For the Clan Page 11

  Jace caught their annoyed expressions. "About what?"

  "A few things," Baret answered, stepping up to Jace, "but it all comes down to the same thing."

  "Right, so beating around the bush is stupid," Hart interjected, pushing Baret back. "Let's get to our biggest problem, because guess who bumped up their activity and looks interested in coming round? The governtary wants to be neighbours."

  "Hart, I already know this." Jace held up his hands. "You all told me. Dix and Gin told me. And here's a newsflash: I figured some things out on my own. Tell me something new."

  Seth grunted and scratched at his goatee. "More rogue militants. They're stocking up. They're getting shipments. They're waving guns in front of other clans. And guess whose name they're dropping? The gov. They're interested in starting another damn war. They'll take the rest of us with them."

  "Not before the governtary sneaks in and does their business." Alim tapped the table with his knuckles. "Jets flew over last night, coming in randomly like they have for the last few weeks. We don't know where they're going. We don't know where they're setting up camp. Inheritant and Fealty said soldiers were creeping up their backwoods."

  Baret cleared his throat. "If it isn't the gov's soldiers, it's the rogues. The other clans are about as trusting about it as we are."

  "I know." Jace sighed. "Ginny's putting them on Trespass Law. Get seen, get shot. She's not taking any chances."

  "We shouldn't, either." Alim stood. "We need to get our crap together, Jace. Things aren't right. Rumours say people are getting into trouble. That they're not coming back home. Remember who we're dealing with. Remember the MOs we've seen. First people go missing. Then they just start dying." He pointed to the side of the tent. "Your wife knows what happens when no one's paying attention enough. I'll be damned if we choke out on our own blood. I've given the governtary enough of my life."

  Baret gripped Jace's shoulder. "Wouldn't put it past the governtary to set up the rogue thing just to reel us in and catch us in a trap."

  "It's no secret the rogues were soldiers," Seth added. "Where do their allegiances lie? For all we know, they aren't done with the military. They could still be on payroll. They could be faking it. They could be—"

  "Baiting us," Jace finished. It wasn't the first time he'd considered it. The clans took pains to get to know one another, even when they were deep in disagreement. But the rogue militia befriended no one. They showed up whenever they pleased in whatever area they chose without warning or introduction. Several had encountered the clans and brief dialogues ensued, but outside of that… nothing.

  And yet, reports said the rogues carried military issue weapons no one else could obtain, among other things.

  "We need to get ourselves together," Baret said. "See what other gear we can get. Nip them if they're coming to nip us."

  Seth shook his head. "Because if they're going to war with each other—if this isn't a trap—then we'll still be dragged in. The gov'll take any excuse to put us in our place and remind us why they call us the Disenfranchised. They'll handle the rogues then bust us because hey, they're here, might as well make a party out of it."

  "Not to mention they might be led out this way," Alim said softly. "Boundaries and territories are the least of their concern. They'll claim national defense and domestic terrorism and invade our homes. They'll go where they have to go, and then pretend they're sorry before telling us to shape up or ship out." Contempt twisted his face and voice. "Afterwards, they'll hold some press conference. Tell the rest of the country we were going to kill, or maim, or otherwise attack the nation so no one will care what they did. And they'll get more money to keep doing the same thing under the guise of national security."

  "It wouldn't be the first time," Baret reminded them. "People are still scared to go up north."

  "And I don't feel like leaving," Seth said. "We're all pretty happy here."

  If he didn't know better, Jace would've expected they meant to fight. "So what are you saying? That we pull everything together and fight? We actually take that stand? Because you know it'll hurt. We'll most likely lose." Jace almost laughed. Hadn't they already had this conversation? "Besides, I thought you weren't interested. The last time I brought it up, Hart wanted to run. The rest of you agreed. Something about a good theory, Baret."

  "Yeah, but if they come around waving guns and dropping bombs, we lose anyway." Baret shrugged. "So maybe it's time we stop running. Maybe it's time we bite back." He pointed at Jace. "You're on good terms with the other clans, right? You said Fealty's putting on Trespass Law. Let's join them. Get ourselves a united front, just in case."

  Seth raised his hands. "We don't know where they are; what they're doing. We don't want to find out last minute they're coming to settle more than just rogues."

  "The governtary wants the land back," Alim reminded Jace. "When they told people in the metros to put up or shut up and leave, they didn't mean it. You know that. Our forefathers knew that. But our families said screw it: better to be cave men than let officials and corporations lie, steal, and rape our rights away. So we'll butt heads with the governtary until someone dies off. They want it to be us. We need to show them we're not easy to get rid of. They keep their metropolises, defendable air spaces, and safe little alliances with the States; we keep the land no one else wants."

