“Who is it?” I ask.

  Grey stands and drops the bloodied mask on the guy’s chest. “It’s Vale.”

  “Son of a bitch.”

  He crosses to where Lauren lies beside me. His eyes dance quickly over her and then back to me. He offers his hand. I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. The look in Grey’s eye is still murderous. Behind him, Vale hasn’t moved, and I have a feeling I know why.

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” I ask.

  “So’s she,” he says, his voice rough.

  I don’t think about that. I can’t. If I do, I’ll feel the hole that’s just been ripped into my gut. She died for being friends with me.

  “Will Jadick be mad?” I ask. “About Vale?”

  “Fuck Jadick,” Grey says, surprising me with the vehemence in his voice. He stalks toward the hall, past Vale’s body, before turning back to me. “You coming?”

  “Where?” I ask.

  He looks like he’s about to say something then thinks better of it. Finally, he shakes his head. “Anywhere but here.”

  CHAPTER 9

  Frankie takes one look at me and Grey and ushers us both into her room. The space is tight—tighter still with all three of us inside it. Grey doesn’t look uncomfortable, though. He looks like he wants to kill someone. Again. I can’t blame him. But instead of rage or violence welling inside me, it’s guilt. And the growing sense of certainty that I’m the poison. Not the venom inside me.

  “You, sit,” Frankie orders, and I realize with a start that she’s talking to me. That she’s been talking to me for several moments. I didn’t hear a word.

  When she points to the cot against the wall, I sit, trying not to give away how badly I needed to do that.

  Frankie shoves a couple of pills and a bottle of water at me.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “Your head’s gotta be ready to explode, considering the size of that damned lump,” she says.

  Gingerly, I run my fingers over the back of my head. Wincing, I realize she’s right. A lump the size of a golf ball has already formed. I take the pills and the water.

  “What happened?” Frankie asks.

  “Ambush,” Grey says grimly. “Apparently, Vale was working off his own agenda.”

  “I knew that asshole wasn’t to be trusted, but Jadick wouldn’t listen,” she says.

  “Now you have proof,” Grey says grimly. Frankie glances at me as Grey adds, “But it wasn’t just us.”

  Frankie’s head snaps back to Grey. “Who?”

  He hesitates. “Lauren Moore.”

  Alarm widens Frankie’s eyes. “Where is she?”

  “Dead,” Grey says flatly, and the grief that fills Frankie’s otherwise stoic expression tells me she liked Lauren too.

  Shit.

  I close my eyes and lean my head softly against the wall behind me. It’s not hard to let their voices fade away. In fact, drifting is as easy as just letting go. Not sleeping. I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep. But this is easier. Lighter. I can just pretend none of this is happening. Even better… then none of it’s my fault.

  All too soon, the sound of the door closing snaps me back.

  “Where’s Grey?” I ask, noting Frankie and I are alone.

  “He went to report what happened,” she says.

  I start to get up. “I should be with him. Jadick’s going to be pissed about Vale.”

  “You aren’t going anywhere.” She all but shoves me back again, standing in front of me to block my escape.

  I look up at her. “I don’t want Grey punished for protecting me.”

  She sighs and pulls over one of the chairs then drops into it. “Jadick trusts him,” she says. “He’ll be fine.”

  Right. I have to remember, regardless of how protective Grey is, he’s only doing it because Jadick ordered him to. And Levi before that.

  Still.

  I pull my knees up, hugging them to my chest. “I don’t want anyone else to become a target because of me.”

  The words are barely more than a whisper, but they physically hurt to say.

  Frankie nods knowingly.

  “It’s tempting to just close up, isn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When everyone you’re close to is hurting—or worse—it makes you want to stop caring at all.”

  I look away. She’s practically seeing into my soul.

  “My daughter was eight when she was killed.”

  Her words are enough to make my head snap up again. Our eyes meet. Hers are soft, twinkling with something I can’t name but have damn sure longed to see in my own mother’s gaze.

