Page 231 of Entangled

“That is repulsive,” I gasp. “What on earthisthat?”

Heather looks at the bottle and shrugs. “Port? The creepy vampire didn’t put it out with the rest of the bottles, so I figured it was probably good.”

I shake my head. “Not good. Bad.Awful.”

“Like me,” Heather adds.

My cheeks heat. “I just think you should be nicer to people. These things have a way of coming back around.” I slide her a sideways look. “And youdidjust call Jasper a creepy vampire. Jasper is lovely.”

“Of courseyouthink that. You should see the things he writes in his book about you.” Her shoulders shake with her shudder. “Definitely creepy.”

“Book?” I ask, but Heather waves me off.

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve been an ass. Dom chewed me out for it the other day too. I’ll try to go easier on the guys.” She gives me a half-smile. “I don’t know how you do it, honestly—you have the patience of a saint. I’ve never been like that. I wish I was.”

Heather wishes she was like... me?

I blink in surprise. “Because you take action. You’re brave. You pulled me back together in that camp. You were the one to stay and fight. I wish I was more likeyou.”

Heather’s already shaking her head. I realize she’s staring at the apple tree, at the candles hanging like fruit from its dead boughs.

She scoffs bitterly. “What the hell did it get me? I led my people into danger, I got Tommy killed, got a dozen of us imprisoned, I almost got all ofyoukilled, and I spent three months in that camp without anything changing. You kept your head. You got them to trust you, andyougot us out.”

Oh no, I’m too drunk for this.

I throw my arms around her and squeeze. It was one of the first things I saw in Madison—her rage, her grief... her shame. Like recognizes like. For all that we have almost nothing else in common, we share that.

Blood and pain and beatings in the mud.

“We did it together,” I whisper into her hair. In this moment, just this one, I even believe it. Maybe she couldn’t have escaped without me and my poison plan, and I couldn’t have escaped without her and her people fighting for me.

Heather hugs me too. I feel her chest hitch against mine, hear the catch in her breath, and I rub her back.

Neither one of us escaped the Sinners without scars—but I was lucky. I got my men back. I get a second chance, and I’m finally feeling strong enough to make use of it.

Heather will never get Thomas back, and the civilians that the Sinners captured may never be freed.

I wonder where she gets her strength from.

“Eden, a full moon is approaching. I do hope you’re being cautious,” Jasper calls in a lazy, elegant voice over the music.

Heather pulls out of my arms and gives him a bored look. Before she can say anything, I point at Jasper.

“You be nice. We’reallgoing to be nice.” I raise a chastising brow and look between him, Lucky, and Heather. “We have enemies enough outside Bristlebrook without having them in here too.”

Lucky grins roguishly. “Deal. But only if you scold me like that again.”

His smile is too impossibly sweet to resist. I poke out my tongue at him, and his eyes drop to it, his smile slipping.

Jasper and Heather stand across from one another, like it’s a Western and they’re preparing to duel.

Finally, Heather huffs. “What do you think? Can werebitches and vamp-daddies be friends?”

Jasper’s dark hair stirs in the breeze, and he looks her over speculatively. “Perhaps we can call a truce.” He lowers his chin, and his voice turns grim. “If you show respect to the things that belong to me.”

“People or possessions?” she shoots back. “Because if you’re talking about your kinky diary, then?—”

“Both,” he says curtly. Warningly.

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