Chapter 22
Day two of Horseman Hell Boot Camp was worse than the first, and in Mace’s opinion, it wasn’t even close.
Ares, wearing his hard leather armor and astride his blood-bay warhorse, Battle, had been waiting for them when they arrived.
In retrospect, it should have been the first clue that their day was fucked.
Ares didn’t release his stallion from his arm and go full Horseman unless he was planning to make someone regret all their life choices.
His hawklike gaze had unnerved them as they assembled in front of the warhorse, and by the time he asked them why they were there, they’d been as jumpy as a hellrat in a hellhound den.
Their bumbling, stuttering responses had only pissed Ares off.
“We had a bad day.”
“We, uh, screwed up.”
“Kynan is overreacting.”
“But we’ve learned our lesson.”
“Enough! If you can’t tell me the truth,” he’d growled, in his deep, uncompromising voice, “I’ll beat it out of you.”
And, sure as shit, he’d made good on his threat. Their day had been divided between sparring with the Memitim in five-on-three battles that forced them to work together and obstacle courses designed to force cooperation.
They’d started off well. When they arrived, everyone seemed ready to cooperate.
The tension between them had been nearly non-existent, even if they weren’t exactly joking around and back to normal.
Still, for a couple of glorious hours, they’d fallen back into the familiar groove, fighting as one highly coordinated and efficient machine.
Then Mace noticed the way Blade hovered near Scotty, taking ridiculous chances with his body to block strikes meant for her.
And naturally, instead of taking the noble high road, Mace had gone full, pothole-laden low road, stepping in to take more blows meant for Scotty than Blade.
Eventually, she just stood there, glaring at them while they played punching bag.
Shit went downhill from there.
And when the grueling training session ended, they’d collapsed to the arena floor, not caring that the sand and dirt beneath them had been churned into sticky mud by sweat and blood.
“You guys should be ashamed.” Ares towered over them, looking no worse for wear after four solid hours of going against the three of them by himself.
By. Him. Self. “Get your shit together. I mean it. Because every time I even sense a crack in your teamwork, I’m going to add an hour to your sessions, and with the way you’ve been going, we could be here for days straight. Got it?”
“Fuck.” Mace fell back onto the ground and stared blankly at the multicolored twilight sky.
“See?” Ares said. “He gets it.” Then he smiled down at Scotty. “Love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you too, Daddy,” she moaned.
Laughter hung in the air, and heavy footsteps reverberated on the ground as Ares strode away. Sadistic prick. Mace loved the guy, respected the hell out of him, but he didn’t always like him. Right now, for example.
Mace felt the familiar warmth of Blade’s palm come down on his chest, and a heartbeat later, healing energy surged through him. Tavin had healed them all twice today, but Ares hadn’t summoned the guy after their last round. Mace was too exhausted to wonder why.
“Thanks,” he said, genuinely grateful. Although Blade always healed them as best he could after a battle, this time felt...different. “Why’d you do that?”
“Tavin didn’t come. No doubt it’s a test of teamwork. Ares probably wants to see if I’ll do it.”
“Ah.” That made sense. It was also a little disappointing.
“I don’t hate you, Mace,” Blade said softly. “Things might be shit right now, but I could never hate you.”
Startled, Mace looked up, saw pain lurking in his buddy’s shadowed eyes. “Same,” he croaked. “Same.”
“Guys?” Scotty came to her feet with a wince. “Maybe now would be a good time to talk.”
Agreed. Mace glanced around, suddenly uncomfortable in the middle of the arena, exposed to anyone with exceptional hearing. “Not here.”
“Let’s go back to the compound.” Blade offered Mace a hand, and Mace didn’t hesitate. They locked their grips, and Blade pulled Mace to his feet.
Despite the new camaraderie, shit was a little awkward as they headed to the Harrowgate. They entered in silence, programmed the thing, and exited through their private gate.
The walk to the main building was just as silent. Inside, Rade and Crux were playing in the soundproofed game room, and Sabre was still at work, so they had the living room to themselves.
Naturally, now that they were somewhere they could talk, they just stared at each other. Fuck. This needed to be settled, and it needed to happen now.
“We can’t keep going like this,” Mace said. “We’ll be dead by Wednesday if we have to keep this shit up with Ares.”
“Wednesday?” Blade snorted. “Tuesday by noon.”
The brief moment of amusement gave Mace a reprieve from the tension that had been pressing in from all around him. Around all three of them. They’d been stewing in a damned pressure cooker for days, and cracks were forming. It wouldn’t be long before things went critical.
