White Knight (12 page)

Shay slowly pulled herself out of the deepest sleep she’d had in months, hating to leave the comfort of a dreamless rest. Warmth at her back alerted her immediately. Her nose filled with the familiar scent of Knight, and her heart fluttered. He still surrounded her with his big, muscled body, his breathing steady and even. Asleep. They’d fallen asleep together.

The bedroom door was open, and they’d done nothing except hold each other, but Shay still felt guilty.

Stop it. Nothing remotely untoward happened.

She’d wanted something to happen. For a very brief moment last night, when she realized that Knight wanted her as she wanted him, she’d been tempted to claim him. Tempted to declare what her beast already knew—Knight was the mate of her heart. Only last night had been about grief, and she wanted her first time to be about love and passion. About both of them, not her needs alone.

And Knight was still healing from his own trauma. A trauma she was certain he’d never spoken about out loud.

She never wanted to push him into anything he might regret.

Behind her, Knight snuffled. His arms tightened, then went lax. She smiled, so enjoying this quiet moment with a man who meant the world to her. It had crept up on her over the month or so they’d spent together, first as she healed, and then as they became friends. And the memory of him had helped sustain her during her captivity. Memories of sitting together in silence, of sharing meals, and of doing nothing more taxing than looking at Bishop’s roses. She didn’t know when she’d fallen in love with Knight, but she did love him.

One day she hoped to tell him so.

Her neck ached from sleeping in one position all night. She stretched her legs as carefully as she could, hoping not to wake Knight. His grunt and hug combination proved she’d failed. She knew he was awake by the way his breathing sped up.

“Good morning,” Shay said. Her voice was hoarse from crying, and she really needed to pee, but she was too content in Knight’s embrace to care much about either thing.

“Morning.” He drew his hand up to stroke her hair. “How do you feel?”

“Exhausted. Safe.”

“We shouldn’t have slept together but I’m glad I could make you feel safe for a little while.”

“I feel safe whenever I’m with you.” She shouldn’t have said that. It led to too many places they weren’t ready to travel. She couldn’t begin to guess how he’d react if she said she loved him.

He surprised her by pressing his lips to her temple, fleeting and light. “So do I.”

Her Black beast stirred with his words, wanting him safe always. She twisted around so she lay facing him, a dangerous position for them both. His face had a crease in it from the pillow, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was three days past needing a shave. He’d also never looked more beautiful.

He brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. “I know I said it last night, but I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you. I may have lost my niece but I’m blessed to have known her for even a short time. Every life is a miracle.”

“Every life?” His expression hardened, and he pulled away, leaving her chilly and alone. He sat against the headboard, knees drawn up to his chest. “Sorry, that’s unfair.”

A moment of utter confusion passed before Shay understood. Fiona. The triplets. All of them murderers. Had they deserved the lives they led? Were they miracles or monsters? Both? She was in no position to judge the value of their brief lives.

“Don’t apologize,” she said, sitting up and facing him. “You’re more than entitled to your feelings.”

“I guess I can’t find the miracle in Fiona.”

“Then you aren’t looking past the obvious.”

He frowned, his brow creasing. The cute expression softened when he understood. “Brynn.”

“Yes. Without Fiona, Brynn would not exist either. She never would have found your brother. So many of us wouldn’t have found each other.”

Jillian and Bishop. Rachel and Devlin. Even Jonas had been spending more time with Lila Smythe, and she mused on a romance blooming there. Despite the horrors and death, some amazing positives had been found. The weddings of a month ago had been beautiful moments of joy among blanketing fear.

Knight watched her with so much understanding, so much. . . want. He didn’t say it first, and neither did she.

Footsteps in the hall made her jump. Somehow she’d forgotten they weren’t alone in the house.

Jillian appeared in the doorway, dressed for the day, no surprise in finding them together on Knight’s bed. “You two better get going if you want breakfast before the meeting,” she said, and then left.

“I should change.” Shay slid off the bed, neck still sore but overall feeling better. Yesterday seemed much like a dream. A horrible dream she could let fade away with time. Her present and future was with the man watching her from his bed, silently begging her to stay.

