"What's changed, John."
In the bedroom he and Xhex had once shared, John went over to the windows and felt the cold wafting through the clear glass. Down below, the gardens were bathed in security lighting, the false moon glow making the grout around the terrace's slate slabs seem phosphorescent.
As he surveyed the landscape, there wasn't much to look at. Everything had been prepped for winter, the beds of flowers quilted in mesh covers, the fruit trees bagged, the pool now drained. Stray leaves from the maples and oaks at the forest's edge skipped across the mowed, browning grass, like they were homeless and in search of shelter.
"John. What the hell is going on?"
In the end, Xhex had not committed, and he didn't blame her. One-eighties were disorienting, and real life sure as shit didn't come with seat belts or air bags.
How did he explain himself? he wondered as he scrambled for words.
Eventually, he pivoted around, brought up his hands, and signed, You were right.
"About what?"
That would be everything, he thought as he started to sign.
Last night, I watched Qhuinn go out into the suck zone - alone. Wrath was down; we were scrambling; the Brotherhood hadn't come yet as backup - bullets were everywhere. The Band of Bastards had surrounded us, and we were running out of time because of the king's injury. Qhuinn... see, he knew he was better off outside the house - he knew that if he could secure the garage, we might be able to get Wrath out. And... yeah, it nearly killed me, but I let him go out there. He's my best friend... and I let him go.
Xhex went over and slowly lowered herself into a chair. "That's why Wrath's neck was all wrapped up... and Qhuinn was..."
He went up against Xcor, one-on-one, and gave Wrath the best shot at surviving. John shook his head at her. And again, I let him go out there because... I knew he had to do what he could. It was the right thing for the situation.
John paced around, then parked it at the foot of the bed, bracing his palms on his thighs, rubbing them up and down. Qhuinn is a good fighter - he's strong and decisive. A heavy hitter. And because he did what he did, Wrath lived - so yeah, Qhuinn was right, even though it was dangerous.
He looked over at her. You're the same here. We need that rifle to declare war on the Bastards - Wrath has to have the proof. You're a hunter who can go out in daylight - none of us can do that. You also have your symphath abilities if shit gets critical. You're the right person for the job - even though the thought of you going anywhere near them terrifies me, you are the right one to send out to wherever they are.
There was a long pause. "I don't... know what to say."
He shrugged. That's why I didn't explain anything to you beforehand. I'm done with the talking, too. At some point, it's just hot air. Action matters. Proof matters.
As she rubbed her face as if her head hurt, he frowned. I thought... this would make you happy.
"Yeah. Sure. It's great." She got to her feet. "I'll do it. Of course I will. I'm going to have to keep on top of things for Trez, but I'll start tonight."
John felt the pain receptors in his chest light up like a power grid - which told him how much he'd expected out of this olive branch.
He'd hoped it would bring them together.
A Ctrl-Alt-Delete that reset their system.
He whistled to get her eyes back on him. What's wrong? I thought this would change things.
"Oh, it's clear they already have. If you don't mind, I'm just going to go out - " As her voice caught, she cleared her throat with a cough. "Yeah, go talk to Wrath. Tell him yes, I'm in."
As she went for the door, she appeared to be totally discombobulated, her movements stilted and stiff.
Xhex? he signed - which did no good, because she'd turned away.
He whistled again, then popped up off the mattress and followed her into the hall. Reaching out, he tapped her on the shoulder, because he didn't want to offend her by grabbing at her.
"John, just let me go - "
He stepped in front of her and lost his breath. Her eyes were glowing with unshed red tears.
What's the matter? he signed desperately.
She blinked fast, refusing to let anything fall to her cheeks. "You think I'm going to be jumping for joy because you aren't bonded to me anymore?"
He recoiled so badly, he nearly fell over. Excuse me?
"I didn't know it could end, but in your case, clearly it has - "
Fuck that! He stamped his feet because he had to make some noise. I'm completely fucking bonded with you! And this is both totally about us - because I want to be with you again - and totally not, because whether or not I am, this is still the right thing to do! You are the right person for the job!
She seemed momentarily stunned, nothing but those quick lids of hers moving. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and stared up at him. "Are you serious?"
Yes! He forced himself not to jump up and down again. God, yes... fuck, yes... everything I've got - yes.
She glanced away. Looked back. After a moment, she said roughly, "I have... hated not being with you."
Me, too. And I'm sorry. As he took a deep breath, his heart eased enough so that it didn't feel like it was going break through his sternum. I don't think I can ever fight side by side with you. That's like expecting a surgeon to operate on his wife. But I'm not going to stand in your way - and no one else is either. You were right in the first place - you've been fighting for longer than you've been with me, and you should be able to do what you want. I can't actually be there, though - I mean, look, if it happens, it happens, but I'd like to avoid that if we can.
As her lids dropped a little, he had the sense that she was scanning him in the ways of her other side, and he squared his shoulders under the scrutiny: He knew what was in his mind, his heart, and his soul.
