From the Ashes (Force of Nature Book 1) (17 page)

“I don't think this thing was built to withstand the rigorous workout you're planning on putting it through.”

“It's not the sofa that's going to get the workout,” he whispered in my ear, his voice low and gravelly, filled with need.

“Aw, c'mon, you two! You have a room—two of them, in fact,” Dean called out from the entrance to the media room. When Merc and I paused to look up at him, he sauntered in to join us, standing at the near end of the couch. “So, looks like Jase's theory panned out.”

“I would say so,” I agreed as I looked up at his looming presence.

“Well, I hate to break up your little reunion, but the king wants a word with us. I need you down in the meeting hall, Merc. Now.”

With a nod, he climbed off of me, then helped me out of the sag he'd created in the sofa.

“I will find you when this is done,” he said to me before bending down to kiss me again. It was still full of passion and it made me blush when he pulled away, knowing full well that Dean had been staring at us.

Dean groaned and turned away, headed for the door.

“I think I liked you two more when you were apart,” he groused as he exited.

I looked up to find Merc staring down at me, smiling.

“You're enjoying this a bit too much, you know that, right?” I asked him.

He nodded once before taking his leave as well.

Brothers,
I thought to myself, then laughed. But that laughter died off quickly when I realized the implications of the conversation they were likely having down in the meeting room. The king demanding an audience rarely, if ever, was good. Merc's words echoed in my mind.
Not if, but when...

Perhaps 'when' was upon us.

11

“So you're telling me that the king is setting up a meeting with all the leaders of the various supernatural races?” I asked, unable to hide my incredulity. “But why do that if the treaty is going to fall? Isn't that suicide? It will be a melee!”

“And that's why he wants us there,” Jase said calmly, stating the obvious. “He's trying for a last-ditch effort to stop the madness before it all begins.”

“His version of a Hail Mary,” Dean added.

“Aren't things too far gone at this point to even try?”

Jase shrugged.

“He has to. The others have historically followed his lead. If he wishes to meet, they will. If he wishes to keep the peace, perhaps they will try harder to do the same.”

Reinhardt sure as hell hasn't...

“It all sounds pretty shaky to me,” I mumbled to myself.

“Us too,” Dean agreed from his post against the wall on the far side of the media room. “But we have no choice. The king doesn't either. He has to try.”

“And he wants
all
of you there, right?” I asked, turning my gaze to Merc. “I mean, wouldn't your...
gifts
be handy in this situation?”

The question was innocent enough—at least I'd meant it to be—but the response of all three of them was far from what I'd expected.

“They would, but I have been ordered to stay behind.” Merc forced the words out as though they pained him greatly.

“Careful, Piper,” Jase cautioned. “What Merc can do—it comes at a price. And his gifts are not something that should be advertised. The king has worked very hard to keep Merc's abilities under wraps. You need to do the same.”

“I'm sorry,” I said, feeling embarrassed. “I didn't know. I just assumed—”

“Assumptions are dangerous,” Merc said, pushing off of the chair he was sitting in. Without another word, he walked out of the room, disappearing down the adjacent hall.

Jase and Dean shared a look, then returned their focus to me.

“Tread lightly when it comes to Merc's ability, Piper. I know he's been better since he's no longer feeding from you, but when it comes to his gifts, his stability can be...precarious,” Jase said, coming to put his arm around me.

“What he's trying to say is that those gifts can cause a shit ton of damage in their wake, both directly and indirectly,” Dean added. “Because of that, he's often left out of scenarios that seem to call for him most of all. The king learned that the hard way once. He can't risk it again.”

I thought carefully about what Dean was saying (and not saying, for that matter). There was subtext there that I couldn't quite find. But I would have bet my life on the fact that it was linked to where Merc was before he’d returned and why he was sent there.

“For Merc to influence that many minds at once would come at a price that none of us could possibly fathom. He would likely never be the same again.”

“Making him a liability,” I added, seeing where the conversation was headed.

“Exactly.”

“So he's being left behind? He's staying home while the rest of you go?”

“Yes. And he's not too happy about it,” Jase said, looking at the doorway Merc had stormed through.

“Yeah, I gathered that,” I replied, following his gaze. “So when is this all taking place?”

“Two days. Something about a solstice or eclipse or some fucked up thing that the witches can't miss,” Dean explained, disgust in his voice. He never did much care for the witches once he’d learned they'd turned me away as a child. And once Dean decided he didn't like you, there was no changing that opinion.

“We have a lot to get in order before that time, so...” Jase said, tension overtaking his expression. “We're not going to be around much. I want you to make sure to stick close to Kat when you can, okay?”

“Yeah. Sure,” I replied absentmindedly. “Is Merc going to be helping you guys?”

The boys exchanged another look.

“We're not sure yet. Listen, I don't want you to worry about him, but his thoughts...they're escaping his control.”

“Meaning?” I asked, stepping in front of Jase.

“It's like he's talking to himself—but we can hear him. Like silent outbursts.”

“And what is he saying?” I pressed, my eyes narrowing.

“Nothing in particular. He's just angry and ranting. He'll cool down soon. It took a lot for him to get through the meeting with the king and not flip out. He's just venting in his own way now.”

“You're worried about him,” I said, my statement sounding more like an accusation.

“Not really. He's been like this before and been fine in the end,” he said, exhaling heavily.

“But...?”