  “Emilia. She was beautiful. And smart as a whip,” she says.

  “I bet she was tough as hell,” I say. “Like her mother.”

  She smiles. “Tougher.”

  A beat of silence passes between us. I know what she’s doing. Where this is going. A sort of morbid pep talk. But I ask anyway. “What happened to her?”

  “Crigger happened. His thirst for power. For violence. I don’t have to tell you that man ruled with an iron fist. On this particular day, that fist decided to stamp out an entire apartment building. They started a fire to smoke out a man they’d been chasing for weeks. Harley something or other.”

  “They unhooked the gas lines,” I say, shutting my eyes to the horror of what she’s describing. But I can’t forget the name. Nor the scene. Not ever.

  “They said they cleared the building,” she adds quietly.

  I open my eyes again, mostly because all I see is the smoke pouring from the windows. Kari and I had seen it while driving home from school. Crigger and Jadick had stood out front while emergency workers struggled to put out the flames. Neither alpha nor his son looked remotely remorseful as the first responders wheeled out two gurneys, each with a body bag.

  One bag had been considerably smaller than the other.

  Frankie is watching me. But the murderous look from earlier is gone. Now, the softness has won out. It guts me.

  “She was sleeping and never heard the knock on the door,” she says. “I was at work. A professor at the war college.”

  I’m not surprised. The war college is about twenty miles outside of town. A boarding school for students, though some of the teachers live off campus. Only the most elite soldiers and spec-ops recruits get sent there. Frankie as a professor makes total sense.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell her. “Your loss… I can’t imagine.”

  “You can,” she says. “Maybe not the way a mother loses a child. But something tells me you can certainly imagine something close to it.”

  I don’t answer.

  “Tripp and I have known each other almost his entire life,” she adds. “Did you know that?”

  I shake my head. A tear tracks down my cheek. Then another. I don’t bother to wipe them away.

  “His mother and I were neighbors for a few years when he was little. I babysat him when she had the late shift. And now, well, I guess I’m still babysitting him in a way.”

  I look up at her through wet lashes. “I know what you’re trying to say.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “You lost your daughter and still found a way to care. You want to make sure I let people in. Not close myself off.”

  “Is it working?”

  “Kind of,” I admit.

  She snorts. “You’re making me work for it then.”

  “My mom says I’m difficult.”

  This time, she grins. “All the strong women are.”

  I shake my head. “I’m not strong,” I tell her.

  “What would you call it?” she challenges.

  “Wrong place at the wrong time?”

  She narrows her eyes, giving me a look that reminds me of my own mother’s. I can practically feel the lecture coming on. “What happened to Lauren isn’t your fault. Neither is what happened to Levi.” When I open my mouth to argue, she cuts me off, her voice taking on a firm edge meant to chase away my own doubts. “I know you’re hell-bent on saving him, and that’s fine. I’m not here to talk you out of it. But you can make it right without blaming yourself for what went wrong.”

  I sigh. “Is this your way of saying I should forgive Tripp?”

  “I think you already know the answer to that.”

  Frankie lets me sleep on her cot. Or, well, she doesn’t wake me up once I’ve passed out. In fact, when I finally find my way back to consciousness, Tripp is sitting in Frankie’s chair. And Frankie is gone. I snort. Real subtle, lady.

  “What day is it?” I ask, rolling over and wincing as my shoulder flares with the movement.

  “Wednesday.”

  I realize belatedly that tells me nothing since I didn’t know what day it was to start with.

  “How long have I been asleep?” I ask.

  “A few hours.”

  I try to sit up and groan through the process. Everything hurts. Even breathing.

  “My ribs are not okay with this,” I say.

  “The venom’s pretty strong,” he says quietly.

  I arch a brow at that. “It probably wouldn’t have been until that third dose.”

  He shakes his head. “You’re a magnet for trouble. Always have been.”

