“As you say,” Royce murmured, though his gaze briefly slid back to give Ashi a look that I interpreted as a warning. Ashi remained right where he was, stiff and unyielding in his stance, his raised fists only lowering a fraction. “Do try to recall that I am master here.”
Ashi’s lip curled. “Not mine. You don’t own me. I’m not some stupid, broken house pet like those two.”
Christoph and Analie whirled on Ashi, both of them growling—though Analie sounded a bit more like I expected of a werewolf. Christoph, on the other hand, made a sound more like a guttering wheeze.
Mouse rolled her eyes heavenward, and Clarisse put her head in her hands. “Here we go. . . .”
It was as if Ashi had no idea what kind of effect he’d created. He was still stubbornly glaring at Royce like he could hate him to death.
The vampire leaned forward, and I felt the cold breath of his whisper against my cheek, making me shiver. “Are you certain you wish to raise the ire of your packmates, Ashi? I shouldn’t think I would have to remind you that you have few friends here.”
Oh, God. I didn’t even want to imagine what kind of look must be on the vampire’s face while he said that.
A fine tremble was visible in Ashi’s arms, but he stood his ground. “I don’t need their friendship. I need their respect.”
“You lost it when you tricked me into coming here, you asshole.” Christoph glared at the much smaller man, though I noted he didn’t seem in any hurry to attempt any kind of physical confrontation. He kept some distance between them, edging almost imperceptibly closer to Mouse.
Ashi sneered, not breaking Royce’s gaze. I thought maybe he was concerned that if he looked away, Royce might pounce on him.
I wouldn’t put something like that past the vampire.
“If you weren’t such a sucker for beer and football, you wouldn’t have fallen for it, you imbecile.”
Analie shocked me by socking Ashi in the arm, sending him stumbling to one side and crashing into the table. Mouse, Clarisse, and Wes scooted their chairs out of the way, but made no move to help Ashi, who was sprawled on the floor and clutching at his head. Hell, the vampires looked bored.
You know you have an exciting lifestyle when the novelty of werewolves fighting in the kitchen has worn off.
“It’s your fault I’m still stuck here, you insensitive asshole!” Analie was verging on tears again—but there was a hint of fang and a not-so-subtle glow to her eyes that hadn’t been there a moment ago. Hormonal teenaged werewolves. Gotta love ’em. “I can’t even send Gavin a letter! I’m not going to see him for years because of you!”
Royce’s fingertips dug into my shoulder. This situation was escalating to a very uncomfortable level in more ways than one.
As fascinating as it was watching this little drama unfold, I did not want to get caught in the middle of a fight between vampires and werewolves. Even if it was all verbal, this was way too messed up, even for me. I cleared my throat, drawing the eye of every supernatural in the room.
Peachy.
“Look, I know this is not my business, but maybe we can come up with some kind of compromise, huh? Analie, I’ll take a letter to Gavin for you.” The glow in her eyes seemed slightly less threatening, even though the wide grin she gave me was made with a mouthful of fangs. I wasn’t sure if the twinge of fear twisting in my gut was from nervousness at the idea of meeting Analie’s caretaker, or from the way Royce’s anger suddenly became palpable. I hastily continued before Analie could say something else to break my heart and leave me feeling obligated to do another favor I probably couldn’t afford. “It’s not like it’s a big deal. I don’t have to stick around, just deliver it—right? I can drop it off and leave it at that.”
Royce growled. Actually growled. And since he was still hovering over me, the sound vibrated uncomfortably against my ear, making me squirm.
His voice was cold and each word carefully enunciated. “Ms. Waynest, my arrangements to see to your safety by taking you away from all of the dangerous elements you have become a magnet for will be completely negated if you insist on carrying forward with this foolishness. You’ve already managed to raise the ire of the East Coast werewolves, the White Hats, and the police. Do you truly plan on tempting fate with the werewolves in Los Angeles?”
Annoyed, I twisted around on the chair to face him. “You know what? Yeah, I do. I don’t need you to keep rubbing it in that I’ve screwed up my life. What do you think I spent the last month doing? For weeks, I haven’t had a break from the voice in my head telling me nonstop what a fucking screwup I’ve been. I don’t need you telling me, too.”
A light touch to my arm drew my gaze away from Royce’s. Sara was watching me with such concern that I was having a hard time holding on to my anger. “Shia, I know things have been rough on you lately, but maybe you should listen to him. You weren’t here to see what it was like the last few weeks. ”
My gaze flicked back and forth between Sara and Royce. He didn’t appear to be thrilled with Sara for butting in, but he wasn’t gritting his fangs anymore either, so maybe her involvement in this conversation wasn’t such a terrible thing. As badly as I wanted to hold on to my righteous anger, this wasn’t the time or the place for it. Explaining my reasoning wasn’t going to be fun, but I wasn’t going to let this go so easily.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my words as slow and measured as Royce’s had been only a few moments ago, though for a far different reason. “This isn’t something I can just let go. I’ve been a . . . a really terrible, thoughtless person for the last month. I’ve done some things that are going to haunt me for the rest of my life.”
I’d hunted Chaz and other Sunstriker werewolves like they were dogs. I’d joined and aided a group of extremists who had no regard for the lives of Others or people sympathetic to their cause. I’d ignored my friends and family for the sake of revenge.
I’d killed someone.
“There’s blood on my hands, and the only way I can wash it away is by being a better person.”
“Soap and water takes care of that, you know,” Christoph commented. Wes bopped him on the back of the head, prompting a watery smile out of me.
“I’ve done some really stupid things, guys. I need to feel better about myself, inside and out, and one of the ways I can do that is by repaying the kindness Analie has shown me. She’s not asking for much, and it will be a start on my road to recovery. Am I making any sense?”
“No,” Ashi said from his seat on the floor. His dark brown eyes were narrowed, watching me with distrust.
Clarisse and Wes both shushed him, Mouse shook her head, and Royce cupped my chin in his palm to make me turn my head to look at him. The melancholy expression he wore didn’t suit him, but it was an improvement over the irritation he’d been exuding for most of this conversation.
“I believe the fault in this matter lies with me. If you understood the danger you would be putting yourself—and Sara—in by contacting the Goliath pack, you wouldn’t be so eager to do this.”
I put my hand on his cheek, the tips of my fingers playing along his smooth skin as I studied his features. There were tiny creases like half-formed laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. His lips were thin but pliant under my caressing thumb. The tension in his jaw gradually eased under my touch, the muscles no longer visibly bunching up around his cheekbones and the line of his jaw.