“Can’t move.”
“Yeah.” He swallowed.“I’m having the same trouble.”
“Pretend we’re drunk.”
He huffed a short laugh.“I wish I was drunk.”
“How’d you find me?”
“Jezebel.”
“Ah.”
“I passed Daniela coming in,” he added.“She’s gone to get help.”
“Good.”I still didn’t know how he fit into all this, but at the moment, I didn’t care.I snuggled into him, letting the smell of clan surround me—musky, earthy, and indescribably sweet—and relaxed in spite of myself.A moment later, I was asleep.
* * *
Iopened my eyes tofind someone bending over me.At first, I thought it was Cyrus.But there were no snug jeans, soft flannel shirts, or cowboy boots in sight.Instead, the man by my bedside in what appeared to be a hospital room was wearing a crisp shirt and tie, subtle cufflinks, and pants with a crease sharp enough to cut yourself on.
He looked like Cyrus, though, except for a pair of pure blue eyes.As my vision returned, I noticed subtle other differences: a slightly broader jaw, a narrower mouth, and a more classic nose.His hair was dark, but not as curly, and was cut shorter.He looked older, too, by maybe four or five years.But, other than that, they could have been brothers.
“We are.”He settled himself on the chair that a nurse quickly scooted into place, and I realized I must have spoken aloud.“Could we have a moment, please?”
There seemed to be a lot of people around: doctors, nurses, and a bunch of heavily armed types who were obviously Weres despite being in human form.None of them was Cyrus.“How is—?”
He held up a hand, and we waited until everyone filed out and the door shut.“My brother is fine.As is my daughter, thanks to you.”
It took a moment for the implications of that short sentence to register.It was a good thing Cyrus was still alive, I decided.That way I got to kill him.“So I finally get to meet the great Sebastian.”
“And I am at last able to make the acquaintance of Larentia Lobizón’s daughter.I have heard much of you.”
“None of it good, I bet.”
“Until today, I’m afraid not.Your clan was quite displeased with you.”
“Was?”
“I took the liberty of acquiring you for Clan Arnou.My brother rather insisted upon it.”
I was pretty sure I’d missed something.“Why?”
“The vendetta.Arnou outranks Lobizón.Once they discover that you now belong to us, I expect the dispute to be quickly resolved.”
I didn’t doubt it, and it was a huge relief.But it also brought up another issue.“About the change—”
“It is each clan’s right to determine how aggressively rogues are pursued.”
“I’m not a rogue.”
“You are clan-born, yet refuse the change.By most clan’s laws, that makes you a rogue.”
“And in yours?”
“We have never forced anyone to undergo the change who does not choose to do so.For whatever reason.”
The unspoken word hung in the air between us, like the large, full moon outside.He had to know.He must have wondered why I was affected by a spell designed for Weres when I had refused the change.It wouldn’t have been difficult to have me tested for Neuri while I was out.But he said nothing, so I didn’t either.After a moment, he leaned over and kissed me lightly on the cheek.