Then Blade got all serious again and ruined it. “I talked to Sabre yesterday.” He hooked his thumbs in his bloodstained pants pockets. “He thinks maybe we need some time apart.”
“Dad said something similar,” Mace called out as he fetched them water from the fridge. When he returned to the living room, he passed out the bottles. “I don’t know how that’ll help, though. It’s not going to change what happened.”
“Well, we can’t take it back,” Blade said. “So, we need to learn to deal with it.”
“I need to learn, you mean.” Mace swore. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what? You’re the one who said you were cool with it, when you really weren’t.”
“I meant it when I said it,” he snapped. “But it turns out I’m not, okay?” Reining in his anger, he continued, a little calmer. “I know I shouldn’t have accused you of being careless with your injections. That was a dick move. But you’ve been weird, and don’t you dare deny it.”
“What?” Blade stared at him. “I haven’t been weird.”
“Yes, you have,” Scotty said, backing Mace. “We all have.”
Blade looked like he was going to argue, but a few heartbeats later, he blew out a breath and looked down at the floor. “Scotty? Do you regret—?”
“No!” Scotty took his hand, and a flare of jealousy heated Mace’s chest…until she grabbed his hand too. “I love you guys, and I would do anything to save your lives. We can never have regrets about that. But we do have to find a way to move on.”
“I just don’t think spending time apart is the answer.” Mace concentrated on the feel of Scotty’s warm hand in his. How right it seemed. And yet, it was so wrong. “I know this is mostly my issue. I get it. But if I’m alone, it’s just gonna fester inside me. It’s what I do.”
For a long moment, no one said anything.
“Lore suggested time apart, right?” Blade asked. “Did you talk to Wraith?”
Mace laughed. “You don’t even want to know what his solution is.”
“I’m willing to try anything if it’ll help get us back to where we were,” Blade said.
Anything? Okay, challenge accepted. Blade was so going to regret saying that. “He said I should sleep with Scotty and then we’d be even.”
Man, he couldn’t have dropped a bigger bomb if he’d been in command of all the world’s nuclear arsenals.
Silence lingered in the aftermath. Scotty didn’t look as stunned as Blade did, but her cheeks burned crimson beneath the smattering of freckles.
She took a deep breath and blurted, “Aleka said something similar.” When Blade’s head whipped around to her, she closed her eyes and took another bracing breath.
“Look. Maybe Aleka and Wraith are onto something. This all started because Blade and I slept together. Maybe we can fix things if Mace and I do the same.”
Mace’s heart thudded against his ribs so violently he was sure they both heard it. He’d considered Wraith’s idea, but more as a fantasy long shot than as part of any tangible reality. It hadn’t occurred to him that Scotty might think it was a genuine solution to their predicament.
No one said anything for so long that Mace started counting Mississippis in his head. He got to nine Mississippis when Blade finally spoke up in a voice so devoid of emotion that he must have used the silent stretch to suppress everything he felt.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Oh, what a fucking surprise,” Mace muttered under his breath.
Anger flashed in Blade’s eyes. “Don’t be a di—”
“Hey,” Scotty snapped, cutting off Blade and glaring at them both.
“This is exactly why we need to do something. You’ve never fought like this.
You’ve never been jealous of each other about anything.
You’ve shared everything from your darkest secrets and fears to holidays and females. This won’t be any different.”
It was so different.
“No way.” Blade swung around to Scotty. “You don’t throw gas on a fire you’re trying to put out.”
Mace’s temper flared as he pictured the heat between Blade and Scotty as they went at it in the Alaskan wilderness. “So, you’re saying what’s between you and Scotty is a fire?”
“You know that’s not what I’m saying.”
Mace stared in disbelief, his brain recalling the sight of Masumi in Blade’s room, her coloring so closely resembling Scotty that there’d been no doubt about Blade’s kink.
Then there was the way he looked at Scotty.
And it wasn’t just since they’d returned from Alaska.
Mace was only now realizing how far back Blade’s crush on Scotty went.
“Do I?” he asked. “Do I really know that?”
Blade glanced away.
Yeah, you know what I’m talking about.
“Scotty,” Mace said, trying to keep his voice steady, “are you sure?”
She nodded, and for a split second, excitement and joy made his heart leap. He hadn’t admitted it until this moment…but he loved Scotty. He’d just never allowed himself to think, even for a heartbeat, that his feelings went deeper than friendship.