Page 77 of Sight of Fate

Pulling on underwear, I slide the hangers along the rail. Where are my favorite jeans? Not seeing them, I grab a pair of new ones from the collection, and slip them on, then dash to the mirror. My butt looks…good in the dark jeans. Curvy. With a grin, I hurry back and shove my feet into socks and the tall boots I wore on my date with Teague, then tuck the jeans inside. Fuchsia blouse. I throw the long, black wool coat over my arm and grab my phone and purse.

Striding into the living room, I have to admit I feel good in the clothes they bought me. Better than the worn ones I’ve been carefully repairing to make them last. I twirl, showing off my outfit, and Teague smirks, like he knows I’ve given in.

Macklin’s eyes travel from my perky ponytail down my leather-clad feet. His hand reaches out and takes my coat from me, helping me into it. “Breathtaking.”

I slide my hand into the crook of his elbow and stare up at the man in front of me. Macklin’s immaculately carved face is framed perfectly by a thick, cable-knit turtleneck in a dark navy that matches his intense eyes. Black jeans and a black bomber jacket lend him a dangerous air that is only further enhanced by his size.

“We’ll meet you at the hospital at ten,” he tells Teague, his eyes never leaving me. “Say bye, Teague.”

“Bye, Teague,” I repeat in a husky tone.

Macklin’s mouth descends the second we’re in the elevator, and I realize how much last night changed things. I slide my fingers through his black hair and press my body against his.

Cold air fills the confined space, and I shiver.

Macklin curses. “Sorry. I should have done that the moment I saw you.”

I laugh and tug him into the garage. “You’re good for my ego.” He raises a brow, and I shake my head. “Come on. I’m hungry.”

He mutters. “So am I.” But he leans down and lifts me up into his truck, which is already running with the heat on.

“We could have walked,” I tell him when he slides into the driver’s seat, but he shakes his head.

Downtown is packed with people, and it takes several minutes to find a parking spot. “What’s going on? Is it a festival or sidewalk sale?”

His lips press together. “What happened to you was unacceptable. Not only because you’re Andros’ and Teague’s mate, although that would be reason enough, but because Greystone should be safe for anyone who wants to be out alone at night.”

I grip the door. “What did you do?”

“We made a statement. A graphic one.” His gaze is steady when he shuts off the truck and turns to me. “Are you sure you want me to tell you?”

I nod, holding my breath.

“We put their heads on a pike with their balls in their mouth. There will be no funerals. No burials. Scavengers will pick their bones clean. And when Lawson brings back the fifth shifter’s head, we’ll do the same,” Macklin states, an underlying current of fury in his voice.

Maybe I should be repulsed, but every time I close my eyes, I see the excitement and cruelty in their eyes, hear their jeering laughter, and smell their desperation. Their depravity is a tangible, bitter taste in my mouth.

“What about the witch? The one who spelled the crystal rocks so nobody could hear my screams?”

“Her name is Sylvia,” he informs me. “She sells them in her shop. Didn’t know they were going to use them for that purpose. She’s going to add a nasty little spell to her crystals in case someone tries to use them for the wrong reason again.”

“Thank you.” I lean over and cup the back of his neck, my lips finding his in a sweet kiss. “Now, feed me, Seymour.”

He scoffs. “You’re not old enough to quote that movie.”

“My mother had an odd sense of humor. She loved that movie. Even—” My voice trails off, and it dawns on me that I’m in a relationship with them and they don’t know who I am. Or rather, who I was. I take a deep breath and finish my sentence. “My real name is Audrey, not Charli.”

Satisfaction, not surprise, flares in Macklin’s eyes. “You don’t look like an Audrey to me, but we can call you whatever you wish.”

It’s odd. I’ve actually thought about this quite a lot. I changed my name when I went on the run to hide from Hank and the hackers he hired, and in the beginning, I cried a lot, thinking I’d lost me, along with everyone else. But I came to realize Charli is who I am now, and Audrey belongs to the person I was before my mother died.

“Charli suits me. You don’t seem surprised,” I return, crossing my arms.

“We knew you were hiding, and the initial background check the company does on every employee couldn’t find a Charli Ford in the system,” Macklin returns with a shrug. “As you know, that’s why Teague ran your prints.”

My stomach growls, and his mouth firms.

“Food first, then we’ll go home and talk. With Teague,” he states, getting out of the vehicle before I can protest and coming to my side to help me out. He grasps my elbow and tugs me toward the bakery.