  “Back at ya,” I mutter.

  He grins and sits back in the chair, watching me struggle as I attempt to find a more comfortable position. But that doesn’t exist.

  Finally, I give up and wallow in my pain.

  “Frankie left you here so we could be best friends again, didn’t she?”

  Tripp snorts. “Something like that.”

  “She really cares about you.”

  “She’s good people.”

  “Is that why you brought her with you?”

  I try not to let it hurt—again—but it does.

  He senses where my question is going and winces. “I would have come back for you too, Mac. But if I’d failed… if anything had gone wrong… Thiago would have killed you. You know that.”

  “I know.” I wave him off, not wanting to pick at the wound.

  “Do you? Because I mean that. You are one of the most important people in the world to me. I need you to know I’d never do anything to hurt you. I hate that you think I abandoned you.”

  I sigh. “Logically, I know the truth about why you and Levi left me,” I say. “But my heart isn’t so quick to catch up.”

  He nods.

  Silence falls between us, and I try to collect my thoughts. To know where to start. Frankie wants us to patch things up, and there’s a part of me that wants that too. A big part. But how do I go from here to there? We can’t ever go back, and I don’t know how to move forward.

  “Did Jadick say anything?” I ask. “On the camera, I mean. About Vale.”

  “He was definitely pissed,” Tripp says with a sort of grimace, and my heart lurches.

  “At Grey?” I ask, eyes wide. “I knew it. It wasn’t his fault. He—”

  “If he was pissed at Grey, it was only because Grey stole the kill. When he heard what Vale tried to do to you… I’ve never seen him like that. Not even when Levi was taken. Believe me, if Vale wasn’t already dead, Jadick would have done it himself.”

  “Oh.” I sit back again, unsure what to say to that.

  “And Lauren?” I ask.

  His expression falls. “There will be a service for her. Tomorrow night.”

  “I want to come. If… I mean, if you think it’s a good idea.”

  “I think Lauren would have wanted it.”

  I bite my lip as my eyes fill with more tears. Ugh. I want to do something. Anything. Sitting here and weeping doesn’t count as something. But my body isn’t capable of anything else, and it’s infuriating. Then again, even if I were healed, I wouldn’t know where to begin anymore.

  “Well, I better get back,” I say, scooting toward the edge of the cot.

  “Mac.” Tripp’s voice stops me. A note of something serious. “There’s something you should know.”

  “What is it?”

  “Jadick took your advice. About the scouts. He had them captured and brought in. And apparently, some explosions just ignited in Wythe. In the exact location where Levi thinks we were headed.”

  I stare at him, his words sinking in slowly. Not the words. The meaning behind them.

  “You think Levi finally broke?”

  “I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “You did tell Jadick to move the explosions. Maybe he did.”

  My eyes narrow. “How do you know what I told Jadick? We were alone for that conversation.”

  He hesitates and then says, “Grey.”

  “Grey,” I repeat.

  He waits for me to process that.

  “He’s working with you,” I realize. “Does Jadick know?”

  “Of course not.”

  I blow out a breath. “So he doesn’t hate me?”

  “No idea. But he’s a soldier, and Levi is his general. And he doesn’t trust Jadick for shit. So that helps.”

  Right.

  So he probably hates me. But he hates Jadick more.

  “Okay, so Wythe exploded. Either because of Levi or Jadick,” I say. “And the scouts are here.”

  He nods.

  “Has Jadick spoken to them yet?”

  His gaze is meaningful as he says, “He’s decided not to.”

  I deflate. So he’s rejected my idea of rescinding the law. Even beating Kari isn’t worth him giving up control over us all. I expected it, but it’s still a blow to realize, no matter what, nothing will change.

  Tripp watches me. I feel his gaze zeroing in on my shoulder.

  “What?” I demand.

  “Those stitches giving you any trouble?”

  “Not as much as the poison is,” I say.

