The Wolf's Surrender

CHAPTER 17



Jenner sat slumped at the bar, completely disinterested in the plate of eggs over easy and hash browns that Rowdy had slid under his nose maybe ten minutes before. Now it was cold, and he was even less interested. All he could hear around him was the low and comfortable chatter of his fellow wolves after a hunt. Everyone knew the woods had suddenly come alive with Shadowkin last night, vanishing even before they needed to be chased off.

He was the only one who knew why.

He glared at the well-oiled wood his plate rested on, knowing the others would sense his mood and leave him be. He’d hoped the running, the chase, would help clear his head some. It hadn’t, though. Instead of focusing on the fading scent of Jeff Gaines, all Jenner had been able to see in his mind’s eye was Mia, glowing like a candle and so full of power that it was impossible for her not to have known she had it. The memory of it played over and over in his head, violet light slicing through the air, her eyes on fire. She’d drawn them. They’d fed off of her, leaving her so weak that he doubted she was yet awake. Aislynn was watching the house...from a distance this time, on his orders.

For a terrifying few minutes last night as he’d watched Mia, he’d been sure he was going to end up with another woman’s blood on his hands. That he’d look into her eyes and see a dark and twisted thing that had eaten her alive, and would have to act accordingly.

But drained though she’d been, she was still herself. Even if he was no longer sure just who that was.

She’d been beautiful. A little frightening. And full of the kind of magic he’d sworn he’d never go anywhere near again. She wasn’t just a Shadowkin target—and no goddamned wonder they wanted her so much. If she wasn’t a half blood, she was close.

She was a walking weapon of mass destruction. And she wouldn’t need a single Shadowkin to destroy everything he loved.

Except she wouldn’t. Mia wouldn’t do something like that, and you know it.

He didn’t, though. Not anymore. When a woman who’d professed to be human started throwing fire from her fingertips, all bets were off. Whether or not her intentions were malicious—and somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to believe they had been—she’d only barely been in control.

And she’d been lying to him about herself this whole time.

Though he would only admit it to himself—that was probably what had cut him worst of all. He’d laid everything out for her. He’d told her things he didn’t share with anyone. And she’d kept this, and everything that went with it, to herself until it had nearly blown up on all of them.

Maybe she just didn’t trust him. Or maybe she had some other, darker reason. Either way, it came to the same.

With all the dark thoughts swirling in his head, he barely noticed the tall, lanky figure settling in beside him on an empty stool. Bane’s voice, low and smooth, sliced neatly through his thoughts.

“What’s with the brooding? Did she throw you out already?”

Jenner looked up to glare balefully at the Alpha, ready to engage him if a fight was what he was looking for. Bane only looked curious, however, so with a little bit of effort, Jenner let it pass without a fist to the nose. Still, though he’d been waiting to have a word with Bane, this wasn’t how he would have preferred to start the conversation.

Actually, he didn’t know how the hell to start the conversation.

“No,” he finally allowed, the only answer he could think of. Bane snorted softly.

Jenner sucked in a deep breath, then let it go. “I think we’ve got a problem, Bane.”

Bane’s cautious smile quickly hardened and vanished. “Well, shit. What’s up?”

“The woman is a stone-cold liar, for one thing.”

Now the Alpha just looked confused. “Mia? Are we talking about the same person? I can usually sniff out liars, Jenner, and she—”

“—is obviously very good at it,” Jenner interjected. “She hasn’t been straight with us from the start, Bane.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Bane asked. “Spit it out.” Then his eyes shifted to a point over Jenner’s shoulder and narrowed. “Or maybe I’ll just ask her myself.”

Jenner closed his eyes as her scent flooded him, provoking an almost dizzying sensation of hunger and need in him. He only wished he could convince his body it didn’t still want her, but that was going to take time. And time alone was something it seemed he was about to come into again.

He turned and saw her standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the daylight. He would have known her without even looking at her, he was so attuned to her presence now. But he didn’t anticipate the way her beauty just sliced right through him. Man, she had it down. The worry in her eyes, the nervous way she scanned the darkened room. Then her eyes caught his, just for an instant, and he swore he heard a faint echo of her voice in his head.

