Clarke #3
“We all care about Charlie, but he’s your dad. You need to be directly involved rather than waiting for news. I would have done the same thing myself. Someone here was involved in what happened to Charlie,” Jace said with scowl, echoing some of her own thoughts.
“Maybe. The clue could be anything,” Clarke said. She was glad Jace understood why she had to do this herself, and wasn’t angry that she hadn’t confided in him or his dads about the vision.
“And you applied for the job because you’ll have access to the entire campus,” Jace guessed. “I’ll help you. We can search the offices together today before the rest of the faculty arrive.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Clarke said. “This is the best time to do it.”
Jace was a few feet away from her now, close enough for them to speak normally, but still giving her space. Now that she was over most of her shock, Clarke was relieved that she wouldn’t be doing this alone.
“My mind has been going in circles since Dean Stanhope sent that email,” Jace said.
“I was already planning to search the campus, knowing you had to have a serious reason to pretend to be a man and upend your life to get a job here. At least now I know why you didn’t call or text.
Do you trust me to search the main entrance and the guardhouse? ”
Jace wasn’t sure she didn’t suspect him. As children, they’d been friends, but hadn’t seen each other in eighteen years. Maybe that was why he was keeping his distance. Clarke was mostly focused on his question, however.
“You think we need to check the guardhouse?”
“Your vision showed the entrance of the college. As you said, the clue could be anything or anyone on campus. But I do want to check it out so you can cross that off the list,” Jace said. “I trained most of the security personnel here, and know them well.”
“If I wander around, chatting up the guards, they might think it odd,” Clarke said. “But you can talk to them without generating curiosity. Yes, I trust you to do that.”
It was a good idea that made sense. Her vision might have shown the guardhouse rather than just the placard for a reason.
Jace looked relieved. “You’ve been so strong through all of this, and now you’re pretending to be someone you’re not. I can’t imagine how stressful this has been. Can I hug you?”
Clarke felt like she was barely hanging on most days, but was moved that Jace thought she was strong. Having that emotional support here, where she thought she’d be alone, surrounded by strangers and possibly enemies, was priceless.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” she said, and met him halfway when Jace stepped toward her.
Clarke had never felt so safe as she did with his arms wrapped tightly around her. Damn, did he give good hugs. She could live here.
They stood like that for a couple of minutes, just holding each other. Then, Jace pulled back a little, to rest his forehead against hers. It was sweet, affectionate, and unassuming.
Clarke felt a zing, then warmth bloomed from the point of contact down her body. She’d heard it described dozens of times, but experiencing it was different. It was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.
Her breath stalled in her throat as Jace froze. Jason Smith was her mate. Of all the people on the planet, the boy who had bandaged her scrapes, cheered all her endeavors, and played tag with her, was her forever.
Something about that was fitting. Clarke was thrilled to have found him. Here and now, under the current circumstances, though, it really complicated things.
Clarke leaned back without stepping out of his embrace, to gauge his reaction to this new development. Jace’s expression was one of awe, and undiluted joy, easing her worries. He wasn’t horrified, the opposite, in fact.
Before her eyes, a black line appeared on his left pectoral, peeking past the edge of his tank top. Mate marks could appear anywhere on the body, which had been one of her concerns. They would need to hide this from the staff to prevent intrusive questions.
Clarke felt hers forming on the outside of her upper right thigh. Jace could wear more concealing shirts. An acute sense of relief swept through her that neither of their marks had manifested in places that would be impossible to hide. This was manageable.
Unable to help herself, Clarke reached out to trace Jace’s mark with her index finger. It was intricate, looking like a Celtic knot pattern. The mark was an outline that would fill in when they accepted the bond.
Jace placed a hand over hers, and moved the fabric of his shirt to the side, so she could see all of it.
The mark reminded her somewhat of a flower petal, wider in the center and coming to a point at both ends, with flowing, interwoven lines on the inside.
It was about three inches long from end to end.
Having Jace here had already changed everything. Now, there was the mate bond to factor in. They would have to figure out how to spend time alone together, both to plot, and keep his wolverine from getting fractious.
But they would have to be careful. Clarke pushed that out of her mind for the moment. She had a mate, and trusted help to find her dad. Both were a blessing.