He had nothing but love for her.
He wanted her back.
He had nothing to hide.
And those terms he'd just spilled out were ones that not only he had thought long and hard about, but knew he could live with. This was not the off-the-cuff of a newly mated guy thinking life was going to be a breeze just because he had the girl of his dreams in his arms and a future so bright he had to wear shades.
Now, as he spoke, it was as a male who had lived for months without his mate; who had suffered through the strange death valley that came with knowing the one you loved was on the planet but not in your life; who had emerged out the other side of hell with a new understanding of himself... and her.
He was ready to meet real life head-to-head... and compromise.
He just prayed he wasn't the only one.
As Xhex stared up at John, she found herself blinking like an idiot. Shit on a shingle, she hadn't expected any of this: the personal call from Wrath, the opportunity presented to her... and definitely not what John was saying to her now.
He was utterly sincere, though. This was not a calculated ploy to get her back into his life - although she knew that without reading his grid. Not his way.
He meant every word.
And he was still bonded to her, thank God.
The problem was... she had been to this corner with him before. She had been ready for a good stretch of happy normal. Instead? The most important relationship she had had crashed and burned.
"You sure you're going to be okay with me heading into wherever they live and maybe fighting directly with them. Without backup."
If anything happens to you, I'm going to be Tohr. Straight up. One hundred. But fear of that is not going to get me to try to keep you at home.
"You were pretty adamant that where Tohr is is not a place where you want to be."
He shrugged. But see, I'm already in it if we're not together. After you were injured, I think... I think I had this idea that if I could just get you not to fight, then I'd be safe from what he's going through - that I wouldn't be exposed to that shit because you wouldn't get stabbed or... yeah, worse. But come on, downtown Caldwell is not the safest place on the planet, and it's not like you're working around children with that job at Trez's. More to the point, I'm all in with you - whether it's old age, the number nineteen bus or a bullet from the enemy... anything happens to you and I'm fucked.
Xhex narrowed her eyes. She could read his grid, but not every part of his brain, and before she opened up to him again and got her hopes up, it was critical to know that he'd thought this shit through. "What about afterward? Say I get the rifle and bring it back here and it turns out to be the weapon that was used - what if I want to go after them. Wrath is not my king, but I like the guy, and the idea that someone tried to snuff him makes me cranky."
John's stare didn't waver, leading her to believe he had in fact considered that outcome. As long as I'm not on rotation with you, I'll be okay. If I have to come in as backup - well, that's just what it is, and we'll deal with it - I'll deal with it, he corrected. I just don't want to be in the same territory as you if we can avoid it.
"What if I want to keep my job with Trez? Permanently."
That's your business.
"What if I wanted to keep staying at my cabin."
I don't really have a right to demand anything at this point.
It was, of course, everything that she had wanted to hear: no limits on her, free to choose, free to be equal.
And, God, she wanted to fall into it all. Being apart from him had been the shittiest stretch of darkness she'd ever been through. But the thing was, she was used to the chronic suffering. The only thing worse than it would be having to acclimate to this kind of hell all over again. She didn't think she could go through that -
I'm not doing this to "make up" with you, Xhex. I want that - fuck, yeah, I really want that. But this is how I expect things to be from now on. And like I said, words don't mean shit. So how about you get to work and see what happens. Let me prove to you by actions what I've spoken to you now.
"You realize that I can't go through another freak-out from you. I can't - it's too hard."
I'm so fucking sorry. As he signed, he also mouthed the words, the shame on his face biting into her chest. So sorry - I wasn't prepared for how I'd react because I'd never considered the ramifications until I was knee-deep in them. I handled it badly - and I'd like you to give me the chance to handle it better. But on your time, at your choosing.
She thought back a million years ago to Lash and that alley - when John had given her her revenge, had allowed her to be the one to kill her own personal enemy. And that had been in spite of the bonded-male thing that had no doubt made him want to rip that evil fucker apart.
He was right, she thought. Good intentions didn't always work out, but he could prove how things were going to be over time.
"Okay," she said hoarsely. "Let's give it a go. Come with me to Wrath's?"
When John nodded once, she stepped in beside him.
Together they walked down to the king's study.
Each step they took seemed wobbly, even though the mansion was solid as a rock. Then again, she felt as though the earthquake that had been tossing her life around in a blender had suddenly stopped, and she didn't trust her balance or the steadiness of what was below her feet.
Before they knocked on the closed doors, she turned toward the male who had had her name carved in his back. The assignment she was about to accept was a dangerous one, something vital to Wrath and the Brotherhood. But its implications to her own life, and John's, seemed even more significant.
Stepping into him, she put her arms around his body and held on. As he returned the embrace, they fit just the same as they always did, hand in glove.
Goddamn, she hoped this worked out.
Oh, and yeah, nailing Xcor and his band of freaks?
Nice bonus.