Page 44 of Cruel Revenge (Jacky Leon #12)

CHAPTER THIRTY

HASAN

H asan spent the drive quiet, listening to Subira and Zuri speak on the many ways the witches could be protecting the location and how they wished to deal with it.

He wasn’t fascinated by it, but it didn’t annoy him, either.

He liked listening to the ladies. Subira talking was a comfort, a balm on his soul.

His eldest daughter was as well, in her own way.

She had been his daughter for so long. He had done many great and terrible things so she could breathe free air.

He found all his children comforting on most days.

Most. He hadn’t lied to Heath. His exhaustion with his children was any father’s exhaustion.

The deeper feelings of knowing he had gotten to watch his little girl grow up to have these sorts of discussions with her mother… Those feelings kept him sane.

He even found Davor’s clicking keyboard a wonderfully repetitive sound, his son in his element, deep in a world Hasan understood, but wasn’t connected with.

Technology was a necessity to him, but to Davor, it was like he had finally found himself in the right time.

Davor had been born centuries earlier than he should have been.

He was glad his son finally had things that challenged him mentally. He found the sounds of that comforting.

Hasan needed to revel in the good things, or he’d be lost to the painful parts of life.

It was the way everyone had to live. Everyone woke up every day, facing terrible prices to be paid in the game of life, but they paid because the sunlight was warm on the skin, or the people around them were treasures, or they loved the role they played.

The hardest thing about life was making it through cold and terrible nights. Now, he was watching the sun rise on a winter morning.

“You are a poet sometimes,” Subira whispered to him, just a fleeting comment. She turned back to Zuri and continued that conversation.

I love you, too.

She threw him a smile at that thought and continued to listen to Zuri’s idea about how to break through potential defenses.

The drive continued, and he tried not to think about it, but a thought continued to linger with him. It had all night.

I have a granddaughter.

He wanted to meet her. Officially. Properly. And hopefully, not mess it up like he did with every grandson.

My first granddaughter.

Subira’s hand squeezed his knee, the silent touch telling him she was very much tracking his every ebb and flow, his thoughts as personally as she could.

She knew he loved his girls. From his mate to his daughters and now a granddaughter.

He loved his sons and grandsons, without a doubt, but he was weak to the impressive might of the women in his life.

He tried to fight it on multiple occasions when he felt he was right, but it never worked. Oftentimes, it went disastrously wrong.

Women brought life. He knew better than to argue with that, and yet, he still tried time and time again, a glutton for punishment. A fool challenging the mightiest of powers.

He’d met a god once and been unimpressed.

He was left stunned by the women around him more times than one could ever count.

That old bitch has my granddaughter.

He rubbed his neck, trying to work out the anger from that thought as Davor stopped typing and looked over at him, the quick scent of his son’s fear reaching him before Zuri’s. Subira squeezed his knee harder.

“Sorry. I was lost in a thought about the witch having Carey,” Hasan explained.

“You never talk to me about your time with her,” Subira said, her words like a wall of dark clouds, deeper than normal, and threatening a storm on the horizon.

“And I never will,” he said simply, the one line he refused to ever allow Subira to cross. The thoughts he guarded. The things he refused to think about.

“And I’ve always respected that and never pried, verbally or magically,” she said. “But now might be the time.”

“Not in front of the children, it’s not,” he countered.

“They are adults. We both know that. They know that.”

“They are still our children.” And he wouldn’t let his children know his pain beyond the bits he had already shared. He wasn’t giving those to anyone. He was past them, but that didn’t mean he wanted them in the world for others to whisper. He didn’t want to see their faces when they learned.

He didn’t want to see Subira’s face when she learned.

He knew none of it was his fault. None of it was his choice. He had confidence in that. He knew none of them would try to claim otherwise.

It changed nothing when it came to the idea of telling anyone.

Subira studied him, both physically and mentally. He felt it, like a caress in his thoughts. If he closed his eyes, he could be there, alone with her. He could show her.

“That’s enough. Please,” he whispered.

“Okay.” Subira dropped her hand and pulled her mind and magic away from his mind.

