Twelfth Moon (31 page)

But it didn’t mean she wasn’t still furious with him.

She fisted her hands in her lap, slowly rocking back and forth. She wanted to go back and make those men pay. She hissed in anger. She was angry at herself for not sensing their presence sooner, and because she hadn’t torn their limbs off when she’d had the chance.

They might not be the ones who’d actually killed her mother, but they belonged to the same group who were responsible, had been about to do the same thing to her and Jonah. Those two men had claimed to be members of some self-righteous brotherhood –
Fraternitatis Lucis. Brotherhood of Light indeed
, she sneered inwardly. This brotherhood apparently believed they had the right to commit murder in the name of what…the greater good of humanity? Who were they to decide who lived or died?

They’d killed her mother in cold blood – her mother, who’d posed a threat to no one – leaving her father blinded, with three young daughters to raise. Apparently they hadn’t known about Cadence, Jaelene, and Kara, or they’d probably be dead too. What kind of monsters would murder small children? Cadence and her sisters may be able to shift into panthers, but it was this
Fraternitatis Lucis
who were the real animals.

Now they were after her and Jonah, and if they’d have succeeded today, Jaelene and Kara would no doubt have been next.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she sensed…something. Her eyes scanned the room. Nothing. Then she felt it. There was a sizzle in the air a moment before Jonah materialized in front of her. It was a little disconcerting to have him suddenly appear like that.

She sucked in her breath sharply at his disheveled state. He had a large bruise on one side of his face. His hair was a tangled mess, decorated with dried leaves. His clothes were rumpled, streaked with dirt, and torn in places. She sprang to her feet. “What happened?”

“They’re both dead.”

Even though it was what she’d anticipated, his confirmation still left her a little shaken. “You killed them.” As much as she’d wanted to do the deed herself, the bleak look on his face twisted her heart. She raised her hand, placing her palm gently on the bruised side of his face. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It had to be done. We both know that if they’d been allowed to live, they’d have gone back to their people and revealed our location.”

“Yes, but I just wish you weren’t the one who’d had to do it.”

True. It wasn’t what he’d wanted to do, either. Hell, if there had been any other way, Jonah would have gladly taken it. He wondered if those men had families – wives, children – someone waiting for them back home, wherever that may be. It sickened him, made him angry that these men’s actions today had sealed their fate – and Jonah’s. He covered her hand with his and looked down at her, his features softening. “I didn’t want
you
to do it, sweetheart—”

“But I would have – I wanted to.”

He grasped her hand, lowering it from his face and reached to take her other one. “Hush. I already know what it cost you when you thought you’d killed Robert. I never want you to feel that way again. Ever.”

Tears filled her eyes. That, along with all the other wonderful things about Jonah was the reason why she’d fallen in love with him. He’d taken the burden on himself, rather than allow her to carry the guilt with her for the rest of her life. And she knew she would have. Even so, she’d have done what was necessary to protect her family, and Jonah was part of that family now.

Those men had tried to kill them – most likely
would
have killed them if it hadn’t been for Jonah’s new gift. The predator in her accepted nature’s most fundamental law – in order to survive, one must kill or be killed. The woman in her, however, may not have been able to forgive herself. Jonah had known that about her.

Feeling suddenly weary, her shoulders slumped, the recent events finally having caught up with her. She collapsed into his arms. “Oh, Jonah, they killed her.”

He held Cadence while she sobbed out her misery, reliving the pain of her mother’s death. Jonah understood her pain. Even though he hadn’t always gotten along with Robert, he was his brother and Jonah had loved him. Robert was gone, but Jonah would carry his memory with him always, just as Cadence would for her mother.

She stayed like that for a while until she finally quieted, the silence broken by an occasional sniffle. Finally, she stirred, her hand brushing against his wounded shoulder. He hissed in pain. She brought her head up and looked at her palm. It was covered in blood.

She catapulted into motion. Jonah watched with amusement as she moved with purpose about the room, searching for something. “Honestly, I’m fine. It’s just a scratch. It’ll heal.” He’d suffered injuries much worse than this one. Usually, it had simply been a matter of a few stitches administered by a man who was better suited to shoeing horses than the fine art of needlepoint, who’d then slap on a quick field dressing and send Jonah on his way. The whiskey had helped too.

“It may need stitches,” she said distractedly.

Her movements brisk, she retrieved a basket filled with spools of thread in every color of the rainbow. She set it down on the table near the bed, pouring water from a pitcher into a bowl. Turning toward him, she pointed her finger in his direction. “You.” Her finger shifted to the bed. “Sit.”

Jonah immediately obeyed, no longer amused, but bemused by the obvious concern breaking through her commanding tone. It had been such a long time since anyone had bothered to care about his welfare, at least not since he was a child. He’d forgotten what that was like.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

She left the room, her footsteps echoing in the hallway, along with the thumps of a door being opened and closed. When she returned, her arms were laden with a stack of neatly folded cloths. She took one of the cloths, dipped it in the water and gently blotted the area of his shirt where the blood had dried, sticking to his wound. She then reached into the sewing box for a pair of dainty scissors and began to painstakingly cut the material away. He hissed air in through his teeth as she worked.

