hit me then what the synchronized powering of the televisions was. An alarm. A subtle one.
“Who’s attacking?”
“Can’t stay and chat about it,” Ian ground out, rounding the next corner to nearly collide into Bones. “Ah, Crispin. Feeling frisky, I trust? It promises to be a busy morning.”
“So it does,” Bones said, landing a heavy hand on my shoulder. “You’re coming with me, Kitten. Ian, take her mum below.”
“Wait.”
I tugged at one of the knives on Bones’s belt. He was wearing several. Maybe this wasn’t so unexpected after all. “My ribs are fractured and I’ve got some torn ligaments. You’ll have to give me blood so that doesn’t slow me down.”
Ian let out a mocking grunt. “I won’t wait to hear the rest of this.”
“Nor should you,” Bones shot back. “Kitten, this way.”
He ignored the knife I held up and drew me up to the third level of the house. At first I thought he had weapons waiting for me. Or protective gear, Bones was big on me wearing that. But when we entered the bedroom and he pushed an unseen button in the closet, revealing a small room I hadn’t known was there, I understood.
