Chapter 45


    Chapter Forty-Five


    JACE


    Morgan boards the ne and makes herselffortable in the back. This is one of our


    Corporate fleet, a Cessna Citation XLS. It’s decked out and I smile at her as she reaches for the basket


    of snacks.


    When she took me by the hand, I’d been hoping she’d lead me to bed. But bless this witch, she


    dragged me out of the house and in short order we are readying to break into her coven’sboratories.


    Jacob climbs the steps and boards.


    He takes one look at her, one at me.


    “I’ll debrief you while we’re en route.”


    He shrugs.


    It’s one of the things I like most about him. This wolf can roll with the punches. He introduces himself to


    Morgan then takes his seat at the rear of the ne where he begins setting up his electronics.


    “You know how to fly this thing?” Morgan asks.


    She looks more curious than worried.


    “I finished my training hoursst week,” I tell her.


    She snickers.


    Jacob nces between us. He arches a brow.


    I let one side of my mouth lift up.


    Yeah, I fell for a witch.


    He grunts.


    Conversationplete.


    Pretty much the same kind of conversation that took ce when I told him I needed his skills for a trip


    to California.


    “Dangerous?” he’d asked.


    “Yup,” I said.


    “Okay.”


    “We’re wheels up in two,” I say as I continue my pre-flight analysis.


    “Might want to rethink that, boss.” Jacob points out the window.


    What? “Why?”


    And then I see them.


    Michail and Den.


    They’ve parked in the hangar and are walking across the tarmac.


    I brace myself for what could be a fight. These wolves are my friends but their loyalty to pack is


    absolute. And I have no clearance for this.


    Sure, Cam told me to ‘Deal with it,’ but I’m taking a whole lot of liberty with that decree.


    “Oh… great,” Morgan mutters. “More friends.”


    She isn’t really angry about it, but I do think she’s lessfortable than she was when it was just me,


    her and Jacob.


    The wolves of my pack haven’t exactly been kind to her and that whole burn-her-alive scenario at the


    Circle was probably going to take a few minutes to forget.


    “We’re all on the same team,” I remind her. And that’s true, at least in our goal to save Merilee. Outside


    of that goal, I’d be lying. She’s made a lot of enemies.


    I can’t even say I’m sure of Michail’s or Den’s motives as they approach now.


    I join my thoughts to theirs. If you n to stop us…that’s not happening.


    I brace for a fight that may being. These are two of the fiercest wolves in our pack.


    Den sighs in my mind. That’s insulting, Jace.


    Morgan can’t hear our thoughts. She doesn’t know that these wolves are here to help. She rolls her


    hand and a ball of fire appears in her palm. She winks at me.


    I grin.


    Michail boards first. He’s wearing sunsses and one of those Tommy Bahama shirts that make sense


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    on a retiree but somehow cool on him. He eyes the meball Morgan’s bouncing and instead of taking


    offense, he justughs. He goes to sit beside Jacob.


    He doesn’t say a word to me. Not in my mind, not out loud.


    Which is his own message I suppose.


    It’s the equivalent of, “You didn’t ask, but I’ming anyway, asshole.”


    Okay.


    Den’s next. He carries two massive duffel bags in each hand. From the tter they make when they


    hit the floor, I know he’se ‘prepared’ enough for all of us.


    Den scans the tarmac before he closes and seals the door.


    “Hello Morgan,” he says quietly. Then he moves into the cockpit and sits beside me.


    We go through the motions of prepping the ne for takeoff.


    Right before we’re ready to leave, I turn back to Morgan. “It’s not toote. We can do this without you.”


    I say it because I don’t want her hurt, and if there’s a bounty on her head, I don’t want her anywhere


    near her coven. But the reality is we’re waaay out of our element.


    Her eyes sh to white. It’s eerie.


    It’s thrilling.


    Her power grows and she touches one finger to the side of her seat. In the next second a shock of


    electricity jolts me in the ass.


    “Morgan.”


    “We’ve been over this, wolf. We go… together.”


    * * * * * * * * * *


    MIA


    It’s a map of New Orleans.


    I’ve never been.


    There was talk when I was sixteen of a roadtrip, but the guys took off and I was stuck home. Even


    ire got to go. She came back with beads, big booze cups and an entire suitcase of bei mix and


    tins of cafe auit from some ce called Cafe Du Monde.


    I always wanted to visit that city.


    I just didn’t think I’d be doing it to meet a mother I’d thought my whole life was dead.


    I scribble a note for my dad.


    He’ll understand. At least, I think he will. Hell, maybe all of this was already ‘foreseen’ and I can bypass


    this step altogether.


    No. I need to tread lighter here.


    My dad…


    He let what happened to me happen …because it had to?


    I’m not sure how I feel about that.


    As a mother, what would I have done in his shoes? And how would I feel if I’d carried such knowledge


    for my child’s whole life?


    That was a heavy burden for him.


    Who’s to say what would’ve urred had I stayed? Cam was cursed. Ashley was vicious and vengeful.


    Maybe I would’ve lost my babies.


    Maybe I would’ve died at one–or both–of their hands.


    I rub my head. The mental gymnastics are exhausting.


    A note. Get back to writing the note. My dad’s letter was simple. I told him I needed to leave. He knew


    why. I signed it that I loved him.


    This second letter… the pen stills as I write my kids’ names.


    Jacelyn, Aaron…


    There are a thousand things I want to say. Comforting things, encouraging things, apologies and


    exnations.


    How does a mother craft herst words to her children?


    No.


    I can’t think like that. I wille back. I will survive.


    I love you always. And will be with you forever.


    I want to tell them to be strong, to be happy. To find joy in every day. But they’re kids and they need


    me, not some note with a bunch of fortune-cookie sayings. God, I can be so dramatic sometimes.


    I content myself with the knowledge that my kids know that I love them. And, much as I hate to admit it,


    here among Healmsworth Pack, they’ll be surrounded by love too.


    I’m not sure what tomorrow will bring. Or even if what I’m doing is right or will make any difference. But


    everyone else seems to know more about my life, my body, my future. And it’s time I found some


    answers for myself.


    I shove some of my old clothes into a bag.


    There isn’t much to grab. Some jeans, a pair of shoes. I can hit a store for whatever I might need. As


    for money, I have a few ounts I can ess.


    I’ll need to get off pds first…


    I calcte the shortest route to the main road.


    With my mind made up, I head out of the house.


    “Well, well, well… where do you think you’re going?”