She visibly winced. “I’m sorry, honey, but I have to get this off before I can clean the wound.”

Her endearment, combined with the tenderness of her touch made Jonah’s heart flip over in his chest. He didn’t care about the pain. All he cared about was that she was alive, she was near him, and she was his. He smiled at her. “It’s all right. With a woman as beautiful as you doctoring me, I’ve got no complaints.”

“Hmmm.” He saw her lips quirk up in a smile as she continued with her task.

He was finally able to remove his shirt, and she proceeded to flush out the dirt and grit that had been worked into the wound during his fight with Colby. When she searched her basket for the right colored thread, he couldn’t help asking, “You’re not going to stitch me up with the pink are you?”

As she leaned over him, he turned his head toward her, inhaling her scent. She smelled clean and fresh and wild, like rain-kissed leaves after a thunderstorm. He forced himself not to flinch as the needle went through his flesh. She was gentle, but it hurt just the same. He needed a distraction. “Is that my gift, the ability to travel from one place to another in an instant?”

She continued to work as she spoke. “We all have some kind of gift, some more powerful than others. The one you have is rare. I only know of one other relative who had that ability.”

“I have no complaints. It saved your life.”

“Don’t forget it saved yours as well. Except for this little—” Her tone turned sarcastic as she emphasized the next word. “—
scratch
I’m sewing up at the moment.”

“It
is
just a scratch. It could have been worse.”

She looked up at him, her eyes liquid with concern. “I know,” she whispered. “And I’m glad it wasn’t worse.” She gave him a shaky smile and went back to her task.

When she was finished, she used a long strip of cloth that covered his shoulder, wrapping it across his chest, then around his back. Once it was secured, she stood up straight, assessing her handiwork. Before she had a chance to move away, Jonah snaked his arm around her waist, pulling her against his chest. “Not so fast,” he said huskily. “I need to thank you properly.”

“Oh!”

He kissed her and she melted in his arms, settling in his lap. He groaned, growing hard from the pressure of her hip against the juncture between his thighs. His tongue slipped inside, dancing with hers, his heart pounding madly with the need to bury himself inside her and stay there forever.

She pulled away, her hands resting on his shoulders. “Jonah.” They were both panting. “We have to tell the others what happened.”

He groaned his disappointment. “You’re right. They need to know about the
Fraternitatis Lucis.
”

She stood, leaving him feeling bereft from the loss of contact. “Yes, and they also need to know about my mother.”

Sighing, he asked, “Can your father spare another change of clothes? I’m afraid these are ruined.”

After Cadence returned with a fresh set of clothes for Jonah, they’d gone downstairs, gathered everyone together, and told them everything that had happened.

Jaelene had remained quiet, obviously disturbed by the news. Mrs. Clemens and Mrs. Riley both expressed their anger in a spout of rather colorful language that described exactly what should be done about those who belonged to the
Fraternitatis Lucis.
Kara was ready to strap on her battle armor and march off to war.

Her father’s face had paled, his hand reaching out and latching onto Mrs. Riley’s in his need for comfort. Mrs. Riley had looked at him with such tenderness and affection, that Cadence no longer had any doubts as to their feelings for each other.

By the time everyone had calmed down, and Cadence had convinced Kara to hold off on her quest for vengeance, Jonah had disappeared with her father. Her heart fluttered. They were probably discussing Jonah’s proposal of marriage. There was no reason to believe her father would refuse, but she still felt a little giddy over the fact that Jonah was formerly asking for her hand. It was such a romantic gesture.

Jaelene’s hand on her arm brought Cadence out of her thoughts. She took Cadence aside, keeping her voice low, so no one else could hear. “I don’t know why I never had a vision about this
Fraternitatis Lucis.
” Her delicate brow furrowed. “Why didn’t I know what happened to mother?”

They spoke quietly, their heads bent together. “I don’t know,” Cadence said. “There are some things you just don’t see, you know that.”

“Of course, I do know that. But it would have helped us to be more prepared. If only—”

“Don’t.” Cadence gave Jaelene’s arm a gentle squeeze. “It’s not your fault. It should not have come as a surprise that there was someone out there who knew about us. And it should be even less of a surprise that they mean us harm.” She smiled wryly. “People are generally frightened of what they don’t understand.”

Jaelene smiled that kind of smile that always indicated she would not divulge her knowledge no matter how much you badgered her. “It is not for me to say.” Those words were familiar as well, spoken many times before.

“SO, YOU WANT to marry my daughter.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jonah sat in a comfortable, well-worn chair, the leather made butter-soft from years of use. Charles LaPort occupied its twin, facing Jonah, his blank gaze targeting a spot over Jonah’s right shoulder. “Well, you’ve certainly proven yourself worthy after saving Cadence the way you did.” He chuckled. “Hell, from what I hear, you’ve done that several times already.”

“Your daughter seems to have an uncanny ability to find trouble.”

Charles laughed outright. “That she does. That she does. Don’t know where she gets it from, though. Her mother was so serene and gentle. Jaelene takes after her in that way. But Cadence is pert near a spittin’ image of Syrianna.” His features relaxed, softened, his eyes taking on a look of sadness for a moment before it was quickly gone. He took a deep breath.