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"So you and Adam are ... together?"
She frowned, then caught my meaning and laughed. "Oh, God, no. We've been friends since we were kids. Trust me, we know each other too well for anything else." She walked to the mini-fridge. "Can I get you something to drink? I have bottled water, diet soda. Nothing stronger, I'm afraid."
"That's okay."
"Just get on with it, right?"
"I didn't mean--"
She waved a hand. "Don't worry. I know you're tired and, again, I apologize for bugging you. It's just, well, I'm working on specs, blueprints and such for the compound. I know we don't need them right away but, well, I want to keep busy. It's easier--" She nibbled at her lower lip, looked away. "Easier if I have something to do, keep my mind occupied."
I knew what she meant. Last year when two of my Pack brothers died, only action had assuaged my grief. I'd thrown myself into plotting against the mutts who'd killed them, partly for revenge and partly to keep from dwelling on their deaths. In preparing for our onslaught against those who'd killed Ruth, Paige was doing the same. I understood that.
"I've got most of it done already," she said, passing me a notebook from the table. "All I need is for you to fill in a few blanks."
I flipped through her notes. "Actually, Jeremy has most of this. You could--"
"Get it from him. Right. Sure." She turned, but not before I saw disappointment flicker across her face. "Guess I should have known he'd be two steps ahead of me. Okay, then, well, that's all I wanted. Sorry about that. I wasn't thinking."
"Oh, wait. There's a couple of things here Jeremy hadn't asked," I lied. "Tell you what. I'm not tired yet. How about I fill in every thing you're missing. Even if I've already told Jeremy, it never hurts to have two copies."
"Oh?" For the first time since I'd arrived, her smile touched her eyes. "That's great. Thanks."
Like I said, I knew how she felt. Well, I didn't know exactly how she felt, having no idea how close she'd been to her aunt, but I understood that she needed something to do, something to make her feel that she was taking action. Providing that was the least I could do.
When we finished, I offered to spend the night in Paige's room, arguing that Cassandra seemed in no rush to return and that Jeremy was sharing our room, so no one would be alone even if I stayed. Paige refused. She assured me her lock spells would keep out most intruders and her protection spells would warn her if anyone bypassed the locks. I suspected she wanted to be alone with her grief, so I didn't push the matter.
That night I dreamed of escaping the compound. Over and over. Each time the circumstances differed, but one element remained the same. I left Savannah behind. Sometimes I forgot about her until I was outside and it was too late. At other times my guilt was more obvious. I ran past her cell and I didn't stop. I heard her calling my name and I didn't stop. I saw Leah reach out to grab her ... and I didn't stop. Finally as the dream replayed its umpteenth version, I was running for the open exit door. Then Savannah appeared on the other side, urging me on. I stopped. I turned around. And I ran the other way.
I bolted upright, gasping for breath. Clay was awake, holding me, brushing the sweat-sodden hair from my face.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.
As I shook my head, his arms tightened, but I didn't look at his face. Didn't want to. This wasn't something I could discuss with him. He'd only try to convince me that I'd done the right thing getting myself out safely. If the situation were reversed, would I want Clay risking his life to save a stranger? Of course not. But the point would be moot because Clay would never take any risk to save a stranger. He'd throw himself in front of a bullet to protect his Pack, but he wouldn't stop to help an accident victim. If I was there, he'd do it to please me, but if he was alone, the thought would never cr
oss his mind.
I didn't expect Clay to care about Savannah. Well, maybe I still held out hope that he'd develop a social conscience, but I'd learned that such a change ranked alongside world peace on the scale of well-meaning but naive wishes. Clay cared about his Pack and only his Pack. How could I expect him to understand my guilt over Savannah?
As I eased back into Clay's arms, I noticed Jeremy across the room, propped on his elbow, watching me from the cot. He lifted his brows in an unspoken question. Did I want to talk to him instead? I gave a small shake of my head and lowered myself onto the bed. I could sense them both watching me, but closed my eyes and feigned sleep. Eventually the room went still. When it did, I slipped onto my back and lay there in the dark, thinking.
Had I jumped to conclusions earlier, when I decided it had been Leah causing the trouble and framing Savannah? What if I persuaded Jeremy to strike early, then discovered I'd been mistaken? What if people died because of that mistake? And what if I did nothing and Savannah died because of that mistake? I had to find a middle ground. If we had enough information, acting swiftly would be to our advantage. Did we know enough? Or, more accurately, what were our chances of learning more? Pretty slim. We had the data I'd gathered from inside the compound, plus what Clay had learned from scouting the site, plus what the others had uncovered in their research. Whatever we didn't know by now, we'd likely never find out. We had to concentrate on formulating a plan--
Outside, a neighboring door clicked. I tensed and listened. Our group occupied all the rooms at this end. Was someone going out? No, wait. It was probably Cassandra returning. I checked the clock. Two thirty-five. Oh, that's great. We ask her to keep an eye on Paige and she takes off for half the night. Paige might not want to tattle, but I would. Jeremy needed to know we couldn't rely on Cassandra to back up Paige.
As I reclined onto the pillow, I heard shoes scuff against pavement outside. I glanced at Clay and Jeremy. Sound asleep. I eased out of bed and tiptoed to the window. Lifting a drapery corner, I peered out to see Paige stealing across the parking lot, suitcase in one hand, notebook in the other. Shit!
Being careful not to wake the guys, I tugged on my jeans and shirt and crept out the door. Paige rounded the bird pen and vanished into the darkness beyond. Barefooted, I scampered after her, one eye on my target, the other on the pavement, watching for broken glass. When I reached the bird pen, a pheasant roused itself, opened one sleepy eye, then squawked and jetted into the air. Damn it! Sometimes there were serious disadvantages to being a werewolf. Even as I lunged away from the cage, several other birds awoke and added their voices to the din. So much for a stealthy approach. I raced through the grove of trees where I'd last seen Paige and found her in an auxiliary parking lot. She stood beside a car, frowning in the direction of the panicking birds. When she saw me, she fumbled with the keys, barely getting the door open before I arrived.
"Uh, hi," she said, faking a bright smile. "You're out late."
"Going somewhere?" I asked.
"Ummm, just out for something to eat." She backed into the driver's seat. "The stuff you brought me got cold so I thought I'd go see if I can find a 7-11 or something."
"You won't mind if I join you then," I said as I snapped the passenger door lock and slid inside. I gestured to her suitcase. "Hell of a purse you've got there."
She laid her hands on the steering wheel spokes, paused, then glanced at me. "I'm leaving, Elena. I know this is a bad way to do it, but I was afraid someone would try to stop me. It's too much for me. I'm backing out."
