“But it’s not the same, now, is it?” Flint raises a brow. “You act like you gave everything you had to that fight, but we all know that’s not true. Why don’t you ask yourself: If it had been Grace about to die, would we be having this conversation at all, or would Luca still be alive?”
Hudson’s jaw clenches. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” And with that, Flint uses the edge of the bed to hop over to a pair of crutches in the corner. He shoves them under his arms and shuffles out without another word.
Hudson doesn’t say anything. No one does.
My chest squeezes tight at the choices he has to make, the expectations placed on his shoulders. Expectations too heavy for anyone to carry. And yet he does. Always.
But that doesn’t mean he has to do it alone.
I pull him back into my arms and lay my head against his chest, close my eyes, and listen to his steady heartbeat until his shoulders start to relax, until his lips brush a faint kiss against my hair. Only then do I sigh. He’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.
But when I open my eyes, my gaze lands on our friends, and my breath catches.
Regret. Anger. Accusation. It’s all there—and directed at Hudson and me.
It’s then that I recognize Cyrus’s real victory today.
We’re divided.
Which is just another way of saying we are completely screwed. Again.
2
Standoff and Deliver
With those dark emotions flashing over their expressions, the Order shifts so that they’re all standing at Jaxon’s back as he faces off against Hudson. My stomach does a quick, unpleasant flip. This is shaping up to have all the makings of an Old West showdown, and I have no interest in getting caught in the crossfire. Or watching anyone else get caught, either.
Which is why I step into the empty space between Jaxon and my mate. Hudson makes a displeased sound low in his throat, but he doesn’t try to stop me. I consider defending Hudson’s choices on the battlefield, but in the end, I figure what we need to do first is focus on Luca. The minutes are counting down until he turns to dust.
I promise myself we will have this conversation about what everyone expects Hudson to do in a fight, but not today. We have enough issues as it is.
“Look, Jaxon, I get it.” I hold a placating hand out to the boy who once meant everything to me. “This sucks. It really sucks. But you have to see how risky it is to invite Luca’s parents here.”
“Risky?” He shoots me a disbelieving look as he holds his arms out in a very similar gesture to what Hudson just did. Apparently, blood really does tell. “What else do you think they can do to this place? In case you haven’t noticed, it’s gutted.”
“Not to mention the fact that if they want to attack us, they don’t have to wait for an engraved invitation,” Byron chimes in. “We’re not exactly fortified right now.”
“Yeah, but they don’t know that we’re here,” Eden says as she walks forward to stand beside Hudson. “For all they know, we showed up, saw this destruction, and took off for parts unknown. Which, I have to admit, feels a little bit like what we should be doing.”
“I can notify Luca’s parents.” Marise sits up in the hospital bed, and though she is still pale, her wounds are finally starting to heal. “While you guys go somewhere safer, somewhere off campus.”
“We’re not leaving you, Marise.” Macy sounds firm as she walks over to Marise’s side near the Order. “If we leave, you’re coming with us.”
“I’m not strong enough for that just yet,” the vampire healer tells her.
“Which means we’re not going anywhere until you are,” Macy replies. “Besides, they left you for dead, so they obviously know you’re on our side. They’re just as likely to come after you when they know you’re alive as they are to come after us.”
“They won’t hurt me,” Marise says, but even she doesn’t sound convinced.
“We’re not leaving you,” I reiterate and cross to the fridge and get another bottle of blood for her. She takes it, drinking a healthy amount before she sets it on the table beside her bed.
“Luca’s parents have the right to know,” Jaxon says again, but the latent aggression drains from his stance a little more with each word. “Whether they’re traitors or not, they deserve the chance to bury their child. Whatever comes from inviting them here, whatever problems it causes, we’ll deal with it. Because denying them that…” He closes his eyes, shakes his head. “Denying them that—”
“Makes us no better than Cyrus,” Hudson finishes, sounding as resigned as Jaxon looks.
“Some things are worth the risk,” Mekhi says. “Doing what’s right is one of them.”
Eden bites her lip, and it looks like she’s going to argue, but in the end, she just shoves a frustrated hand through her hair and nods.
Jaxon waits to see if anyone else wants to chime in, glancing from one of us to the other. Thankfully, Hudson’s acquiescence seems to have convinced everyone. When no one says anything, Jaxon turns to Marise. “I’ll make the call.”
Then Jaxon takes out his phone and fades across the room to the door and the hallway beyond.
“Now what?” Macy asks in a voice that sounds as shaky as I feel.
“Now we wait,” Hudson answers, his eyes on the door Jaxon just disappeared through. “And hope we’re not making a huge mistake.”
3
One Hell of a
Bloodside Manner
Twenty minutes later, Flint is back on his hospital bed and pissy as hell as Marise prepares to start his wound care as the specialist instructed.
“Wait right here,” she tells him. “I need to get more bandages.”
“And here I thought I was going to climb Denali,” he answers in a strained attempt at irony. She just shakes her head as she walks haltingly to a cabinet in the far corner of the infirmary—a sure sign that she’s still not feeling nearly as good as she’d like us to believe.
Jaxon and the Order left to deal with Luca, and she’d insisted I bring Flint back so she could check on his leg. I figured Hudson would leave, too, once Flint shot him a death glare as soon as he reentered the infirmary. But to his credit, Hudson stayed. Of course, he’s currently leaning against a wall and pretending to scroll through his phone, but he is here, being as supportive as Flint will let him.