  He snorts. “Even poisoned, you’re a hellion, Mac.” He looks away, adding, “I guess I’m surprised you’re still here.”

  “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

  Another pause, and then he says, “He’s never going to challenge her outright.”

  “No,” I agree. “He’s planning something else.”

  “Frankie told you about the hexerei, Rina?”

  “Has he found her?”

  “Not that I’ve heard,” he says.

  “And my mom?”

  He shakes his head, his expression offering a small glimpse of the worry I feel before he smooths it out again. “Nothing.”

  My expression must give away some of my worry because Tripp says, “Hey, if anyone can take care of themselves, it’s Vicki Quinn.”

  “You’re right,” I say, not sure I believe my own words.

  Tripp reaches out and squeezes my knee in comfort.

  “Ugh.” I bite my lip, thinking. And trying not to freak out about my mom.

  Without her, and without the strength of my wolf, there’s not much I can do. Jadick knows it too, which has my fists balling in fury. He’s backed me into a damned corner. I can’t even get the Jades on my side. Not after what happened to Levi. And Lauren.

  All I have are the scouts.

  “You have a plan,” he says a moment later.

  “I have…the scraps of a plan,” I admit.

  “Tell me what I can do.”

  I don’t answer.

  “I know you don’t trust me. And I know there’s nothing I can say to change that. But let me earn it, Mac. Shit, let me sink or fucking swim. Give me something—anything. Because I’m losing my damn mind just sitting around on my hands, waiting for that asshole to get us all killed.”

  “If that’s how you feel, I’m surprised you’re still here.”

  “It’s not like I have anywhere else to go.”

  My lips curve in a crooked smile. “Touché.” The smile vanishes quickly as I think about what he’s asking me. And he’s right. He deserves a chance. Besides, he’s already trusted me with the information he’s just shared. “All right,” I say. “The scouts we’re holding. I need to know where they are, and I need access to them.”

  “I’m on it.”

  He rises and heads for the door.

  “You really think you can make that happen?”

  He turns back, a slick smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “You’re not the only one playing a long game,” he says and then slips out.

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” I mumble into the empty room.

  CHAPTER 10

  Tripp returns an hour later with no information. He seems frustrated, and I can only assume he’s not used to coming up empty-handed, but Jadick’s made it clear Tripp isn’t part of the inner circle anymore. Still grumbling, he promises to keep digging, and I head back to my room to wait. It’s all I do anymore—wait—but unless I want to take Jadick’s offer, I can’t think of another way.

  Despite my best efforts to convince Jadick to rescind the stupid mate rejection law, he hasn’t done jack shit. Going to the scouts directly—bypassing Jadick—is my best shot at getting Levi the help he deserves. I can’t leave his fate in Jadick’s hands. Not when those hands would sooner choke Levi to death than save him.

  Grey is waiting for me when I exit Frankie’s wing. He straightens when he sees me and offers what might be a look of sympathy. Or it could be disgust. I can’t be sure anymore.

  “Did you miss me?” I ask with mock sincerity.

  When in doubt, sarcasm.

  “Jadick is asking for you,” he says, refusing to take my bait.

  “Why?” My stomach does a weird somersault at the possibilities.

  Lauren. The scouts. My mother. Levi.

  So many things hang in the balance. Or hang over my head. On my shoulders.

  Grey merely shrugs. “He’s called a meeting. Something about a delivery.”

  Tripp and I exchange a glance where he still hovers in the doorway behind me.

  “Go,” he urges me, “I’ll be watching.”

  “Actually, he wants both of you,” Grey says.

  “This can’t be good,” Tripp mutters.

  He pulls the door shut behind him, and we all three head for Jadick’s office. Tripp and Grey walk on either side of me. Grey’s quiet, but at least, he’s no longer walking behind me like some skulking henchman.

  “Tripp says there’ll be a service tomorrow night,” I say, glancing sideways at Grey. “For Lauren.”