  Jace leaned against the table, arms folded. It was risky talk, even riskier action. They'd have to clear it with the rest of Teach first then enter into several discussions with the other clans. They'd need treaties, provisions, increased trade. There'd be a price to pay—one that could be too high and not worth the result.

  Still, it was another option. He wanted to stop fleeing in fear. And now that Roan's here, we've got some extra help… assuming I finally talk to him about it. He ran from being a solider. How can we ask him to go back to it?

  "Let's run it by the rest of the clan—majority rules. In the meantime, suppose I'll make a suggestion to Dix and Gin." Jace snorted. "Nice timing, guys. Did you wait all this time just for that?" He took a step towards the entrance.

  "We're not done," Hart said, pushing Jace back.

  Jace leaned against the table. "What? There's more?"

  "Yeah, and it's crap, too." Hart's face reddened as he spoke. "Look, we've noticed, okay? You and Roan are getting awfully close. I realize he's your special little bed bunny, and I'm sure he's really puttin' out, but open your eyes. It's dangerous. You're endangering the entire clan, and for what? So he can scratch some itch your wife isn't?"

  Fists clenched around the edge of the wood table, Jace fought the urge to punch Hart in the throat. "You're out of line. It's none of your business."

  "No, it is," Alim replied, standing closer to Jace. "The governtary came and went after that one fight. He stuck around. Then they came back. Don't you find it a little whack they just left without finding him? Don't you think they'd kind of want one of their pets back? He's military. They've stamped themselves all over him. He's as silent as I'd expect from them." With the slight tilt of his head, Alim's gaze flared with judgment and disbelief. "And I find it incredibly interesting how you're not questioning him like you should be. If he was anyone else, you'd be all over it. Or letting us handle it. What the hell is wrong with you?"

  Jace opened his mouth to argue, but Baret interrupted him.

  "You said he used to be part of the clan. Used to," Baret said. "There's a whole lot of years in between. You don't know what they did to him. What they're making him do. For all we know, he was sent to spy on us. He could be giving them information as they set up camp. You're blind, kid. You need to see the caution through the trees. You have to—"

  "He needs to go." Hart jabbed Jace's chest. "Toss him before the governtary knocks on our very nonexistent door. They'll want him back, especially if this rogue crap is real. I don't believe for a second they aren't missing what he can do. Those men who got fried? Who do think did the frying? He's a killer, Jace. That's what he's trained for.
"

  "And he's angry," Seth added. "He's totally unpredictable. We're just waiting for him to go apeshit. He's going to lose his freaking mind then we'll pay for it."

  Jace's face warmed. If he could've fought them all on his own, he would've. He didn't believe them, not for a moment. They didn't know Roan. They had never known him, each of them having entered the clan after Roan had been taken. While their concerns were valid, they wouldn't turn him against his heart. Jace already knew about the men Roan had killed—Roan had told him how the situation had happened and how guilty he felt. As far as Jace was concerned, Roan had done nothing more than caged tigers would have. It had been a matter of instinct; of survival. No one knew how much Roan needed to find peace—how much he wasn't a spy, and how much he couldn't be. Anyone who accused him was afraid, confusing ignorance with just cause to punish an innocent man.

  Funny. They sound just like the governtary.

  "Fuck you and the bullshit you rode in on." Jace buried his fists in the crooks of his elbows. His fingers ached from how tight they curled. Twinges of pain raced up his wrist. "You're just looking for a reason to kick his ass out. So he doesn't hold hands and kiss babies and make friends. It doesn't make him a freaking spy."

  "Don't you get it? We're harbouring." Hart smacked his hands together. "The governtary hates us enough without us kissing refugee ass. It's one of the reasons why they hate clans. You know they're terrified we'll hide Vens and use them. They'll take him and whatever else they damn well please."

  "Assuming they don't tell him to blow us sky high before then," Baret mumbled.

  Seth put both hands up. "Don't you find it the least bit curious we caught him? Or that it was so easy to drag him here? It's suspicious. It's a warning sign. He's up to something. If the rogues could be bait to reel us in, why couldn't he? If you won't ask those questions, at least ask this: why does he carry guns?"

  "Right, because I couldn't just waste you all right here with the flick of my wrist," Roan's voice answered.

  One tent flap opened. The light blinded Jace. When he finally saw Roan's face, Jace started forward. "Roan—"

  "No, let them run their theories," Roan said. "Go on. I'm a spy, doing spy things. So let's hear it."

  Hart stepped forward. "You don't belong here. Pack your trash and leave."

