Page 227 of Golden Eagle

He took a few breaths, composed himself, and looked miserable in a different way. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Okay, I’m gonna stop you there, becausenothinggood happens when somebody says that.”

“Lanny, I’m serious,” he said, and his tone took the last of Lanny’s joking mood.

He nodded. “Alright.”

“I’ve been thinking about all that’s going on. All of this.” He gestured to the sparring matches happening in front of them. “I’m not sure – I don’t think I have a place here. I’m just dead weight.”

Lanny hadn’t expected him to say that – but a moment later realized that he should have.You guys are all I have, Jamie had said days ago, somber, urging him to confess to Trina. Sometimes, in the midst of prisoner princes, and tsareviches who’d watched their families get gunned down, and lying playboys who’d been experimented upon, kids raised in laboratories…it was easy to forget that there were different kinds of trauma. Less remarkable, maybe, but no less real. No less painful.

He felt a tug in his chest that he refused to call panic, but which propelled him to say, “Whoa, hold up. Don’t say that. What? Of course you’re not.”

“Lanny,” Jamie sighed. “What in the world do I contribute to this pack?”

“Tons!”

“I don’t fight, I’m not that good at compelling, I have no helpful contacts. I was an art student before this, which is zero-percent useful right now, and, let’s face, fangs or not, I’m still pretty much scared of my own shadow.”

“Hey.”

“Name one useful thing I do.” His brows lifted, challenging.

“You got us the video in Virginia.”

“I put a flash drive into a computer.”

“Yeah, but we needed you to do that. That wasuseful, cause I was busy trying to keep fucking Dracula from eating Nikita’s lunch. So. That’s one. And this morning–”

“This morning I got thrown on the ground, and the best I did was trip a guy.”

“Which is a guy no one else had to throw hands with.”

Jamie pulled a disgusted face. “Oh, please. Face it: I’m just collateral damage. I’m this loser who sleeps on everyone’s couches because you all feel guilty about what happened to me, and turning me away would weigh too heavy on your consciences.”

Lanny reeled back, feeling like he’d been slapped. “Wow. How long’ve you had that one in the holster?”

Jamie’s face colored again, this time with shame, and he ducked his head. “I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

Lanny processed for a minute, really thought about that accusation.

He and Trina had been the detectives on the scene the night Chad Edwards drained and turned Jamie. How could anyone have looked at his slight, still body and felt anything but sadness and guilt? When he’d awakened, immortal and terrified, they’d explained things to him. Lanny had let him stay at his place those first few nights, until he got his bearings.

But Jamie had stayed. Had chosen to stay.

“No,” he said. “No, that’s bullshit. It sucks that you got turned, and that your old roommate thinks you’re dead, and you had to quit school. Yeah, I get that.

“But nobody’s ever told you that you don’t belong here. Nobody’s ever said you’redead weight.”

Jamie started to protest.

“No, shut up. If you felt like you weren’t part of the pack, why did you come with us to Buffalo? To Virginia? You walked into that mansion with us all on your own, people shooting at us and everything. When we’re hanging out, having a drink, talking about all this crazy shit, you’re right there. So what gives now? You getting cold feet?”

“I…”

“I think you got spooked. I think you’re freaking out, and you want me to give you an excuse to run.”

Jamie’s gaze lifted, hurt and guilt flickering across his features.

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