Chapter 33
The Bird Goes Over The Edge
TAURUS
I’ve been waiting for Rafe to get back for damn near a half hour. When the hour got later and the storm got worse, he told us he was going out to search for our mate again. I didn’t like it, but he said he’d be back in thirty minutes.
Well, the goddess and I are waiting; goddamn it, where the hell is he?
“Taurus, stop pacing, you’ll wear a furrow in the rug.”
“Shove it,” I growl.
It isn’t fair. The minx shouldn’t do this to us. If she needs time or space, she should talk to us. Don’t leave us all hanging, waiting like idiots as we worry about her and the baby. Whatever it is, we should deal with it as a family.
If she’d come home, I wouldn’t lecture her, just help her.
The door bursts open and my mate walks in, soaked to the bone and carrying a bundled-up blanket that seems to shake. Rainwater is dripping from his clothes, his hair, his face, and he’s followed by a snarling white tiger. Aradia shimmies the water off her coat, her eyes glowing with discontent.
Sampson’s expression doesn’t give away a thing, but I can sense the pain rippling through him.
He moves to the bed, setting the blanket down.
Whistling low, he waits for the tiger to jump up and curl around the bundle protectively before looking up.
He jerks his head toward the workout room, wanting to talk elsewhere.
We can’t do anything else but follow, so the goddess and I walk behind him, closing the panel as we come in.
Rafe is prowling back and forth, much more energetic than normal as he runs his hands through his hair. When he looks at us, his eyes are golden, and he stops, turning to punch the bag with a snarl of frustration. The goddess looks at me, and we spread out as if we’re defending our family.
“What in the sodding hell happened today?”
“We know who, love. What they said or did to her would help us plot our revenge,” Talia hisses.
Punching the bag again, he roars. “They said she’s the problem.”
I look at Talia, and she frowns.
Obviously, we’re missing context.
“She sodding kills herself for those idiots and she’s the fucking problem.”
“Vague it up a bit more, mate. Can’t have it make too much—” It hits me and I sigh. “Oh. Bloody buggering hell.”
My primary frowns. “Wait, I’m confused. Deli knew they were going to turn on her after the party. Sari had too many irons in the fire while Deli wasn't as accessible. I thought she was resigned to that. What changed?”
“As in, what the fuck made everything go boom?”
The long-haired clone snarls as he paces.
“She wasn’t ready for what she got. That crumbly little gnome found every single nit with a bone to pick to pull a Brutus.
It ripped the entire community in half. The bulldog is building a new ‘suburb’ for people who don’t like the management.
More people will join by the minute—all because the cat won’t give them what they want. ”
Ah, that’s what the picture meant—they’re doing to our kitty what she and Lily did to the Cabal.
Rafe’s voice lowers as he pants. “She has monster shields up. If you could feel what she’s like inside, you’d be on the floor. Shredded is the best word that comes to mind, and I only got a peek.”
“Fuck this. I’m talking to her,” Talia says, looking stubborn. “I want her to talk to me now. We’re her family, and we will get through this together.”
“She’s messy. It took me forever to hunt her down.”
“What do you mean, messy? I’m sick of the euphemisms, husband.” Talia crosses her arms over her chest, her temper flaring as she stares our exhausted mate down. “Give it to us straight.”
I’m glad she said it because I’m in no place to respond yet.
“The cat went on a bit of a tear and fried herself out. Note the rain dripping everywhere? She made an enormous fucking thunderstorm.”
“Okay. Messy like that, I can handle.” My primary turns and storms out of the room, leaving me looking at Rafe ruefully.
His lips quirk a bit and he rubs his temples. “Come on, love. Let’s unwrap the kitty and see if we can put Humpty back together again.” Noticing how quiet I am, he stops. “Most of it is superficial. She’s emotionally wrecked.”
I nod at him, following along as he heads back into the main bedroom. The goddess is standing by the bed, waiting for us and tapping her foot. Rafe walks up to the bed and scratches the growly, wet tiger behind the ears, getting her to uncurl from around the lump.
That doesn’t sit well with Talia because she snorts at him.
“Oh, hell, Rafe, if you’re going to pussyfoot around, do it somewhere else.
I’m not in the mood to coddle people. Nasty shit happened and we’ll deal.
We’ll win because we’re better and stronger than they are.
