Page 37 of Shadow Boxed (Shadow Warriors #2)

Chapter thirty

O’Neill braced himself. Would she be horrified that they’d scuttled the ship and taken dozens of innocent lives? Warriors, indeed anyone in military roles, were required to take a ruthless, pragmatic approach to life and death. Decisions, by necessity, favored the greater good.

Muriel came from a warrior family. Her father, uncle, brother, and son had been active warriors of the Hee'woo'nee , but she’d never experienced the harsh realities of a warrior’s life.

That wasn’t to say she hadn’t experienced sacrifices.

She’d lost her uncle and then son to a warrior’s death, but she carried no responsibility for their deaths, and thus no guilt.

The choice over who lived and died came with a toll.

A tax on the spirit and heart. It didn’t matter whether the life taken was an evil one; choosing their death hardened the spirit.

Deliberately sending innocent lives to the land of their ancestors carried an even weightier toll, one that drained the soul.

“That’s terrible,” she finally responded, but her voice was thoughtful rather than horrified.

Her reaction brought his gaze to her face. There was no condemnation in her eyes. Horror was absent as well. Had she not understood what he’d said?

“Everyone on board the Chinook agreed the Harbinger needed to go down.” Well, except for the southern squid, but that wasn’t important right now.

“We couldn’t chance the ship being boarded or the crew making it to shore.

If the bots got off the vessel, the battle for Hokalita was lost .

” He paused, before adding deliberately, “We all agreed, but Wolf made the final call. He was the one who ordered the missile strike that sunk the ship and its crew.”

She needed to know what a cold, pragmatic bastard Wolf was. Not that he disagreed with Wolf’s decision. Hell, he’d shared it. But then he was a cold, pragmatic bastard too.

Huh...looks like he had something in common with Wolf after all.

“I can see why you all reached that decision…” Muriel’s voice trailed off.

She still didn’t look upset by the destruction of the Harbinger. He frowned. “You don’t seem concerned by the actions we took.”

A startled look flashed across her fac. “Why would I be? Wolf wouldn’t make that decision lightly. There were no other options available.”

Frustration flared. Wolf again. She trusted in her hero...was certain he’d made the right—hell, only—call. Another example of her lifelong devotion.

“Here’s the thing though,” she continued, her eyebrows wrinkling beneath her frown.

“A choice like that would destroy Gracie. She has a soft heart. Taking so many innocent lives—” Muriel broke off with a slow shake of her head.

“Gracie would agonize over a decision like that.” She fell silent, that earlier thoughtful expression settling back on her face.

“Perhaps we can use that example, that terrible choice, to…dissuade…her from pursuing the life of a warrior.”

Well, that explained her thoughtful expression. While he understood her drive to keep their daughter safe, he doubted the Harbinger’s fate would change Gracie’s mind. Their daughter was committed to the pursuit of a warrior life.

Besides, there were other things to consider. “It’s still unclear why Gracie was given a warrior’s totem. But if the elder gods expect her to join the warrior clan, there is little we can do to stop it.”

Muriel sighed. “I’m still hoping the claiming was a mistake…or…that it doesn’t mean what Gracie believes. Perhaps the Ho'cee was gifted for another purpose.”

O’Neill shrugged. The elder gods didn’t make mistakes. Besides, he’d promised to teach their daughter self-defense. He refused to break that promise.

“Will you tell her about the Harbinger?” Muriel asked.

“Prepare her for such difficult choices if she insists on pursuing this path?” When O’Neill didn’t respond, her expression turned pleading.

“If I warn her of what’s ahead for her, she’ll ignore me.

But she needs to be aware of what she’s facing. You need to warn her.”

She was right. The first life and death choice was a steep step, one that, if not taken carefully, could lead to an unexpected trip to one’s ancestors.

“I’ll talk to her.” O’Neill finally promised. “Has she manifested her spirit gift yet?

Knowing what talent the Ho'cee had gifted her would help with her training. And point to her role in the Wanatesa.

Muriel’s lips twisted. “I haven’t seen anything. Nor would she share her talent with me if it has manifested.”

O’Neill studied her face. Beneath the stoicism, he could sense hurt and confusion.

“Still no progress on bridging this distance between you?” he asked quietly.

“No…” She hesitated, tucking a swath of thick black hair behind her ear.

O’Neill’s gaze lingered on her hair. On the silky shine of it.

He still remembered the feel of it against his skin, the sensual caress as it slid over his—he shut the memory down.

But it was much harder to shut down his cock’s response.