“We’re nearly there, anyway,” Zuri said, swallowing. “Wouldn’t have time for a long discussion.”

“Yeah…” Davor agreed in the passenger’s seat. “Heath and Landon have beaten us there, so we’ll be right in it once we park. Dirk and Niko with that werewolf are right behind us, about five minutes back.”

“And Jacky?” Hasan asked, deciding to think about his youngest. She was alone. She was the one who needed the support.

“Um…” Davor started clicking, then the smell of his shock filled the car. Zuri and Subira’s worry spiked. Hasan waited.

“Davor?” he inquired gently, leaning forward.

“I… can’t find her location,” Davor said slowly. “Her phone might have died, or she could be in a dead zone. I’ll keep an eye on it.”

Hasan leaned back, hoping Davor was right.

“There’s nothing we can do until we’re all together, and we won’t panic right now,” he said simply.

“You’re right,” Subira agreed, but her hand found his knee again, and this time, it was for her comfort, not his. Five thousand years together, one could learn the difference. “The finicky modern technology fails sometimes. We can’t rely on it all the time.”

“Thanks, Mother. I’ll remember not to rely on it too much,” Davor said, chuckling lightly, clearly using his mother’s adverse thoughts of modern tech to attempt to lighten the mood. “It does fail and can be rather finicky even on good days.”

“Okay, I see where everyone is parking,” Zuri said a few minutes later.

When the vehicle stopped, Hasan was able to get out first and offered a hand to his mate, helping her out behind him.

Zuri and Davor went straight to the werewolves mingling outside.

As Hasan walked there with Subira, some looked at him and her, clearly curious, probably not from the Tribunal, where they could see him often.

Or they were but never saw him with her, the woman he ruled the world for.

Everyone knew of and probably met one or two of his wild children, but Subira was so rarely seen.

He saw her all the time, but others? Many supernaturals thought of his mate as a myth.

She had been out of Africa more in the last few years than she had in the centuries since the Tribunal was formed.

“Why did we drive?” Subira asked softly. “I just thought about it.”

“We needed the vehicles and to give Jacky time, since she is coming from Dallas. It also gave them a chance to prepare a hub here for us that was secure away from humans, and they could do that more easily than we could. We took the slower way to give them a chance to be more helpful, which will be good for our chances of success.”

“Always the warrior thinking of these things,” she said, reaching up to brush her fingers along his jaw. “Everyone thinks of you as just a politician now, but they don’t know you.”

“No one knows me the way you do,” he reminded her softly, ignoring the werewolves, knowing if he was truly uncomfortable with them seeing this, she would pick up on that and not do it.

But he refused to feel uncomfortable about loving his mate in front of anyone .

Plus, she gave them a good warning. He was a warrior before he was ever a politician or ruler. He was killing long before any of them existed, and it was best they all remembered that.

I was a warrior before I was a werecat, even. Most of my fuzzy human memories are with a spear in my hand.

He’d long stopped thinking about his human life, but her words brought some of those fuzzy memories back.

He kissed her hand and led her in, knowing Davor and Zuri were already inside.

She waved at the werewolves mingling, who all tried to duck their heads, whether in bows or trying not to meet her gaze.

He was fine with either. They didn’t deserve to look her in the eye. Sometimes, he wished he could enforce that with everyone so only he could see her face and keep it for himself.

Her humor at his thoughts made him share a smile with her.

Once inside, the humor was gone. Heath was already directing werewolves on what gear they would be wearing and who needed to be Changed in case teeth were needed instead.

Zuri and Davor were looking at large maps on a table.

As he and Subira got closer, they heard another vehicle.

He turned a moment later to see Davor coming in with Niko, and behind them, the disabled Ranger.

Hasan had respect for that. Most moon cursed didn’t last long with such an injury, but he moved well, and he outranked Dirk.

Hasan did wonder why he was here, but then the wolf started barking orders.

“I need comms set up twenty minutes ago, not as I walk in, damn it!” Ranger snapped at two werewolves. One growled at him, and Ranger snarled back. “Don’t fucking try me. I’ll beat you unconscious with this fucking prosthetic if I have to.”