Anyone not in on that plan can suck on a lemon. ”
She leans over and looks at Aradia, trying to convince her to get off the bed and let us see my wife. The tiger eyes her, not knowing Talia as well as she does me. When it doesn’t move, my primary looks at us in frustration.
“Seriously?!”
I don’t think I’ve ever been so speechless in my entire life, so I don’t respond. My wife gave herself over and over to these people. She made them a home when they were ostracized. Just because she’s not sleeping with them anymore, they allowed the gnome to make her the enemy.
Talk about someone trying to whore out the ones they love.
Sampson leans over and shoos the tiger, watching her lope away to her bed by the fireplace, then sighs.
When he pulls the covers back, I can see my wife’s hair is a mess of tangles and static-filled snarls.
There’s dried blood in small spots all over her where she got nicked by splinters and various things.
There’s a gash above one eye that seems to have stopped bleeding, but it doesn’t matter because she has them squeezed tightly shut.
Her arms are wrapped around her knees, but I see the tips of her fingers are blackened as if burned.
“I’m not sure that I’d classify this as superficial, mate.” I give him a dirty look and then turn to my primary. She follows me across the room as we talk internally for a few moments about how to handle this.
I think it’s going to require a softer touch than she was planning on using.
Once we’ve come to a detente, Talia huffs in irritation. “Fine. I’ll back off.” Turning on her heel, she stalks out of the room.
Great. Just what we need—her ass in a snit, too.
Crossing over to the bed, I look at my new mate. “Is she conscious?”
My expression reflects my sadness; my wife is a caring soul. I wish she wouldn’t let people who don’t deserve the honor get to her.
“She’s not been responsive. I think that’s on purpose as I damn near sizzled myself getting to her and pulling her down. She gave up fighting once I did.”
I climb onto the bed, wrapping myself around her and open my heart, inviting her to come out of hiding. Rafe backs off, giving me a small smile and a wave, before he pads out of the room to find his wife.
That’s okay. I think this one’s a job for me and me alone.
My wife lies still and silent, shaking from the overload of emotions.
I reach up and stroke over the tangled mass of hair, humming under my breath.
As much as I can, I try to draw her into my warmth, as she’s shivering with cold from being in the storm.
I sense a whisper of a touch inside, just the tiniest bit, and I sigh, knowing she’s in there somewhere.
My heart aches for her. I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about those ungrateful stooges, but I realize she does, and she’s hurting.
Diving into our bond, I use it to move through the devastation inside her, searching for its source.
I hope her body will suck up the warmth of mine to get her body temperature up, and I continue making the soothing sounds.
When her skin finally heats a little, I undo the cold, wet clothes.
Getting her out of them will help immensely.
She has to be stiff and sore from being in this position for so long, but she’s not warm enough to move yet.
As I look deep into her heart, I realize she is hidden in her safe place, waiting for me—of course she is.
I send a little of her tingling heat to her joints and muscles so she can uncurl. Little by little, she moves a hand, then a foot, and then a leg. As her muscles relax, I drape over her, surrounding her with warmth. I siphon energy to her as I had when the goddess got injured, but she pushes back.
She must be overflowing with power, not drained—good to know.
It’s time to try speaking, so I whisper into her head. ~Love? ~
~Hi. ~ She whispers, even her inner voice coming through like a faint echo from the bottom of a well.
Relief floods me, and I try to follow the sound. ~Where are you, love? ~
~Hiding.~
I chuckle, chiding her gently. ~Really? Wow, that’s news. You want me to find you or let you hide, heart of mine? ~
She huffs, ~If I saw where I’d ended up, don’t you think I would have told you by now? Ass. ~
~I’m your ass, luv of my heart. ~
~Yeah. ~
Continuing my search inside her, I struggle to keep frustration out of my voice. ~That’s all you have to say, sassy wench? It’s been a shit day, but I could cut off a limb and you’d do better than that. ~
A wan smile filters through our bond. ~Sorry. I guess I’m burnt out. I didn’t mean to be lackluster. Would it help to say the dreaded phrase? ~
~No, love. Don’t say anything you don’t feel like saying. I’m teasing you. ~
~You’re being nice and I’m frustrating. ~
~Sod me. I’m here for my amusement when no one else’s amused. ~
I sense her pout as she replies, ~Don’t want sod you. Not even sure what it is. Doesn’t sound pleasant, though. Makes me think of football fields. ~
~It’s nothing to do with soil, pet. Don’t you worry your cute little brow about it. ~
~Okay.~
~Well? ~
~Well, what? ~