Page 20 of Ruthless Ends

He lets out a surprised sigh, the tension easing from his shoulders.

“Cam said Saint and Jones are here too?” I ask as I finish and set his hand on his lap.

He nods, eyes closed as he pulls a deep breath through his nose, probably still coming down from the healing. It can make you pretty dizzy. “They went to get food.”

At least if they’re up and moving, they’re probably in better shape than Leif was.

I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and turn as the vampire in the bed across from Leif sits up, his nostrils flaring as he sniffs the air. The disgust on his face as he looks Leif up and down is obvious even beneath the layer of bandages around his head. I don’t recognize him, but he must be one of the Carrington estate refugees. When he catches me glaring at him, he doesn’t even have the decency to look away. If anything, his face contorts more.

Sawyer’s voice resurfaces in the back of my mind.

She’s Westcott’s daughter, for fuck’s sake.

We’re supposed to take her word that she’s not a spy for him?

Maybe she’s not the only person here thinking that way.

“Do you feel any better now?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice light as I turn to Leif.

“Much. Thank you.”

“No, thankyou. I don’t know what would have happened if you guys didn’t show up.”

“Nah, you would’ve flipped the script somehow. You’re like a cockroach. Nothing can take you out.” His smile turns crooked, but his usual ease is missing from his eyes. “I mean that as a compliment.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, debating if bringing it up would only make it worse. “How are you, really?” I ask softly. “With being here.”

I don’t have to elaborate because his smile fades and he gives me a small nod. Even if we’re not at the Carrington estate, the queen is here. I can’t imagine being under the same roof as the woman responsible for your parents’ execution and just being okay with it, let alone surrounded by other vampires who might hold the same views. The Auclair region is more accepting of weres, but there’s pretty much an equal ratio of Auclair to Carrington vampires in this estate right now.

Exhibit: the guy across from us who I’m pretty sure still hasn’t blinked.

“I’m fine,” he insists as footsteps sound behind me.

“Well hell, we should’ve brought more back.”

Saint has me crushed to his chest in a hug before I can register what’s happening, smelling like greasy French fries and onion rings.

“Don’t drop the tots!” cries Jones as he pulls a paper tray from Saint’s hand.

“Shh,” Leif hisses. “People are sleeping.”

“Right.” Saint ducks his head as he pulls back, his smile almost shy. “Still not used to the vamp schedule.”

“It’s good to see you guys,” I say, going in to hug Jones next, the heaviness that settled in my chest easing at their presence. To think in a matter of months I’ve become more comfortable aroundwerewolvesthan my own kind. Jones props his armful of appetizers on the foot of Leif’s bed, then hugs me so tightly I can barely breathe.

Neither of them looks much worse than they usually do—smeared with dirt and their hair looking like they just rolled out of bed, but no visible injuries comparable to Leif’s.

“Is it insensitive if we ask about the Russian fiancée?” Jones mumbles out of the side of his mouth.

Saint smacks his shoulder. “You’re such a gossip.”

“Like you don’t want to know!”

I smirk and situate myself on the end of Leif’s bed. Whatever strange fire that had been raging inside of me on the subject of Anya seems to have fizzled out. The mention of her now only elicits a slight pang in my stomach. “I’ll tell you, but I have two conditions.”

“Name your price,” says Saint.

“Can you use your gossiping powers for good and let me know if you hear anything about her? I just…something feels off. I don’t think she’s telling anyone the full story about why she’s here.”

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