Page 14

Chapter

Thirteen

T he trip from the forest borders to Jasmine's vineyard felt like an eternity compressed into minutes.

Mia's lungs burned as she pushed her body harder, faster, the familiar landscape blurring past in smears of green and brown.

Her hand found Jim's as they ran, fingers interlacing without thought or hesitation.

"She'll be fine," Jim said between breaths, his thumb stroking over her knuckles even as they maintained their brutal pace. "Jasmine didn't survive vampire cases for the SLE by being easy to kill."

"She's not invincible," Mia shot back, but squeezed his hand tighter, drawing strength from the contact. Memories flashed—Jasmine's rare vulnerable moments, the scars she never discussed. "I should have been there. Should have?—"

"Hey." Jim tugged her hand, pulling her attention to him even as they ran. "You can't be everywhere. She knows that."

The tightness in Mia's chest eased slightly at the understanding in his eyes. How did he always know exactly what guilt was eating at her?

They broke through the tree line together, Vines & Soul Resort spreading before them. Everything looked deceptively normal, but Mia's senses screamed danger. The metallic tang of spilled magic made her wolf bristle.

"I smell it too," Jim murmured, shifting closer as they sprinted across the parking lot. His body heat against her side was both comfort and promise—I'm here, we're together, we've got this.

Bertram stood at the entrance, his calm cracking at the edges. Beatrice paced nearby, hands weaving protection spells.

"Where is she?" Mia demanded, not slowing.

"Inside. Unharmed."

The knot in Mia's chest loosened, but Jim's hand on her lower back steadied her when her knees went weak with relief.

"Then what?—"

"It wasn't a physical attack." Jasmine appeared in the doorway, disheveled but whole. "It was a message."

"What kind of message?" Jim asked, but his attention was on Mia, reading the tension that still thrummed through her body. His hand moved from her back to her waist, anchoring.

"They left a device," Jasmine explained. "Magical explosive. Still active."

Cold dread washed through Mia. Jim's arm tightened around her reflexively.

"We can't find it," Beatrice added, voice high with stress. "It's cloaked, moving?—"

"How much time?" Jim cut in, already shifting into protective mode, positioning himself between Mia and potential danger.

"Unknown," Jasmine said tersely.

Without thinking, Mia dropped to a crouch, pressing her palms to the ground. She felt rather than saw Jim move to guard her back, his presence a warm shield while she made herself vulnerable to track.

"That's my girl," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear. "Show them what an alpha can do."

His faith in her sent warmth flooding through her chest. She closed her eyes, letting her wolf rise, sorting through scents with newfound focus. His presence behind her wasn't a distraction—it was an anchor, allowing her to dive deeper without fear.

There. Something cold and wrong, blood magic that made her wolf recoil.

"The cellar," she said with certainty, eyes snapping open to find Jim's hand already extended to help her up. "Where the wine is stored."

"I checked there," Jasmine protested.

"Trust her," Jim said firmly, his fingers interlacing with Mia's again. "When she gets that look, she's never wrong."

The pride in his voice made her heart skip. She squeezed his hand as they moved through the resort, down into the cool darkness of the wine cellars.

"Wait." Jim pulled her against him suddenly, his grip almost painful. His pupils were dilated, that look she recognized as his power stirring. "Let me?—"

"Jim, no." She turned in his arms, hands framing his face. "You're still weak from earlier?—"

"I can do this." His forehead pressed to hers, sharing breath. "Controlled slip. Quick look. I'll be right back."

"You better be," she whispered fiercely. "You disappear on me again and I'll follow you through time just to kick your ass."

His laugh was shaky. "Noted." He kissed her, quick and desperate. "Count to thirty."

The air shimmered. He vanished.

Mia counted heartbeats, nails digging into her palms. Beside her, Beatrice made worried noises while Jasmine watched with professional interest.

Twenty-eight. Twenty-nine?—

Reality folded. Jim stumbled back into existence, and Mia caught him before he could fall. His skin was clammy, body trembling, but his eyes blazed with triumph.

"Third rack," he gasped against her shoulder. "Behind the 2018 reserves. False panel."

Jasmine was already moving. Mia held Jim upright, her hands running over him, checking for damage even as he directed Jasmine to the hidden panel.

"I'm okay," he mumbled into her neck. "Just need a minute."

"You have ten seconds before I carry you out of here," she threatened, but her hands were gentle as they stroked through his hair.

The panel clicked open, revealing a glass sphere filled with pulsing crimson. The wrongness of it made everyone recoil.

"Blood bomb," Bertram identified. "Vampire assassination tech."

The sphere's pulsing increased, emitting a high whine.

"Everyone out. Now," Jasmine ordered.