I’m sorry. Please, it’s not what you think.

Surprised, angry, he shoved the intrusion away. Was getting into his thoughts just another trick she hadn’t mentioned was in her arsenal?

“She looks worried,” Bane said. “And upset.”

“Yeah, she should be both,” Jenner returned, cursing Aislynn, who had to have brought her here. He turned his head away to stand and push the stool in with an angry little shove.

He saw the doubt in Bane’s expression, and it only fueled the fire of anger that had been on a slow burn all morning.

“You don’t believe me?” he snapped.

“I want to know what she lied about before I decide what to do about it. Jesus, Jenner, what do you think she did? I can smell guilt a mile away. It’s part of my job. There’s a little of that on her, but most of it is plain old anxiety. That and a hell of a lot of sadness. You sure about this?”

Rather than answer, Jenner did what he’d always done in his position as Lunari. He went on the attack rather than wait for an ambush. In just a few steps, he was standing in front of her, staring down into a face that looked drawn and pale and, yes, sad and anxious. Still, even now, the loveliest face he had ever seen. Doubt, never a friend of his, tried to creep in, but he quashed it ruthlessly.

You don’t even know her. The woman is Unseelie, for Christ’s sake. You asked her point blank if she knew why Gaines was chasing her, and she lied. She could have killed someone last night with the firepower she was carrying inside herself. If she’d hidden all this, what else was she hiding?

“Can I talk to you?” she asked quietly.

“Sure,” Jenner replied. The sound of it must have been sharp, because he saw a hint of a flinch before Mia squared her shoulders again. He tried to stop himself, but last night was still too close...his eyes roamed her hungrily, drinking in the way her jeans and sweater hugged her curves in all the right places. Curves he’d memorized already with his hands, his mouth...

“Alone, I mean,” Mia said, sliding an uneasy look around the bar.

“What, is there not enough light for you? Afraid you’ll start to glow in the dark here, too?” he asked, the words falling from his lips before he could think better of them. And he’d spoken far too loudly. All conversation stopped, all heads turned toward them. He could feel them watching, listening, waiting for any sign that his tension meant it was time to attack.

But attack was the last thing on his mind when he saw the hurt in Mia’s dark eyes. And not just the hurt—a weary resignation that told him she’d expected some of this...and had maybe even been through it before. One of many things she’d kept to herself, if so, Jenner thought, steeling himself. But he couldn’t stop the guilt from coiling through him at her answer.

“No,” she said. “I learned a long time ago how to stop that.”

He bared his teeth. “You could have stopped that last night? So you did know what you were doing.”

Mia sucked in a breath and shook her head. “No! I didn’t want you to get hurt. I’ve never let go like that, I...I thought I could do it on my own.”

She sounded so sincere. He wanted to believe her, with an intensity that actually hurt. But he’d trusted her, and she’d damn near blown up the woods.

“You made them stronger,” Bane growled.

Mia’s face fell. “I didn’t know it would happen. I was only trying to help. I...” Her voice dropped. “I wanted to protect you.”

He could only stare at her. Protect him? It wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. But what he knew of Mia—what he thought he knew of her—it made a twisted sort of sense. Frustrated, angry, he could only growl. His emotions hadn’t yet bothered to translate themselves into words. Mia stepped into the void between them.

“I’ve always had magic. I know I should have told you, but I was taught to hide it. I was raised thinking I was something awful and wrong. I know that doesn’t excuse me, but it also doesn’t change the fact that I’m exactly the same right now as I was before you saw me last night. Would knowing what I am have changed anything?”

Sympathy stirred, but he brushed it aside furiously.

“I don’t know. You didn’t give me a chance to make that decision. You lied to me. To all of us. You’re telling me that what I saw last night was you trying to fight about fifty Shadowkin by yourself, using something you don’t even know how to control that ended up backfiring. That tells me you’re either lying again, or you’ve lost your damn mind.”

