“You just had to point out the glaring holes in my plan, didn’t you?” I smiled back at her, and the warmth of her love for me briefly staved off my guilt. I could barely believe I’d saved her. She could have been taken from me, and the only real family I’d known would be gone with her.
In my adult life I’d built approximations, but nothing to match the bond I felt to her. I loved my sister Eugenia, but we still barely knew each other. I loved Ben, but the way one loves a person they are only bonded to with blood. In time I might grow to like him, but for now it was a forced kind of love I couldn’t help but feel. I loved Keaty, but kept my heart at a safe distance. I’d loved Brigit like a sister, but…
Grandmere was the North on my compass. She was the reason I knew I could love at all because I loved her so fiercely I would kill a thousand Mercys if it meant protecting her. There were only a handful of people I would lay down my life for, and she was first among them.
“I cannot believe I agreed to come along,” she said.
Grandmere hadn’t set foot in Louisiana since I was a baby. As far as I knew, she hadn’t been back to the South since we left South Carolina when I was four. That was almost twenty years away from the place she’d called home for much of her life.
Almost twenty-four years since she’d seen her son.
And now I was bringing her back.
I hadn’t forced her to join us, but I’d made it clear I didn’t like the idea of leaving her behind after everything that had gone down. Even though she was out of danger—as far as I knew—I still wasn’t ready to let her out of my sight. She’d agreed to come along so quickly I wondered if maybe she hadn’t been waiting for an excuse.
Convincing the pilot had been another kettle of fish entirely. Since he was technically on retainer to the vampire council, he didn’t love the idea of flying us anywhere but New York. I guess the vampires only had one jet, and I’d been hogging it.
When I reminded him of my position at the head of the council he worked for, he’d stopped arguing. I had a nagging suspicion he was going to call Sig up and tattle on me once we were in the air, though. My authority must not have been very commanding with the bruise still fading over my nearly healed cheekbone and the claw marks that had turned my jacket sleeve to ribbons.
When Desmond suggested I throw it out, I almost cried again.
Funny how something as silly as a jacket could come to mean so much to me, but the damned thing had survived some incredibly hellish situations. I wasn’t about to throw it out now.
Besides which, it had been a present. Sort of, considering I don’t think Dominick had meant for me to keep it when he loaned it to me originally.
A few hours into our flight I decided to get ahead of the bullet and text Sig myself. I sent him a quick message detailing what I knew about the drugs Arturo was supplying. Maybe if he could expose the West Coast leader for what he really was, a little of the heat would come off me. After all, what was worse: a traitor or a vampire with werewolf DNA?
I tried not to dwell on that question because the answer was obvious even to me.
Whatever happened with Arturo, the council wasn’t going to be jumping at the opportunity to forgive me for my lie. Politics wasn’t fun no matter which way I looked at it.
My phone buzzed with a reply from Sig.
Your vendetta is over. The time has come to return.
Thanks but no thanks. I replied, Something has come up with the wolves. I will be back as soon as I can.
A few seconds later I received, Do you think it wise to spend time amongst the wolves right now ;-)
I stared at the screen, and a bubbling snort of laughter escaped me. Had Sig seriously used a winky face emoticon in a text?
That was meant to be a question mark. This technology is infuriating. Who needs to type semicolon dash closed bracket that often?
He actually spelled out the words.
It’s a winking smiley face, I answered.
Foolishness. I am neither smiling nor winking.
That I believed one hundred percent, but it didn’t stop me from giggling whenever I looked back at his accidental wink.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
It was surprisingly warm in Baton Rouge when we landed. Coming from Manitoba to the Deep South meant we’d gone a long ways in running from the weather. I’d definitely experienced hotter, muggier weather in Louisiana, but it was a nice change from the chill we’d left.
A large transport van and a green SUV met our plane on the tarmac. I recognized our two liaisons immediately. Amelia, a middle-aged woman with silver-streaked hair, was Callum’s right-hand woman in situations like this. Her daughter, Magnolia, stood next to her, looking anxious.
Magnolia and Amelia couldn’t have been more different. Where Amelia was cold and domineering, Mags was warm and often too sweet for her own good. I had fond memories of only one of them.