Still, he remained standing. Bloodied and bruised but too pissed off to care, apparently.
“Why won’t you go down?” Ernst asked in a shaky voice. She felt his energy flare, but Jack remained upright, angry, and powerful.
Jack scowled, and she wanted to run from Ernst and him. Who was this man she loved?
“Heather, quit fucking around and pull.”
Ernst squeezed her harder, but she couldn’t take from him. Jack didn’t understand. The power was hers because she shared, not because she harmed. She couldn’t abuse it, not even to save her own life. But to save Jack’s?
“I can’t,” she cried. “That’s not who I am. Jack, I’m not like you—”
Before she could finish her sentence, he attacked her. Or rather, he yanked her away from Ernst and punched his fist into the other man’s face. Ernst was shaken, but Jack was hurt. They were more evenly matched than she would have liked. The two grappled for control while she hovered, trying to figure out what to do.
Ernst stabbed Jack again, this time in his forearm.
“Oh, that is it,” Jack yelled and rolled them until he had Ernst beneath him, finally. He reached for Ernst’s neck, and sweat appeared on his forehead as he struggled to push through Ernst’s will. It looked as if Jack battled an immovable force as he slowly, inch by inch, shoved through an invisible force to wrap his hands around Ernst’s neck. Blood poured from his nose and his mouth. His head snapped back several times, reacting to what looked like invisible blows. Yet he didn’t turn away.
Heather hurried to his side and touched him, adding her strength the only way she knew how. Except tied to Jack like this, she felt him kill, sensed the negative energy reaching into Ernst and exploiting his fear.
She tried to pull back, but Jack hugged her energy tight, healing as he took Ernst’s life in his hands. A terrible wrenching, and then Ernst’s head tilted at an unnatural angle, and the light of life left his eyes.
Heather lurched back and retched, unable to stop heaving. She’d killed someone. Oh my God, she’d felt his life just…disappear.
She shuddered, in shock, hurting, and spiritually wounded.
Jack tried to touch her, but she violently shied away, not able to stand being near him right now.
“Fuck.” He left her and returned with not two but one bulging backpack. “I have the book,” he said gruffly and put the pack on.
She finally straightened and looked at him directly, avoiding the dead body on the ground next to him. Jack’s bleeding had stopped, and his bruises started to fade. He didn’t move as he watched her. He wore no expression on his face, but she could tell he hurt more than physically. By pulling away, she’d wounded him.
She blew out a breath. “I can’t… I just can’t touch you right now. I’m sorry.” Sorry I was so weak. Sorry you had to do that, to take a life, to keep me safe. She couldn’t contain it any longer, and she broke down in tears.
She heard him swearing again, but this time he picked her up and cradled her in his arms, his hold infinitely gentle. Yet she couldn’t stop seeing him—feeling him—kill Ernst Baer. A monster, yes, but a living person all the same. Heather didn’t see Jack as bad or evil for doing what had to be done, but she ached that he’d had to do it at all. That kind of toll on one’s soul left a mark. No wonder he had wounds that went deep.
And when he’d asked her for help, had begged her to pull from Ernst, she’d been unable to assist him. Forcing him to turn to that darkness once again.
Disgusted with herself, heartsick at what Jack had been forced to do, she sobbed her heart out as he walked them through the woods, cradling her in his arms, with only the whisper of wind and the moonlight for company.
JACK KNEW HE’D blown any chance of a future with her, letting her see him at his worst, but he hadn’t had a choice. Watch Ernst kill Heather, or show her his inner monster? He’d rather she was alive to hate him than dead because of his gentle side.
He cleared his throat. They still had to leave Drei-Gewalten, and more enemies than friends surrounded them. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he muttered but refused to let her go. “I had to take a chance that you could hurt him. Because the thought of you in that bastard’s arms with nothing to defend yourself with…” He didn’t know what else to say.
She didn’t answer, but he knew she was listening. She felt too light. The woman needed to eat more. All this stress couldn’t be helping her any.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. Always apologizing. “We’re not out of danger yet. I think we can trust Jan to take care of the trouble the Baers have put the town through, but you and I need to blow this place in case I’m wrong. Let’s get to that stupid gate and leave.”
“But Ida…” she croaked.
Good. She was with him, finally breaking out of that state of shock. He wondered if she’d ever seen anyone killed before. If she had, it probably hadn’t been at her own hands. Just how much of what he’d sensed when killing Ernst had she experienced?
He set her down and coughed to hide his discomfort, missing her already. “We’ll check on her quickly. But we need to move. There are still others in the woods looking for me, and by now, they’ve probably found Klaus’s body. I did my best to hide him, but I was pressed for time.”
She flinched at mention of more death, and he wished he could have made it easier for her. But truth was truth, and he couldn’t sugarcoat it now. They spent the next few hours walking in silence, each wrapped up in their own feelings. He would have given his left arm to know what she thought, if the violence had killed her affection for him, or if she just needed time to process everything. Kitty would have been more than valuable right now, using her empathy to ease Heather’s fears.
“Why didn’t you let me know you could do that? Be another person?” Heather asked softly.
He shrugged. “I’ve always kept that part of myself secret. No one knows. Well, one or two people.” He’d been unable to avoid letting a few of his teammates see him shift when they’d been in trouble. “Now you know too. Owen doesn’t.”
She studied him. “Really?”
“Really.” He blew out a breath. “I’d appreciate it if you’d just forget all about it.” He plucked at the tight waistband of Klaus’s clothes. “Christ, Klaus’s jeans are way too tight.”
Heather shocked him by grinning. “Wow. Those look like high-waters.”
“The problem with shifting. It’s hard to have the right clothes, and if I stay in another form too long, it gets tiring.”
She studied him, nibbling her lower lip. “You must be exhausted.”
He felt ready to drop, but not until he took her to safety. “Yeah. We need to get the hell out of here, so we can both get a good night’s sleep.” He wondered if she’d remember their time here as a nightmare, or if she’d recall their intimacy as a good thing. He couldn’t forget making love to her under the tree, right by the Source and feeling so close to her.
A funny feeling made his eyes burn and turned his stomach sour. They were nearly done with this mission. Time to go home. Back to his lonely life and empty house.
“Fuck,” he muttered and saw her glance at his face, her expression curiously guarded. “Okay. Here’s the plan. We’ll be in town in less than an hour. But this is how I thought we’d get around everyone…”
Jan and Heather entered the town and passed the curious stares of the townsfolk. They went immediately to Ida’s place, only to find the woman in deep discussion with several council members.
Ida stood when she saw Heather, and the women embraced. Ida subtly shook her head when Heather opened her mouth, so Heather remained mute, much to Jack’s relief. So far so good.