Now he saw the flash in her eyes. Hurt, he supposed, and anger. Good. Maybe it would make it easier to break this off clean, before he got any closer to falling. She wasn’t for him. He’d known it from the beginning. Why had he fought that? She was something he couldn’t fathom...and his need for her, even now, was something he couldn’t control.

“I’m not crazy,” Mia said, her tone clipped. “Inexperienced, yes. You want the truth? My father was a half blood Unseelie. My mother had light fae blood, though it was more diluted. They were killed in a car crash when I was very young, and I was raised by my grandmother, who never let me forget that I should never have been born. Tainted, she called me. And for a long time, I believed it.” Her eyes were so haunted, so wounded, that for a moment Jenner saw a reflection of himself. He didn’t want it, that connection. Didn’t want to understand, to sympathize when her omission could well have placed them all in grave danger.

Mia looked around, her tone softening slightly when she spoke. “Then I came here, and met all of you. You embrace what you are, even though there are people who think you’re just as tainted as I was raised to believe I was. I started to think maybe...”

She trailed off, then gave her head a short, angry shake. To his horror, Jenner realized Mia was close to tears. “I’m sorry to have to do it this way. I was taught to hide my...my gift, I guess...from when I was very young, but...it doesn’t always stay under wraps.” Her laugh was bitter. “I wanted to do my part, to stop the things that hunt both of us. So I used what I had, and it was exactly what they wanted. I would never hurt anyone. I never have hurt anyone. Except you,” she said more softly to Jenner. “I broke your trust, when I know that’s the one thing you’re probably not going to be able to forgive. I just...I just wanted you to see who I was, instead of what I was. I didn’t want to lose you. Not to them. And not because of this.”

She stepped back, and once again she was incandescent, glowing with a silvery light that made her beauty look moon-kissed. Jenner felt his breath die in his throat despite himself. This was still Mia, but more. She’d become the fantasy Mia he’d already imagined her as—Diana, Goddess of the Hunt. There were gasps all around him. Mia held out one hand toward him, palm cupped. Within was a pulsing ball of light.

He felt as though she were holding his heart instead. And if she closed her fist around it, it would break him in a way even Tess hadn’t been able to.

How had he let it go this far?

Mia watched him closely. Even her voice, when she spoke, seemed shot through with magic. Whoever had taught her to hide this side of her had done it well. But again, when he began to wonder what such suppression had cost her and felt the tug of sympathy borne of his own long experience with his father, Jenner forced himself to push it away.

“You told Tomas I was just like everyone else,” she said. “And I am. I’m still me. This doesn’t change me. I think—I know I can learn to use what I was born with in a way that will help. But I can’t change this.”

“Mia.” Bane’s voice was surprisingly gentle when he appeared at her shoulder, touching her with a soothing hand. “Stop. It’s a surprise, but it’s not the end of the world. We’ll figure it out. You’re still one of us now—”

“How can you say that?” Jenner snapped, stunned that Bane could be so recklessly casual about this. “She lied about this, God knows what else she’s lied about! You don’t know what she’s going to turn into! What she could do!”

“Jenner,” Bane said, more sharply. “This is not Tess. Mia is nothing like Tess. If you really can’t see that, then you’re not only a jackass, you’re blind.”

“Please,” Mia said softly, taking a step toward Jenner. Only a single word. But she was asking for everything. And right now, he couldn’t see anything but what had come before. He’d let his guard down once, and people had died. So had a piece of himself.

He couldn’t risk that again.

“Whatever you think,” she said quietly. “You’ve got the real me. The magic is just...extra.”

“I figured out a long time ago that I can’t believe something like that just because I want to,” Jenner replied, every word twisting like a knife in his heart. “I can’t risk it. I just...can’t.”

“Jesus, Jenner,” Bane growled, pulling his attention back to the fact that they had an audience. “Mia, look, I’ll take you back to my place. You haven’t hurt a soul here. You’ve got the benefit of my doubt, even if you don’t have his.”

Mia nodded, but her eyes, so big and dark, were only for him. He could hear her in his head, as intimate as a caress.

