I wanted to ask if there was ever an appropriate time for me to be glib, because it seemed like all the times I did it weren’t the right ones. I unlocked my front door after a long struggle with the key and let myself in to the dark apartment. We both breathed at each other over the phone and said nothing.
“I thought you would hate me,” I admitted, putting the container of donor blood bags in the fridge. “And I wanted to avoid knowing that as long as I could. ”
“I don’t hate you,” he replied, his voice almost a whisper.
“Dominick says you needed me back so you could assert your authority better. He says I’m the pack protector now. ”
“Yes, but that’s not why I needed you back. ”
I made a mental note to ask him more about my new position within the pack later, because this didn’t seem like the appropriate time to change the subject. “Why, then?”
He sucked in a breath, and I could hear him pacing back and forth over a hardwood floor. It sounded like he was in his bedroom suite at the hotel. He’d come in from the country, and being so close to the full moon, with an unsteady pack on his hands, meant he’d come for only one reason. Me.
I sat on one of the two small stools in my puny little kitchen and let my head rest against the wall behind me. Neither of us spoke for a long time. “Tell me why, Lucas. ”
“I needed you back because…” He searched for the right words, which I already knew, but had to hear him say.
“Say it,” I whispered.
“Because I love you. ”
After what felt like an eternity, I said, “I forgive you. ” Then I hung up.
Chapter Sixteen
Try as I might, I couldn’t relax after my conversation with Lucas. I attempted to watch TV, but I couldn’t focus on what people were saying in the cheery 1960s romantic comedy I had on. I tried to fall asleep early, but I was too amped up from the blood. When I willingly picked up Rio and scratched her behind the ears, I knew I had to leave the apartment.
The purring kitten protested with little mewls as I tied up my running shoes, but I ignored her. I dug my iPod out of the bedside dresser and was thrilled to see it had maintained a little battery life since I’d been gone. Enough for a run, anyway.
Back in Central Park for the second time that night, this time with only an hour or so until sunrise, I turned my iPod on and began to run. My running music of choice was a mix of Nina Simone and Bob Seger, which wouldn’t make sense to most, but the slower pace of the music kept me from running too fast. If I ran at the speed I was capable of, it might draw unnecessary attention.
Not that anyone was outside right then to witness it, but it was always best to keep up my illusions whenever I could. If you got too sloppy, it could spell trouble later on when it really mattered. Bob began to sing “Night Moves”, and I let my feet fall into step with the music as I headed towards the Ramble. Being in the deeper woods reminded me of Elmwood and made my wolf half feel relaxed.
The music took me away from my thoughts, and running on the twisty hills and unpaved paths of the Ramble meant I had to pay attention to something other than the churning worry in my gut. The night was still hot, but it no longer smothered me, and every so often I would round a bend and feel the reward of a slight breeze over my cheeks.
After about ten minutes, and in the middle of Nina Simone’s “Feelin’ Good”, I heard a sound, like the crack of weight on dry wood, that made me stop dead. I ripped the headphones out of my ears and stood, not breathing, in the middle of a low path with rock faces rising above me and the moon reflecting off the surface of the pond to my right.
I was so still I could have heard anything, from a rabbit moving in the brush, to the swishing feet of the swans in the water. A pair of joggers came down the path towards me, their feet slapping pavement in perfect unison. They nodded to me as they passed, and I turned to watch them until they were gone. The sound of their shoes was nothing like the noise that had made me stop, but I was prepared to admit my music might have distorted my perception. I pivoted back to the path.
Where I walked directly into Sig.
I kept from screaming, but just barely, and only because I recognized him. Even so, he’d doubtlessly noticed the change in my heartbeat and could probably smell the fear I was feeling.
“Nice night for a run,” he said.
I could have killed him.
Sig couldn’t have looked more pleased with himself. He was wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and well-tailored black slacks. The slacks made me wonder what happened to the brown leather pants he used to favor so much. He had his hands placed in his front pockets and was barefoot as usual.
I often marveled at how Sig moved around the city without bothering to put on shoes and never seemed to be any worse for it. Vampires couldn’t fly, but he must have had some uncanny gift to keep from stepping on glass. It made me wonder if he left the comfort of the Tribunal a
ll that often, or if coming to see me was more unusual than I had previously considered.
He rocked back on his heels and smiled his sly smile at me. The Tribunal leader was up to something.
“If you’re here to kidnap me, I’ve had my quota for this month, thanks. ”
“Nonsense, Secret. If I wanted you to come with me, you’d come. ”