Page 44 of Fifth
“Ten tomorrow morning.”
“Ten,” she said. “I love you.”
Unable to sit still after the emotional conversation, she and Locus dressed and left the room. The corridor outside overflowed with quiet, lights set to mimic a late hour. She clung to his hand. He moved beside her like a wall that breathed. Apair of warriors passed and nodded. Amedic rolled a cart and didn’t lookup.
Sixth turned a corner with two officers. He saw Hannah first. It was obvious in the way his attention settled on her face and not on Locus’s shoulders. He lifted a hand and the others fell back a step. He stopped at a respectful distance and spoke to Hannah as if she were the only one there.
“Was it your choice?”
“Yes,” she said, clear.
He gave a single nod that read as approval. “Good.” He turned his head the slightest degree toward Locus. “Debrief at third hour.” Then he walked on with his officers, leaving silence in his wake and the clean relief of not having to defend what washers.
Back in their room Hannah stood at the door and let her back press to it as it sealed. She laughed a little under her breath and then crossed to the bed. She climbed in and Locus gathered her without words. She tucked her forehead under his chin and let her body soften into sleep, hearing again what he had breathed against her shoulder the first time they made love: “You are safe with me from now on.”
The vow settled over her like a warm blanket, the vow one she’d finally begun to believe. She tucked herself beneath it, fingers linked withhis.
Sleep found her holding one small, certain thought. Tomorrow, she would take him to her parent’s house and then they’d begin the rest of their lives together. Lives filled with a bright, danger-free future.
Chapter 13
“LET MEknock.” Hannah’s voice was steady until the last word. Then it thinned, hope and fear rubbing itraw.
Locus placed his palm against the doorframe and let his weight settle into the wood. The grain vibrated faintly beneath his skin, the house itself alive with tiny sounds. Pipes ticked. Floorboards creaked from old nails settling. Somewhere inside, awoman tried not to cry and failed. The air smelled like coffee and lemon cleaner and a memory he didn’town.
“Stand behind me,” he said, quiet but absolute. “If there is danger, you will not be seen first.”
“I want them to see me first.”
“I know. Let me see for you.”
He didn’t knock. He pressed his fingertips into the thin seam between door and jamb and felt the simple deadbolt, the human iron bar. The restraint in him reached for violence and stopped because she wanted this to begin with grace. He let his hand fall.He breathed slow and even, building a wall inside his chest to keep the roaraway.
Her fingers slid into his, small and damp with nerves. The touch ran electricity through him. She’d touched him plenty now, skin to skin, mouth to mouth, bruising need in dark showers and in the clean sheets of a room that didn’t belong to them. This was different. Her hand trembled.A warrior learned to note every tremor in the body he guarded. He knew the shaking wouldn’tlast.
For a fleeting second she glanced at his human guise, the softened features and dulled angles, and whispered, “You look strange like this—too much like someone else’s face wearing you.”
The words landed sharp. He disliked the disguise already, but hearing her say it only confirmed that the mask was wrong. Still, her honesty steadied him. He held himself still, taking her words not as a wound but as a reminder that she saw him clearly through the false mask he would soonshed.
The deadbolt rasped. The door opened a hand’s width. Awoman’s face filled the gap. Pale from weeks of fear and sleeplessness. Eyes red and swollen, lashes clumped. She saw Hannah, gave a choked sound, and tore the door open like muscle could tear grief.
“Hannah.” Her mother stumbled across the threshold, palms open. She didn’t look at Locus at all. She pressed her hands to her daughter’s cheeks as if checking a fever, as if Hannah might burn away in front of her if she didn’t hold tight. Then she seized her and clutched her hard enough to bruise.
Locus let the woman have his mate. He didn’t own Hannah. What he held was purpose, carved so deep into him it might havebeen bone. He took one step inside because he’d already decided a thousand steps he would take for her without asking.
A man stood back from the embrace, jaw shaved too close, mouth cut into a line to keep it steady. He had the same blue-gray eyes as Hannah when she stared down the world, only set deeper. When he saw Locus his spine went rigid. The man didn’t flinch. He didn’t hide his instinct to shield his own. He weighed the threat in Locus the way a good soldier would weigh an edged blade.
“Sir,” Locus said. He kept his frame restrained. Hands visible. Shoulders loose. He let the father see the way he positioned his body between the door and the female. The measuring in the man’s eyes shifted, just slightly.
“Come in,” the father said, gruff. The words were filled with something like gratitude, but the emotion held back until proof came. “Both of you. Come in.”
Hannah turned her head and pressed a fast kiss to Locus’s shoulder as she passed him. It landed like a brand. The small scrape of her teeth against his skin caused his control to tighten. He dug his fingers into the frame, then advanced deeper into the room ahead of her, keeping his body angled to shield her as they entered.
The house was small and neat, alife compressed into framed photos and clean edges, every surface wiped of dust like prayer. Ahallway opened into a living room that had been tidied too hard. Apile of mail sat squared at the edges on a side table. Aflowered throw had been folded again and again until the corners lined up like amap.
Hannah’s father set his hand on the back of a chair and didn’t sit. He stared at Locus as he reached for his wife’s shoulder and steadied her without looking. “You’re the one whohad her. You kept her alive. I’m not sure what kind of thanks I owe for that. Iguess we’ll start with the word.”
“You owe me nothing,” Locus said. “You owe me only the sight of her breathing.”