“But I don't want to be wrong about that, so I'm asking you to stay next to Kat whenever you can to minimize any potential risk, regardless of how minute it might be or how insane I might sound for thinking there is something to worry about in the first place. I'd rather be safe than sorry.”

“He won't hurt me,” I said confidently, staring Jase down. Then I turned to give Dean the same look. I wanted them to know that I believed in my mate, even if they didn't.

“I'm sure you’re right,” he said, softening his expression. “Just humor me, okay? You've done worse than that before.” His boyish smile spread wide, eliciting one from me. The charms of Jase and Dean were impossible to ignore.

“Fine. I'll stick with Kat whenever I can,” I said, stepping away from them to go and search for something to eat, then my unwitting werewolf bodyguard. “He'll prove you wrong, you two. Mark my words.”

I heard Dean mumble something to Jase in response, but I was too far away from them to make out the words. Knowing him, he was grousing already, well aware that I would gloat about being right for a solid two weeks once all the pressing chaos was sorted out. Until then, it was a wait-and-see situation. Not exactly my favorite kind.

* * *

Those two days needed for preparations flew by at an impossible speed.

I did as the boys asked and kept Kat at my side whenever possible (short of hopping in bed with her and Jensen), but it all seemed for naught. Merc had managed to balance himself out, his anger very much under control. When others were present, he was silent, which was pretty much the status quo, but he was also thoughtful and sweet. There was no shred of the hostility he had felt toward the king for leaving him out or the other enforcers for getting to attend the meeting without him. All I saw was the man who had stood before me in the rain outside the king's mansion, asking me to be his.

Every time I thought about that moment, it made me smile.

When it was time for the treaty negotiations to take place, a sea of enforcers flooded the front yard, filing into massive black SUVs. I looked over to find Kat kissing Jensen goodbye before getting into her own vehicle. She said she couldn't stand the thought of staying at home to worry, so she'd asked me if it was okay for her to pick up an extra shift at the bar. I didn't care. A little alone time with Merc sounded pretty good as far as I was concerned. We hadn't had much since our initial return home after being bonded.

He probably needed a good distraction himself.

Jase and Dean came over to Merc and me, had a brief silent conversation with him, then gave me a hug before they too departed. I stood beside my mate as the convoy of vehicles drove off. Nervous but hopeful, he and I awaited their return. Whatever happened, we would have news before sunrise.

With a heavy sigh, I turned and made my way back toward the mansion. When I realized I was alone, I looked over my shoulder to find Merc staring off in the direction everyone else had just gone.

“They'll be all right,” I said softly, hoping to assuage his concern.

Instead, my words seemed to anger him

“I do not need your reassurance. I am well aware of what they are capable of handling,” he said, turning to pin cold, dead blue eyes on me.

“I'm sorry. I was just—”

“Sorry...” he said, the word rolling off his tongue as though it were offensive to him. “You're always sorry. Sorry is for the weak, Piper. Apologizing is for the weak. Weakness is beneath me, as it is you. Perhaps it is time to stop your sniveling and start acting like a woman deserving of your position at my side.” He walked toward me slowly, a menacing wall of man. “If this is how you intend to behave in their collective absence, do us both a favor and remain out here until they return.”

With that, he strode past me into the house, never once looking back.

Tears welled in my eyes. I hated both them and myself in that moment. I was proving him right. I was weak, and that weakness was repugnant to him. It dawned on me that every time he'd ever snapped at me the way he just had was when I'd acted fearful. Been overly concerned for those that did not need it. It wasn't my blood that was the problem.

It was me.

With that reality pressing down upon me, I wondered just what I'd gotten myself into. I was bonded to a male that loved who I was capable of being at times, but not the person I regressed to in times of stress. When my fear for myself or others consumed me. Unfortunately, it seemed that both behaviors were equally possible when a crisis presented itself.

And that didn't bode well for my future with Merc.

I stared up at the crescent moon above, letting it bathe my face in its silver-blue glow. If I could not find the bravery inside, there would be no fixing Merc and me. It was then that yet another reality settled upon my mind. Jase and Dean were wrong; Merc could most definitely hurt me.

Just not how they'd feared he would.

12

I stayed outside for hours—as long as I could—but the cold was starting to seep into my bones. It drove me to the warmth of the mansion. Once there, I intended to find an innocuous space to hunker down and await the others' return, but it seemed as though Merc had a different plan.

One that I didn't enjoy in the least.

I was in the library, curled up on the floor in front of the wood-burning fireplace, a book in my hands. Just as I turned the page to start the sixth chapter, Merc's voice startled me.

“Have you managed to pull yourself together yet?” he asked, leaning against the door frame. His broad shoulders seemed to fill the only exit in the room. There was an evenness to his tone, but I was not convinced. It belied the rage boiling up within him.

“Yes,” I said, forcing a smile. “I thought I'd take my mind off of things with a little fiction. I always loved to escape into stories when I was young.”

“Escape, too, is for the weak,” he said, the chill of his words cutting through me like the cold night air outside.

“I guess I never looked at it that way,” I replied calmly, swallowing hard against my rising fear. One of the reasons I'd survived as long as I had was my ability to defuse a situation—or at least until recently. I hoped to employ every tactic I'd ever used to calm Merc.

Providing that was even possible.

“Of course you didn't,” he said, taking a slow, methodical step into the room. “Stand up.” His words were not a request.

Obeying him, I shrugged off the blanket encircling me and stood.