swarmed in, pushing both visitors out into the hall. Rueben’s firm grip steered the dazed Shifter prince into a small waiting area. There, he dropped onto a convenient piece of furniture, senses spinning.
“Here. Self-medicate.” The Tennessean pressed a sleek flask into Colin’s hand, waiting for him to take a long swallow. “You up to talking? Looks like we got the time,” he presumed as the staff wheeled Mia past for tests none had ever guessed would be needed.
“Did you do this to her?”
The fierce demand set Rueben back in unprecedented speechlessness. Finally, he sputtered, “What? She’s my kin!”
“And a threat!”
“To what? A role I never wanted? You think I’m stupid enough to tear down all we’ve built when we got a bigger threat breathin’ down our necks?”
“Not unless you’re part of that threat.”
A low, rolling chuckle was unexpected. “You must be concussed if you think I’d just come out an’ tell you if I was.”
That Colin believed. Shoulders drooping, he blew out a shaky breath. “Sorry. Long night.”
A flash of sympathy touched Guedry’s expression. “Since you’re not going nowhere, I’m gonna check myself into that fine establishment ’cross the way and fetch us back something to eat. Might as well hunker down an’ wait for news together.”
Alone in the suddenly quiet hallway, Colin leaned back and closed aching eyes, but thoughts refused to quiet. Refusing to revisit that dream, he let MacCreedy’s list scroll behind shuttered lids, seemingly endless in its thorough offering of potential suspects. Missing only one that, even though he hated it, he had to consider after their conversation earlier that evening.
Alain Babineau.
– – –
During their rainy drive home in silence, Max couldn’t ignore the wake-up call the other couple’s tragedy leveled upon his own situation.
He’d never asked to be a figurehead for his clan. The near celebrity attention sparked intrinsic fear, demanding a retreat to the anonymous shadows of his earlier years, where at Jimmy Legere’s back, nothing had been expected of him except obedience and unquestioning action. His opinions, his beliefs, his choices never entered the equation. A simple, linear existence well-suited to a sheltered upbringing beneath the constant whisper of unknown threat. Then Charlotte Caissie blew into his life like a Category Five. She’d uprooted his security, ripped away his self-protections to demand he choose between impossible opposites. Darkness alone or limelight together.
No real choice in the end. One he’d never regret making anyway.
He might not always agree with her path, but Max honored her right to boldly walk it, just as she’d cautiously embraced the knowledge of who and what he was. If they could overcome those obstacles . . .
A child was hardly an obstacle and a clan war no small threat. To handle either, let alone both, they needed a united front, a single purpose. Considering all they’d survived together—the sacrifices, the triumphs—why hadn’t they found that common ground?
He breathed her in, seeking the comfort of her scent to ease his worries as she sat silently beside him. It usually worked. Not this time.
Her badge a shield to hide behind, it wasn’t the job, though she might pretend it was. Her work distracted from something deeper, something that scared her more than their varied commitments and causes. A faceless, nameless enemy was impossible to defeat.
The deeper question, the one that scared him to the marrow was why she didn’t trust him with the truth?
They’d just started along the high wall surrounding Legere’s property when Cee Cee’s cell buzzed. Immediate alarm surged. Bad news on the Terriot front would have rung through his phone. Her business was calling.
Terse words stirred a different worry.
“When? How? Wasn’t he under surveillance? What the hell were they doing instead of their jobs?” A tense pause then the words he dreaded. “On my way.”
As agitation twisted those expressive lips, Max waited for her to speak. Finally, she put it plain. “I’m gonna drop you off. I’ve got to go back into the Quarter.”
Concerns writhed through him as he pictured the strong, vital female they’d just left in a hospital bed, her features mentally altering to those of his beloved as he’d once sat waiting for her inevitable death. It hadn’t come, not that day.
Heavy gates opened automatically. Cee Cee tore down the drive, screeching up to the porch without putting the vehicle into park. Her words gave no comfort. “Don’t wait up. Not sure how long I’ll be.”
The vehicle was moving before he had both feet on the ground. Forward momentum slammed the door shut for him.