Page 10

Today was anything but brotherly, and I’d wanted to kill Raines when I’d watched him touch her. Well, looks like this is convoluted. Has Mael got any more secrets?
Well, I’m done with secrets and holding back.
All the reasons for not touching Selene have evaporated. She’s old enough and strong enough to handle Pack Dread.
“So, Baby Sel grew up,” I murmur.
“And she hates us,” Mael flops down on the couch. All our furniture is cheap and secondhand. I hate it already. All our actual furniture is in storage, waiting for us to return to our rental.
“She’ll forgive us,” Kingston says with a grim grin. “She never could stay mad at us.”
I’m not so sure. I can suddenly and clearly remember her expression the day we left. She was devastated.
“She’s going to make us bleed for it,” I murmur. “Selene has always made us bleed for it. That’s nothing new. This job shouldn’t take long. Find the Tiger, unmask and kill him, and then take our places where we belong.”
The words that were so comforting a day ago leave a bitter taste in my mouth today. Yes, leaving.
Not seeing her for seven more years.
I’m not sure that’s my idea of a good plan anymore. In fact, if I’m reading the bonds right, none of us agree with that sentiment. We lied to ourselves because we all thought she’d be gone or with a pack. She’s not, and she’s still here.
I rub my cheek where she hit me, remembering the moment I turned and saw her. She was like the hottest flame, blazing blue, fury in every line of her body. Those skin-tight jeans hugged her legs, the white singlet barely contained her breasts. I couldn’t believe it was the same girl we left behind.
That girl wore baggy jumpers all the time and loose pants. She had jet black hair and was as wild as the rest of us. She was just one of the boys, one of us.
Until she wasn’t.
It’s funny. She was good enough to hang out with us and do what we did. We never worried over her breaking a nail or skinning a knee. We didn’t protect or coddle her; we taught her to kick ass and tackle her problems face on.
She wasn’t a damn femme fatale when we left.
Was she?
“She’s leaving again.”
I jerk my head towards Mael. “What?”
“She’s going out.”
“But it’s three in the morning.”
Mael flicks me a look that has a dozen different snarky comments he doesn’t need to say.
“Are we following her?” Mael grumbles, annoyed at him.
“I will,” Kingston volunteers and races for the back door. “You apparently moonlight as a stalker for someone else.”
Mael sits on the couch beside me and drops his head in his hands, letting out a harsh groan. “I can’t talk about the job, you know that.”
We’re silent, and I neither offer him comfort or a tongue lashing over it. But it does create problems. But that’s for tomorrow when we’re not so tired.
“Memories coming back?” I ask in concern.
He nods his head. “I’ll be fine.”
I kneel in front of him and put my hands on his forearms, over the scars. Shade bounces up on the couch and looks at us both. He lets out a rumbling purr. I know Mael will never admit it, but Shade’s presence and purrs have comforted him in ways Kingston and I cannot.
I never, ever want to go through that again. We’re all messed up from the three weeks Mael was held captive. As soon as we found him, we stormed the place they were holding him with a rage that bordered insanity.