He shifted uncomfortably, hoping she hadn’t noticed the rise of his shaft within the crotch of his tactical pants.

“While we’ve never been close, there was never anger between us until recently.

Just indifference. And her indifference wasn’t just with me.

It was with everyone. My parents, her schoolmates, her teachers.

She kept everyone at a distance. She had no friends growing up.

All her interests were solitary pursuits—like reading or computer stuff.

The only person she connected with was Daniel.

I used to worry about that. I’d encourage her to make friends. She always said Daniel was enough.”

O’Neill digested that. “And now Daniel is gone, and she has no one.”

Muriel swallowed hard and nodded. “After all these years of not connecting with anyone other than her twin, I’m not sure she knows how. Although…” Her eyes narrowed. “She reached out to you.”

O’Neill considered that, thankful to feel the swelling subside in his crotch.

From Muriel’s description of their daughter, Gracie’s instant acceptance of him was a surprise.

She’d told him within minutes of their first meeting about her spirit claiming.

Something she hadn’t even told her mother. That’s when something occurred to him.

“You know,” he said slowly. “Regardless of the lone wolf metaphor, wolves are pack animals. They are rarely alone.”

“True.” She raised her eyebrows.

“Generally, solitary people are not claimed by a pack animal spirit.” O’Neill offered. Which was true, although he had no clue what that meant in Gracie’s case.

He’d been jie'van his entire life. An outcast. Solitary by choice and circumstances. His heschrmal claiming fit his reclusive nature. The mountain lion was also a solitary creature. Yet, Gracie, who was almost as isolated as he was, had been claimed by a pack animal spirit.

“By no means can Gracie be described as a pack animal,” Muriel agreed after a moment of silence.

“No. She cannot.”

They both considered that.

“What do you think it means?” Muriel finally asked, a worry darkening her eyes.

“It may mean nothing.” O’Neill admitted. “We won’t know until Aiden speaks with our shadow Taounaha .”

From the frustration flashing through Muriel’s eyes, she was not a fan of the wait and see approach.

“You said solitary people are not chosen by pack animals. That fits you too, doesn’t it? You were such a loner in high school. And then you were chosen by the heschrmal, a solitary animal.”

O’Neill shrugged. They both knew the answer to that question.

“You said that your spirit gift was looking into another’s mind…seeing what they saw…hearing what they heard. Your look into my mind steered you wrong,” She layered emphasis over the last three words. “But this gift must be useful for a warrior.”

He grimaced. “Not as much as you’d think. I have to be touching the subject to see their thoughts.” Like I was touching you. Although he kept that reminder to himself. “Getting close enough to touch enemies during battle is not a recommended strategy.”

Her laugh was soft and fleeting. “But beyond battle. Like with interrogations. It must have come in useful then.”

“I never used it until I landed here, on base.” He admitted. “I was a collector of information and a tracker of targets for my previous…employer. I didn’t interrogate targets. I never interacted with them at all.”

“But in your collecting of information, didn’t you run across situations where your talent was useful?” she asked.

“Nope.” He kept his voice casual to avoid broadcasting the lie.

Of course, he’d run into situations where his ability to read minds would have been useful.

Two things had stopped him from using it.

The first was what he’d seen in Muriel’s mind during their teenage tryst. The second was Benioko’s warning not to use the gift in front of his woohanta superiors.

Benioko had told him that using his gift outside of the Hee'woo'nee risked exposing his talent to the Woohanta, and they would seize his gift and him for their own purposes.

When he’d joined Benioko at Shadow Mountain, the Taounaha had told him when his gift was needed—like in Russia, with Kuznetsov.

But he’d brushed Benioko’s orders aside because Wolf and Samuel had both been in the room at the time.

To do what Benioko had instructed would have exposed his gift to those who were sure to question it.

Mock it. Mock him. Nobody, apart from Benioko, knew about his spirit talent.

Neither Wolf nor Samuel had believed his heschrmal claiming. Why would they believe he could read minds?

“So, you’ve never used your spirit talent? Other than that time with me?”

“I’ve used it a couple of times here, at Benioko’s request,” he admitted. Which was true. But he’d done so in secret, away from disbelieving eyes.

What would she say if he told her how he’d ignored Benioko’s orders in Russia, because he’d thought he knew better? Because he thought Wolf and Samuel had already gotten everything they needed from Kuznetsov, and he didn’t want to open himself to ridicule?

A knot twisted his gut. If he’d done as Benioko instructed, he would have seen how dangerous Kuznetsov’s mistress was. He might even have seen the lipstick poison and saved Daniel’s life.