“It wasn’t your fault.”
An echo of her words to him about his wife. “I know that.”
“Do you?”
Did she? Her aunt had blamed her, wished it was her that had died instead of her beloved daughter. And Selina had always felt as though she’d failed her cousin by not catching her killer. That was a lot of guilt to pile on for decades.
“I want to hear you say it.”
Hoisted by her own petard. Again. She pressed her lips together, trying to still their shaking enough so she could speak coherently. “It wasn’t my fault. But, gods, I miss her so fucking much.”
And then she broke, sobbing with the terrible anguish she had never allowed herself to express in all these years. She’d set it aside to chase the killer, set it aside to stay sane, set it aside to focus on her career. She’d avoided it for so long that once it hit her, she was drowning in it, her body rocking with every ragged, hitching breath, her throat raw with the keening wails that ripped from her. There was no escaping this horrible grief, not anymore.
Jack held her through it all, murmuring a soothing cadence of reassurances. He didn’t leave her, just let her get it all out until there was nothing left.
He smoothed her hair back and kissed her cheek. “Get some rest, honey.”
So she closed her eyes and let unconsciousness take her. Jack’s arms were around her, and she felt less alone than she had in a long, long time. She sighed, sliding into dreamless slumber.
13
Calls that came in the middle of the night were never good. Jack’s heart jolted when his phone blared and jerked him out of a sound sleep. Heart pounding, he groped for his cell before it vibrated itself off his nightstand.
Selina bolted upright, hair sticking out in every direction, eyes wild. “Holy shit, you need to change your ring tone. The air raid siren freaks me out.”
“I’ll do that.” After a day of languorous sex with breaks for eating and going over files again, and a night of more sex and deep sleep, this was one rude-ass awakening. He snagged the phone and unplugged the charger. Tapping the screen, he pressed it to his ear. “Laramie.”
“Jack, it’s Luca.” The vampire’s usually smooth voice was rough with rage. “You need to come down to Harborview Medical Center.”
A chill went down his spine, but he pushed the button to set his cell on speakerphone so Selina could hear, too. “Another victim?”
“Yes, only this one survived. Barely, but he survived. They think if he makes it through the night, he’ll recover.”
His heart slammed against his rib cage. A survivor. A witness. Selina threw aside the covers and leapt out of bed, throwing on clothes and thrusting her fingers through her disheveled hair.
“Do we have a name on the vic yet?” Jack grabbed a notepad to write it down so he knew whose room to ask for when they arrived at the hospital.
“It’s Darren Kerr. Your stepfather.” Luca’s Italian accent deepened. “I’m so damn sorry, Jack. Get down here now.”
Everything inside him froze, slowed down until it stopped. His heart, the very breath in his lungs. The phone slipped from his hand and clattered against the floor.
Selina snapped her fingers and his clothes were magically on. She tugged him out the door and stuffed him into her car. Hard determination molded her features as she floored it all the way to Harborview, the blue light flashing on her dashboard. He didn’t remember anything else about the drive, just the expression on her face. He didn’t know how long it took, just that it felt like forever. His hands felt as though they’d been made of ice, and he fumbled to get the door open when they arrived.
A hand wave from his elf, and the door flew wide. He tumbled out of the car and almost face-planted in the parking garage. He shook himself out of his stupor and ran for the hospital entrance, Selina right on his heels. All he could think was, Please, God, don’t let me lose another father. Please, God. Not someone else I love.
Sliding to a halt at the nurses’ station, he barked, “Darren Kerr. Where is he?”
The nurse drew herself up as if he’d said something offensive. Selina leaned over the desk, her eyes slitted. “We’re with the FBI. I suggest you answer the man’s question.”
“Level four, left off the elevator.”
The Magickal ward. Of course. Like every other public service, hospitals had a special branch for Magickals. Darren was there. Jack spun and sprinted for the elevator. There was a crowd there, waiting. What were all these people doing here? They all seemed to be sobbing. No way could he handle standing there with that. To hell with waiting for the elevator. He turned for the stairs and hit them running. His arms and legs pumped as he took the steps two at a time. Sweat streaked down his face to sting his eyes, and his vision blurred.
He burst out of the stairwell and collided with Selina as she stepped off the elevator. She went careening into the wall, and he caught her before she fell.
“Laramie.” Luca rose from his chair down the hall, which was parked next to a room with three agents guarding it. He stepped in front of Jack before he could rush into the room. “Be ready when you go in there. He was shot with silver bullets and stabbed repeatedly with a silver implement. It’s as bad as the others, only he’s still breathing.”
“He understands that, Cavalli,” Selina snapped, appearing at his side, a slender virago in his defense. “Get out of the way.”
Glancing down at her, Luca sighed and moved. “He asked for Angela, but that’s the only word he’s spoken.”
“My mother’s on a business trip in Portland. She left after the full moon lockdown ended yesterday at dawn.” It wasn’t even dawn yet now. She’d been gone less than a day. “She’s not getting back until Friday.”
Darkness edged the corners of Jack’s vision when the bed came into view, his stepfather still as death and as pale as the sheet draped over him.
“I called her.” Luca’s voice seemed to come from a very long distance. “I’ve sent my family’s private jet down there, and she’ll be here soon.”
“Thank you, Luca,” Selina replied for Jack, because he couldn’t unlock his jaw enough to say a word.
Rage pumped through his veins, and his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. He didn’t consider himself an angry or violent man. Those things had their time and place, but this? This was unlike anything he had ever known before.
The motherfucker had messed with his family.
Staring down at his stepfather—a man who had always been larger than life in his eyes, invincible—he saw a battered victim, flesh swollen with bruises, one hand broken, wounds festering down his arms and legs, his collarbone scored with the ugly black mark of dark magic. His werewolf healing abilities would kick into full gear once the silver processed out of his system, but for the moment, he looked like hell.
Jack’s fingers were shaking when he sat down and took Darren’s hand. Tubes and wires ran in and out of his arms and chest. Bruises mottled his face, black rings formed around his eyes.
The big wolf startled, lurching halfway up in bed before collapsing back. His eyes were wild, feral light gleaming in them.
“I’ll get the nurse,” Selina said, and ducked out of the room.
Jack leaned right into Darren’s face, despite the fangs that were fully extended. “You’re all right. Everyone is safe. Mom is on her way back from Oregon.”