Chapter 14 #2
Her shoulders squared.
Elijah stepped forward, positioning himself between her and her commander. The gesture was a protective one. And undeniably challenging. She didn’t need a shield with Syre, but that didn’t stop her throat from tightening over Elijah’s willingness to be one for her.
Himeko stepped up behind her Alpha, her smile too damn intimate for Vash’s tastes. “Does your room have two beds, El?”
His gaze never left Syre’s face. “It does, yes. It’s open to whoever wants it.”
Vash fought with herself, wondering if he’d reject her publicly if she jumped at the chance to share a room with him. She didn’t get the opportunity to find out.
Himeko pounced first. “I’ll room with you. I know you don’t snore.”
Vash scowled. How the hell did she know that?
“Come on, then.” Elijah gestured down the hallway. “We need to crash. We’re gonna have a hell of a morning in a few hours.”
Which, Vash suddenly realized, was why she needed to be with him so badly.
She’d very nearly lost him once. Every minute she wasn’t with him was a minute wasted.
The fact that she even thought of her time with him in those minuscule terms was telling, considering how long she’d been alive and how much longer she had yet to live.
Needing something else to focus on, she turned to clean up the mess she’d made. Damn it. The poor bastard inside was probably hurt really badly. She’d hit him with the thought that he was a lycan and therefore could take the force of her strength.
“I took care of it,” Syre said grimly. “His wounds are healed, but he’ll have a hell of a headache.”
Wincing, she nodded. “Thank you.”
“Take care of that door,” Syre ordered Raze, before collecting Vash’s bag from the ground and grabbing her by the elbow to steer her away.
The door to their room hadn’t yet shut behind them when Syre went off. “What the hell are you doing, Vashti?”
Her spine stiffened at his icy tone. “I don’t… I don’t know.”
“You’re a mess. You’re a danger to yourself and everyone around you.”
Her chin lifted, accepting the hit. She was hungry, hurt, bewildered… “I am, yes.”
Cursing, he shoved a hand through his hair. “And I can’t do a fucking thing about it besides stick close and clean up after you.”
Guilt humbled her. He had so much on his plate. He needed her running at one hundred percent. Everyone did. “I’m sorry.”
Syre looked at her, and she winced at the torment in his eyes.
“No, I’m sorry. After all the times you’ve been there for me…
all the ways you’ve helped me over the years…
the fact that I can’t do one goddamn thing to help you is killing me.
You’re falling apart, and I can only stand here and pick up the pieces. ”
“Samyaza.” She didn’t realize she was crying until she felt the wetness on her cheeks.
He opened his arms to her, and she walked into them. Fisting her hands in his shirt, she poured out her confusion in a storm of tears.
Vash entered the motel’s restaurant at eight thirty in the morning and found the lycans eating breakfast. John and Trey sat in one booth, Elijah and Himeko in another.
The striking beauty was laughing at something Elijah had said; her sloe eyes were bright and her smile warm.
When she reached out and set her hand over El’s, Vash knew they’d slept together at some point in their history.
The bruised feeling in her chest bloomed with a deeper pain, and her claws extended, piercing her palms. Sucking in a deep breath of courage, she did what she’d come to do.
She approached Elijah’s table, meeting Himeko’s gaze when it lifted to hers. “Beat it.”
“Excuse me?”
“Get lost. Take a hike. Go away.”
The lycan visibly bristled. “Now, just a minute—”
“Himeko.” Elijah’s calm, quiet voice settled the matter. “Please excuse us.”
Himeko looked at him, searching his face for something. With a jerky nod, she grabbed her plate and shot Vash a look of pure unadulterated malice.
And they were supposed to fight alongside each other today. Terrific.
Vash settled onto the vacated bench seat and kept her clawed hands clasped under the table.
“That was rude,” he said, slicing into a slab of ham and shoving it into his mouth. “They want to kill you enough as it is. Stop making it worse.”
“She wants you.”
He swallowed. “She’s had me.”
Jealousy dug its green talons into her, shortening her breath.
“Not recently,” he qualified, “and not seriously.”
“It wasn’t enough for her.”
“It was for me. We had a mutual itch, and we scratched it. End of story.” He dumped a pat of butter onto his hash browns and mashed it around. When she didn’t say anything else, he asked, “Was there something you wanted?”
“You look tired.” His eyes were dark and shadowed, his sexy mouth bracketed with deep grooves.
“Do I? You look drop-dead gorgeous, as always.” He delivered the compliment in so dry a tone she couldn’t take it seriously.
“I’m sorry.”
He looked at her then, arching a brow when she didn’t elaborate.
She exhaled in a rush. “I should’ve made a greater effort to tell you about the plan to pair you with Raze.
I didn’t think you’d like it, and I chickened out instead of arguing with you.
Later, when the plans changed, I avoided the argument altogether by burying it.
Trying to bury it. I apologize. I’m not proud that I was a coward about it. ”