Lion's Share

“Why?” I frowned down at the page, then studied her face again, convinced I’d see more there than she would say aloud. “Why would you even want to print this, much less keep it?”


She glanced at the floor, obviously struggling to put into words an idea that probably hadn’t even been clear when she’d first thought it. “I need to remember why I’m doing this. I can’t afford to forget what will happen if I get sloppy or careless. If they catch me.”

She’d needed to keep the threat fresh in her mind, because the passage of time breeds complacency. Given enough distance from them, we start to forget how badly pain hurts and how scary fear feels, and when that happens, we lose our edge. I could understand that.

But… “You’re not in this alone.”

“I know. That’s the problem. They’ve already killed several toms, including one of your enforcers.”

Leo. We’d found his head stuffed and mounted on the wall of the cabin the hunters had lured Abby to with her human roommate as bait.

“After they get me, they’ll go after someone else. If they can’t get me, they’ll go after someone else. We can’t let that happen. I can’t let that happen.”

Did she think killing the first three hunters made their entire sick club her responsibility? “Abby, you can’t hold yourself at fault for what the hunters do. This is my territory. I’m responsible for killing them and catching the stray, and I will never let any of them near you.”

“I know you won’t.” She stared up at me, and her eyes were swimming with an overwhelming mix of fear, trust, and determination.

I pulled her into a hug. The printout floated to the floor, face down. “They’d have to go through all of us to get to you. Luke and Isaac included.”

“I know.” She laid her head on my chest. Moisture soaked through my shirt from her damp curls, and suddenly I was humiliatingly aware that she was still pressed against me. Half naked. “But I need to remember that I’m capable of defending myself. You need to remember that too.” The warmth from her breath made my heart beat harder.

“I’ve never forgotten.” I inhaled the clean scent of her hair and my arms tightened around her, pressed flat to her warm lower back. “I saw what you did to those hunters. That’s why I offered you this job in the first place.”

“Bullshit.” She pulled away to frown up at me, and I felt the sudden distance as if the earth had split between us. “You offered me a job because you didn’t think I’d take it.”

“That’s not—” But I bit off the lie, determined not to insult her with it. “Okay, that’s true, but I meant the offer as a compliment. I wanted you to know that I saw what you were capable of, and that I respect the skill. You’re this fierce little ball of fur and claws, and I pity any idiot who goes up against you.”

Her frown deepened. “That makes me sound about as vicious as a hissing kitten. I’m not a child, Jace. That was the point of keeping the stupid printout.” She knelt to pick it up, and her forehead furrowed when her gaze focused on the image. “Sick bastards…”

“Hey.” I pulled the paper from her grasp. “I’m not going to leave your side until we’ve buried the last of them in at least a dozen shredded pieces.”

“You’re going to stay with me every minute?”

“Every single”—agonizingly platonic—“second.” My tongue suddenly felt thick and clumsy. “I swear I will be with you every second of every day, until everyone in the world who wishes you harm is dead and buried. And I know you’re not a child.” She’d made that very clear. But it didn’t matter, because Abby was Brian’s fiancée, and I could not take another man’s fiancée.

Even if she clearly wanted to be taken.

I had alliances in place, people dependent upon me, and responsibilities to uphold, and just because Abby obviously didn’t understand the consequences of what she was asking for didn’t mean I could ignore them.

“Do you know?” She bit her bottom lip, and I couldn’t have looked away if a tornado had ripped through the cabin at that very moment. “Prove it.”

There she went, playing a woman’s game again, and suddenly, I was certain I was going to lose, even with the wisdom of hindsight on my side. She was an adult, and I was an adult, and she wanted me, and I wanted her, and was there really anything else that mattered?

I was starving for a taste of her, and a starving man can’t think straight. A starving man is a mindless force driven by impulse and need, and at that point, a starving man would have made me look rational and patient.

You won’t be able to take this back, a voice whispered from deep in my mind as I bent toward her. That voice was right. Abby wasn’t a temporary scratch for a casual itch. Alphas and tabbies do not hook up. They get married, and start families, and run territories.

But Abby was already taken. If I touched her again, I’d be crossing a line I’d sworn never to even approach again.

Yet the moment my mouth met hers, all the warnings and consequences faded into blissful silence. There was no longer room in my head for anything but Abby.





EIGHT


Rachel Vincent's books