Chapter Forty
FRANKLY, I PREFERRED Sarah’s solo body to her integrated self. At least the body only talked if it had something to say. But Posy Simon disagreed. The cat was so excited to see her old owner all in one piece, she nearly knocked herself out bonking her head against Sarah’s shin.
FPMP Midwest was putting them both up in a fancy hotel until Sarah could get on her feet again. I didn’t think places like that took cats. I guess when the government asks firmly enough, rules can be broken.
Once the cannery was free of cats (and Sarahs), Jacob and I found ourselves suddenly alone, with an air mattress cluttering up the dining room and stale popcorn scattered across the floor.
My inner neurotic Spartan immediately wanted to set things back to normal.
Not because I actually needed to see a psychic threat—I was still getting the occasional whiff of burnt sage from the most recent cleansing—but because in my mind, a predictable space had become a safe space.
Which one of my subtle bodies was responsible for that fine idea?
Jacob dumped out the emergency litterbox and tromped the bag of clay out the door.
Belatedly, I registered that he was doing things just a bit too loud while saying absolutely nothing.
Every clatter of plastic, every swipe of the broom had a little extra force behind it, like he could obliterate the whole week if he just scrubbed hard enough.
He was strung so tight, he even managed to sweep popcorn like it had personally offended him. I was halfway to making some smart remark about overkill when he turned, and I caught sight of the stun-gun hickey on his neck, red, angry, and glistening with ointment.
I didn’t need empathic skills to read the room—this was not a time for cracking wise.
I eased up to him and reached for his hand on the broom, folding my fingers around his. He’s got good hands. Strong and solid. And most importantly, familiar. Even clenched in a fist.
“Hey,” I said softly.
He sighed.
“Are we okay?” I asked him.
He turned to look at me, and his eyes were so full of emotions: anguish and disbelief, pain and hope. Good thing he was so psychically contained. Otherwise, all those feelings he felt might spill over and engulf us all. “I hated this assignment,” he said. “Every minute of it.”
“But we did a lot of good.”
“Maybe.” Jacob turned to fully face me. I took the broom from him and leaned it against the entertainment center so I could ease my arms around his waist and pull him close.
He cupped my cheek and traced his thumb beneath my eye.
Beside it, the bridge of my nose still stung.
“You should put ice on this. It’s starting to bruise. ”
And now I had a shiner? Well, as long as it only left marks on the outside, I’d recover.
When I double-checked the floor, it was right where I expected it to be, so I pretty sure the SPECs hadn’t done any permanent damage.
“Look, Jacob, it’s not like anyone but us could have put Sarah back together. ”
“That’s not what I mean. Keeping things from you—it’s brutal. I was scrambling to stay one step ahead. And there were so many times I thought you were onto me. But it was the only way I could protect you from National.”
I noted that he didn’t come right out and say he’d lied to me.
And if he thought it was necessary, he’d do it all again.
I knew exactly who I’d married. As far as he was concerned, the ends justified the means.
I couldn’t fault the logic. I was the only one who could wrangle the subtle bodies.
He was the only one who could face an empath and keep his feelings to himself—to the point where Evelyn had pegged him for a psychopath.
In short, neither of us had screwed up. We were just following the instincts that made us who we were. By different methods, sure. But our goals were the same.
To do the right thing. To make things right.
“All those meetings with Laura,” I said. “She was the one who set you on Evelyn. Does she know—?”
“Only that I’m a Stiff.”
Well, that was reassuring. “But if she trusted you with something so delicate…what’s with the ‘satisfactory’?”
Jacob gave me a rueful grin. “Apparently mediocrity is the best way to stay off the radar.”
Which was exactly why I never insisted on being reclassified any higher than I already was.
Jacob’s smile quickly faded as the pad of his thumb whispered over my blackening eye. “Tell me something.”
I resisted the urge to avoid the harsh intimacy by being glib. “Okay.”
“When the veil appeared, back in the apartment, there was something wrong with it, something really wrong. But you were never in any danger. Right?”
I swallowed down the memory of that cold, black void sucking at my spirit like it could swallow me whole, and I thanked my lucky stars that Jacob wasn’t a telepath. “None.” And when he gave me a skeptical look, I added, “None at all. It was there for Sledge. Not me.”
He pressed his forehead to mine and his breath shuddered with relief. “I couldn’t stand the thought that you might’ve—” He choked up.
How in the hell could anyone think he didn’t have emotions?
“C’mon,” I said, “it’s fine. We’re fine. It’s over.” I hated seeing how bad he’d been hurt—and knowing his concern for me was wounding him. “And you never know. If I did lose a subtle body, maybe it would be the one that’s the biggest pain in the ass.”
I’d been trying to lighten the mood…and it backfired spectacularly. Jacob grabbed me by the shoulders and forced me to look him in the eye. “Every last thing that makes you who you are is precious to me. I love all the parts of you.”
Had anyone but Jacob tried that line on me, I would’ve laughed them out of the room.
But the earnestness in his voice felt almost too raw, and the only answer that seemed remotely deserving of him was to lean in and capture his mouth with mine.
I kissed him—slow and sure. The kind of kiss that told him without saying a word that he was as much a part of me as any of the fragments rattling around inside.
Probably the best part—the part that feels steady and sure.
The part that always pulls me back to myself.