“See you downstairs,” Knight said.

“Of course.”

Shay showered and changed clothes quickly. Not because she feared missing breakfast—although she had missed Mrs. Troost’s pancakes terribly—but because strangling grief had returned when she left Knight’s presence. She wasn’t certain if it was his White Wolf that had kept her emotions at a low simmer, or the man himself. All she wanted was to be near him again.

To return to the man who would be her mate.

He was already in the dining room with his brothers and their wives when Shay joined them, her own plate piled high with pancakes and sausage links. She sat next to him at the long table and received sincere “welcome homes” and condolences from several of the enforcers who were eating with them.

“Is Leopold still asleep?” she asked.

“I think Mrs. Troost went upstairs to help him get started,” Brynn replied. She sat across the table with Rook, her normally pale skin practically glowing. Her half-sister wore pregnancy well. “Shay, I truly am sorry about our niece.”

“Thank you.” Brynn had sat with them for a while during Chelsea’s final few hours, but watching an infant die had been too hard for the mother-to-be. Shay didn’t fault her for leaving. “Does anyone know if Dr. Mike finished his analysis?”

“He did,” Bishop replied. “Leopold’s lead levels were normal. So were yours.”

Shay’s heart skipped. “So it was likely tainted formula.”

“Yes.”

Knight squeezed her shoulder, a supportive touch that grounded her emotions. Fiona or the hybrids had been the ones to buy or steal the formula but Shay had fed it to her for a solid month. She was at least partially responsible for poisoning her own niece.

“You couldn’t have known,” he whispered.

“It doesn’t matter what I did or didn’t know. All that matters is the outcome.”

“And the outcome is that you’re safe, Leopold is in a positive environment, and we ousted the last two hybrids from their hiding place.”

“We’ve practically dared them to attack us again.”

“Then let them come,” Bishop said. His entire posture held a quiet determination. A man ready and willing to do anything to protect his people. “This entire farce has dragged on long enough.”

“Hopefully your meeting with Atwood will put us on the path to ending this,” Rook said.

Shay startled, thrown by the casual statement. “What meeting?”

Several guilty looks were thrown her way. She’d obviously missed something important during her captivity.

“Archimedes Atwood contacted us a few days ago,” Bishop said. “He wants a face-to-face meeting to discuss how we can stop the hybrids and end the violence.”

Shay bristled. “They’re his creations. Why doesn’t he stop them?”

“That isn’t how the Magi work,” Brynn replied. “They don’t get their hands dirty, they trick others into doing it for them. My father wants to work with the loup because he’s afraid the hybrids will turn to the Magi once they’re finished with us.”

“We’d be so lucky.”

Brynn frowned, hurt etching across her face.

That was unnecessarily cruel.

“Apologies,” Shay said. “I forget they’re your people, too.”

“My people have done horrible things to the loup, as well as the vampires. I can’t pretend they aren’t guilty.”

Rook slung his arm around Brynn’s shoulders and hugged her.

Shay longed for something as simple as that. “When are you meeting with Atwood?” she asked Bishop.

“We haven’t agreed on a meeting date or location yet. I have a few places in mind.”

A terrible thought buried itself in the back of her mind. “A favor, Alpha?”

“If I can grant it, I will.”

“When you speak with Atwood, can you try to determine if he knows how the hybrids acquired Chelsea’s baby formula?”

Brynn gasped. Shay couldn’t make herself look at her half-sister.

Bishop’s eyebrows rose. “I can do that.”

No one made the accusation, but Shay’s meaning was clear. Atwood would have abhorred the idea of a three-quarters Magus child out there in the hands of his half-loup creations. In a move meant to win their favor, he may have subtly destroyed the baby’s chance at a future. Magi were capable of anything.

The rest of the meal was spent in general silence, save the scrape of cutlery on plates. Shay ate with gusto, savoring the fluffy pancakes, the sweet syrup, and the spicy sausages. Good food that filled her stomach and stocked her energy reserves. She’d spent a month eating random cuts of meat, often overcooked, and rarely enough to sustain her. She never wanted to feel that weak and exhausted again.

