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“I think I know how to get beaten up. ” I pointed to my matching set of black eyes.

“I mean they’re used to it. ”

“And I’m not?”

“You’ve never been beaten down so hard you couldn’t get back up again,” Desmond answered for her. “You’ve never had to wonder if you’d come out of a fistfight alive. And I’ve never been as worried for you before as I was tonight. ”

That was saying something considering how many close calls with my life Desmond had seen me through.

“I’m not running,” I said flatly.

Desmond sat back on the coffee table, and Brigit looked torn between melancholy and joy. Happy to see me stay, I guessed, but sad I wouldn’t do my best to protect my own life. After what had happened with my mother’s pack tonight, there was no way I could run. Imagining what they might do to my friends to get to me had left me feeling cold and terrified. If I could keep them safe by staying around and keeping her attention focused on me, then I would do it.

“If you won’t run, you have to stay here,” Desmond said. “At least until we can figure out what to do. ” The last sentence hung in the air like an unintentional threat.

What was there to do?

I could think of three options, and none of them were ideal. One, I could have a late-in-life Awakening and become a full-blooded werewolf. I definitely had the DNA for it thanks to my mother, and we’d seen I was able to turn. If I were bitten now, it would mean I could maintain my position within the pack and no longer have to worry about how my vampire blood factored.

On the topic of vampires, there was option number two. Let myself be bitten and become a real vampire. Heartbeat gone, pulse gone, but I would belong on the Tribunal. Juan Carlos could stop trying to unearth my secrets, and the council would have no reason to question my authority. No pulse, no problems.

And last but not least was option three. Staying human.

For my whole damned life I had straddled an uneasy line between two worlds without feeling like I’d belonged to either of them. I was a vampire and a werewolf, but I didn’t fit with either culture. I’d dreamed often of excommunicating myself from the supernatural drama and having a normal life. Now I was within spitting distance of living my dream, only to realize I had no way to make it possible.

But giving up now was like being in the middle of a marathon and someone telling you to stop because there was a chance you might be tripped before the finish line. Except in my case, instead of getting tripped I’d probably have my throat ripped out either by a social-climbing vampire or my own mother.

“I can’t just sit here. There’s something I have to do. ”

“What could possibly be so important you need to do it right now?” Desmond asked.

“Lucas asked—”

“Secret. ” His tone had gone flat, and a cold, almost dead quality filled his eyes. “No. ”

“It’s not for him, it’s Kellen. ”

“I don’t care if he asked you to go save African orphans. You’re not doing a favor for Lucas right now. There’s no fucking way. ”

“I need to check on Kellen. ”

Desmond rifled through his pocket, then handed me a cellphone. “Call her. ”

“I need to see her,” I insisted. “Lucas says she’s not leaving her apartment and she’s been weird since we got back. I need to know she’s okay. I’m worried something happened to her while she was away. ”

“Something like?”

“Like getting raped and impregnated by a fairy,” I said harshly.

My words got the point across because Desmond was quiet and looked abashed for fighting with me over it.

“Okay, we’ll go. ” He waited and watched me. If I knew Desmond—and myself—he was waiting for me to insist I wanted to go alone. I might have, in the past, but I was stubborn, not stupid. I had no intention of risking my life to see Kellen.

“Can we take your car?” I asked. “Mine might be under observation. People might not know what happened, but Mercy is obviously gunning for me. I wouldn’t put anything past her. ”

“Yeah, that’s…well, that’s actually what I was going to suggest. ” He gave a small smile. “Great minds, I guess. ”

“We both want me to live. That’s a start. ”

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