“It meant so much to me.”

“I can’t,” he said hoarsely, hating the fear in his voice. Knowing, even now, that it wasn’t her he was afraid of.

“All right. I’ll go get my things. But I want you to know...” She trailed off, then simply shook her head.

“Bane is right. I’m not Tess, Nick. I’m just Mia. And for the last time, whether you believe it or not, I’m sorry. I trusted you, too. I might have been afraid, I might have made a mistake. I just didn’t think it ought to matter. I didn’t want it to matter.”

He didn’t know what to say. He needed time, damn it. He needed to sit with this until he was doing more than just reacting, sitting here nearly mute because all he could do was feel. So much of him wanted to just grab her and hope that holding on was the right thing. But he had his own kind of shadows in his past.

“Come on,” Bane said. “I’ll drive you out to his place and we’ll get your things. You can bunk with me until everything is sorted out.”

“No. I’ll drive,” Jenner interjected, surprising both of them. He didn’t know why he said it. But he didn’t question the instinct. Damn it, why couldn’t he ask what he needed to ask, say how he really felt? Why hadn’t he taken her someplace else to begin with?

Hurt, confusion and anger all mingled into a toxic stew. And still, he couldn’t allow anyone else to watch over her. Not yet. Not until he’d said his piece, too. And the words wouldn’t come until they were ready. Bane gave him a warning look.

“I need to do this,” Jenner said. “I have some things to say. I need a few minutes.”

“You don’t have to,” Bane told her.

“No,” Mia said. “It’s fine. I’m not afraid of him, no matter how he feels about me.”

Then she turned on her heel and headed for the door, head high. Jenner watched her go, and for the first time in years wondered whether he was trying to protect his pack, or himself.

But from the way he felt right this moment, plenty of damage had already been done.

* * *

He sat quietly in the corner of the living space in his cabin, legs splayed out on front of him. The curtains were drawn, blocking the sun that shone outside. He wanted no more to do with sunlight after this, Jeff decided. Only night, and darkness.

At least it was quiet now. He’d sent Pete and Jay into one of the neighboring towns for supplies. Sy was slinking around in the woods, imagining himself as an all-powerful night creature and waiting for Jeff to meet him. Sy, he would need to drug soon, while the others were gone. Blood was needed to begin the ritual—a lot of it would be, by the time the night was through—and those with the fewest brains got to be first in line. The man was stupid enough for it to be easy, at least.

Oh well, Jeff thought. He’d be giving his life for the noble cause of bringing a new age of darkness to this world.

And Troy...well, he wasn’t exactly sure where Troy had gone. He hadn’t been in the cabin when they’d all gotten up yesterday. His things were all still in the room the men were sharing, including his wallet, a fact which had caused some amusement among the others as they’d divvied up the cash inside. They seemed to think he’d turned tail and run away. Jeff doubted it, but that was nothing the others needed to know.

If they understood, they would likely run too. They thought he meant to give them power. But really, what he’d needed was their muscle, their ability to go where he could not and pass for sane. Maybe they would be rewarded with a new life, or maybe they’d simply be chewed up and spit out, drained in the Shadowkin’s impending feast. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care. His moments of lucidity were fewer and farther between now. He could hear echoes of Mia in his head all the time, talking, laughing, weeping. He dreamed of his mouth on hers, her blood on his hands. Was it real? Was anything, anymore?

At least none of the others seemed to have heard the soft and questioning whispers in the dead of night, echoing through the woods. But he did. He heard the shadows calling to one another, gathering.

Jeff knew he and his men were being watched, had been watched since their arrival. His dark friends were making sure he did what he was supposed to, that he stopped screwing up. As long as nothing else went wrong, he himself had been promised safety, immunity from what was to come. The fact that the Shadowkin had, in all likelihood, lured one of his men out to be feasted upon was a little irritating. Still, better Troy than him. The rest were expendable.

For now he rested, saved his strength. Went over the words he’d memorized by heart, ancient words, given by a dark figure with red eyes. And dreamed of shadow.