"We're not leaving you," Mia snarled.

"We need to go," Jim said quietly, tugging her toward the stairs. "Trust me."

Something in his tone—knowledge gained from his slip—made her relent. But she stayed pressed against his side as they climbed, supporting his weight when he stumbled.

Outside, Jim pulled her into the courtyard. "I have to go back," he said urgently. "Watch them disarm it, memorize the sequence?—"

"Jim, you can barely stand?—"

"I can do this." His hands cupped her face, thumbs stroking her cheekbones. "For Jasmine. For you. Let me protect our family."

Our family. The words sent her heart racing.

"Be careful," she breathed. "Come back to me."

"Always." Another kiss, deeper this time, pouring promise into the contact. "Always."

He stepped back, concentrating. The air distorted. He vanished.

This wait was agony. Mia paced, Beatrice's nervous chatter white noise. Time stretched, elastic and cruel.

Then—a fold in reality. Jim crashed back into existence, and this time his knees buckled completely. Mia caught him, lowering them both to the ground, cradling him against her chest.

"Cellar," he gasped. "They did it. Tell them—sequence is—" He rattled off numbers and terms that meant nothing to her but everything to their survival.

Beatrice ran to relay the information. Mia stayed with Jim, her fingers checking his pulse, smoothing his hair, unable to stop touching him.

"You beautiful, reckless idiot," she murmured. "You're going to give me a heart attack."

"Worth it," he mumbled, turning his face into her palm. "Everyone's safe?"

"Thanks to you." She pressed her lips to his forehead, tasting salt and exhaustion. "My hero."

"Don't let Matthews hear you say that," he said weakly. "Might damage my bad boy reputation."

She was saved from responding by Jasmine and Bertram emerging, exhausted but triumphant. The blood bomb in Jasmine's hands was dark, inert.

"Thanks for the disarming sequence," Bertram told Jim.

Jim managed a wan smile. "Time travel and detailed memorization don't mix well. Too much history crowding my brain."

Mia helped him stand, keeping her arm around his waist. He leaned into her, no longer pretending he didn't need the support. The trust in that simple act made her throat tight.

Matthews chose that moment to arrive, of course, looking pristine and unruffled. His gaze zeroed in on how Mia held Jim, something cold flickering in his eyes.

"It appears we missed all the excitement," he observed. "Though I'm pleased to see everyone unharmed."

Jim straightened with effort, trying to stand on his own, but Mia kept her grip firm. She wasn't letting go. Not for Matthews, not for anyone.

Matthews moved forward, then suddenly yanked Jim aside. The motion was so fast Mia barely registered it before Matthews had pulled Jim away from a decorative trellis.

"Careful," Matthews said smoothly. "Vampire poison thorns. Nearly invisible. You wouldn't want to brush against one accidentally."

Jim stared at the thorn, then at Matthews. Mia's wolf snarled at another alpha touching what was hers, even in rescue.

Matthews released Jim's arm, stepping back with that perfect smile. "No need to thank me. I simply want a fair competition." His gaze hardened. "Can't beat you if you're dead before the final challenge."

The threat hung in the air like smoke. But Mia had already moved, inserting herself between Matthews and Jim, her hand finding Jim's and holding tight.

"How fortunate you noticed it," she said coldly. "One might wonder how you knew exactly where to look."

Matthews' smile widened. "One might," he agreed. "But then, I notice many things. Like how Mr. Miracles seems rather... depleted. These blood incidents do take their toll." His gaze flicked to their joined hands. "Good thing he has such devoted support."

"The best," Jim said firmly, his fingers tightening around Mia's. "Something you'll never have, Matthews. Fear and power might win you territory, but they'll never win you loyalty."

"We'll see," Matthews murmured. "We'll see."

He walked away, leaving them standing together, hands clasped, united against whatever came next.

"Did he just save me to threaten me?" Jim asked, swaying slightly.

"Pretty much." Mia turned to face him, her free hand coming up to cup his cheek. "How are you really?"

"Exhausted. Dizzy. Probably need about twelve hours of sleep." He leaned into her touch. "But everyone's safe. Worth it."

"You're worth it too," she said fiercely. "Remember that."

His eyes softened. "Starting to believe it."

"Good." She rose on her toes, kissing him softly. "Because I'm not letting Matthews or anyone else touch what's mine."

"Yours?" His smile was tired but genuine. "When did that happen?"

"The moment you came back," she admitted. "Maybe before. Probably always."

"Always," he agreed, and sealed it with another kiss while their friends politely looked away and Matthews' car disappeared into the distance.

Whatever game Matthews was playing, whatever the vampires wanted, they'd face it together.

No other option existed in her mind anymore.