The table was breaking up, most of them heading to the scheduled meeting in the library, when Mrs. Troost appeared with Leopold. He clung to the large woman’s arm with both hands, trembling all over, his empty eyes wide with fright that rolled off him in bitter waves. Shay didn’t need Knight’s empathy to know that Leopold was terrified.

“It’s all right,” she said. “You’re with friends.”

“Shay?” His head swiveled in her direction. She approached slowly, allowing her scent to carry. “There are so many smells here.”

“I know. It can be confusing at first, but no one here is your enemy, I promise.”

“Will you stay now?”

“I can’t stay right now, Leopold. I have to speak with some of my friends first, but I’ll be back in a little while. Mrs. Troost will be here, and she’ll help you with breakfast.”

“Is breakfast what I smell?”

“It may be. It’s all very good food, so you eat as much as you want, all right? No one will be angry if you do.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.”

She hated leaving him behind, but the debrief was her priority. She’d do everything in her power to see the hybrids stopped, so that Leopold had a chance at a safe, happy future.

***

Out of habit, Knight stood near the library’s wide window, with a view into the backyard. He liked this spot. It gave him a vantage point of the entire room and its occupants, and it reminded him that freedom was close by even when the door was shut for privacy.

The library was filled to capacity this morning with everyone who’d been involved in yesterday’s rescue and recon. The pulse of the room was optimistic, with less general anxiety than he expected—a very pleasant surprise. His family and friends dotted the room, but the bulk of his attention was on the star of the show. Shay sat in one of the leather armchairs, too far away for his liking, meeting every look thrown her way. Every curious stare or smile.

Pride socked him in the chest. Shay Butler had lived through hell twice, and she was still standing. Still fighting.

She’s the strongest person I’ve ever known.

Mine.

Once the room had settled, Shay told her story. From the moment she was attacked and drained to unconsciousness, through waking up in a strange place with an unknown infant to care for, all the way to missing her quarterly and tricking Leopold into freeing her. Through most of it she maintained a matter-of-fact stoicism in the telling. She faltered when speaking about Chelsea, Leopold, and her regret in leaving them behind.

“I don’t remember much about my time with the vampires,” she said. “I was running on instinct, allowing my beast to protect me.” Shay smiled at Knight. “And then my rescuers came, and I knew who you were. You brought me back.”

You did the same for me once.

He allowed his gaze to speak the words, and she seemed to understand.

Rook and Jillian picked up some of the narration from that point, telling things Knight knew because he’d been there. Sharing information that A.J.’s team might not have heard yet. A.J. added details of his own, including recovering both Jillian and Tanner, as well as their search of the old sanitarium.

“We found a journal,” Jillian said. She pulled a leather book from behind her back.

Knight straightened a bit, surprised he hadn’t heard about this yet. Shay and Brynn were also paying closer attention.

“Fiona or one of the other girls must have taken it when they escaped the Magi,” Jillian continued. “It was written by a Magi scientist who doesn’t name himself, but he mentions ‘A.A.’ so I can guess this isn’t Atwood’s journal.”

A blast of relief came from Brynn, and she sagged a little into Rook.

“What’s in the journal?” Shay asked.

“Proof of how poorly your mother was treated by the Magi. How they felt about her, and the lies they told to her daughters to keep them in line.”

Instead of surprise or grief, Shay’s face hardened with anger. “Fiona and the others had that?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t understand,” Brynn said. “Fiona told me that the Magi treated our mother like royalty, and that the loup threw her away.”

“I can’t explain that,” Jillian said. “And we can’t ask Fiona to, either. It’s possible Fiona lied in order to win you over. Calling the Magi twisted sons of bitches who tortured your mother wouldn’t have endeared her to you.”

“Nothing Fiona had to say would have endeared her to me.”

“Was anything else in the journal?” Shay asked.

Jillian nodded, fingers clutching the leather volume. “Fiona began writing in it after the Magi’s scribbling ended. She vented her hatred of the Magi, especially the one who raped her. She vowed vengeance on them. Once she and her sisters were free of their magical constraints, Fiona realized how powerful they were. She wanted to wipe out”—she made finger quotes—“the lesser species.”