  "Cute. You actually think you can do that." Roan smirked. "But let's talk about why I have weapons instead of just hanging your sorry asses out to dry." He grabbed a rifle from a chest along the wall and yanked out the magazine. "See these? The bullets hurt like hell. So guess what: bullets with a touch of magic? They're not even hell. They won't just maybe kill you in a shot. They'll blow your tiny little mind to bits and every other part of you. Once it goes in, you come out dead. And if you're extra lucky, you'll get one that makes you burn, every nerve melting away while you're conscious. It kills soldiers real nice."

  Roan reattached the magazine and returned the gun to the chest. "And, oh yeah, I can make any weapon hurt a hundred times more than it usually does, and that much more lethal." His voice grew louder as he waved a finger at them. "But sure, go on, just piss all over the freak. Make him into an enemy. Throw him out. Bash his head in. Make it abundantly clear that he's a piece of shit who doesn't deserve to exist. Then you can go fuck yourselves."

  Before anyone could retort, Roan walked away.

  "Roan!" Jace rushed from the tent.

  Cayra caught Jace's arm, jerking him to a stop. "Wait. Don't." Behind her, Dixon and Gin watched from several feet away, pointing at Jace.

  Jace struggled to escape Cayra. Roan disappeared around a tent and out of his sight. "Cay, I have to—"

  "Shh, I know." Cayra pulled him into her. "Don't. You're pissed. He's pissed. You'll get nothing but a shouting match. It won't make either of you feel better. Let me talk to him." She gripped his shoulders. "We've been getting to know each other better. I think I can calm him down. You can talk to him later once you've calmed down." Peering around him into the tent, she scowled. "Without killing the rest of them, of course."

  "But he—"

  "Is being devoured by the wolves. I know. I told you it wasn't going to be easy." Cayra grasped his chin, keeping his face close to hers. "I'll go. I have to tell him I want to talk to him, anyway. I'm serious. We need to talk, all of us, tonight. This doesn't change that."

  Jace stopped struggling. The cold feeling washed over him again, tempering the heat of his anger. He felt sick, fighting to stand. Suddenly it all made sense.

  The sentries wanted him to get rid of Roan. With Cayra's help, they could soon get their wish.

  08

  In fifteen years, Jace hadn't held Roan's hand as tightly as he did now. The last time, they were torn apart, two halves left yearning to be whole.

  This time wouldn't hurt any less.

  "You're sure this is what she wants to talk about?" Roan whispered, fidgeting on the end of the bed.

  "Didn't she give you the same shut-up-I'm-too-serious-to-put-up-with-no look?" Jace leaned his forehead on Roan's shoulder. "I tell you, it's what she's going to say. This is a lose-lose for us. First it'll be this. Then you'll be thrown out when I'm not there to stop it. After the day we've had, I'd say that's it. We're screwed."

  "Maybe you're wrong. Maybe—"

  "Maybe you're thinking the exact same thing as me and trying to be the optimist," Jace murmured. "Sounds more like we've switched things around. I'm paranoid and you want to believe in something more. Did I rub off on you?"

  "There are way too many answers to that."

  "Give me just one."

  Roan's answer came in a kiss, gently overtaking Jace's mouth. They sank further into the mattress.

  By the time he realized Cayra stood in the tent, Jace struggled to catch his breath.

  "And that's why we need to talk," she said, a small smile teasing her lips.

  Jace jumped up. "Cay, I'm sorry. We'll stop. See? No touching." He held up his hands.

  "It's fine."

  "No, it's not." Jace stepped towards her, watching her hands. There was a good chance he'd say something deserving of a slap. It wouldn't be the first time. "I know you've caught us. I know it makes you uncomfortable. And I'm sorry. I didn't want to throw it in your face or anything. We're just limited in where we can be. I know it doesn't make you happy. I get it. Please, just—"

  Cayra held up her hand. "Jace, honey, why do think I'm here?"

  "You said you wanted to talk. You were adamant about it. You had that look you always get when I'm about to be busted for something."

  "No, I know that. Maybe I should be clearer: what do you think I'm here to talk about?" Cayra's brows pulled together. "I'm just trying to understand why you're freaking out."

  "Me freaking out? Damn it, Cay, I'm apologizing for betraying you! I know you said it'd be okay, but clearly it's not, so I can't be okay with it, either. You're damn right we have to talk. Let's settle it, right here, right now. Just say what's on your mind."

  Cayra stared at Jace as though he spoke gibberish. Her glance flicked to Roan as he stood. "It's not what you think."

  "What?" Jace grabbed her hands. "Honey, just tell us. We're ready to hear we're done. Well, not ready, just less inclined to be surprised."

  "But I am. This wasn't… that isn't… I'm not here to—" Cayra sighed. "God, Jace, you're making this more difficult. I had it all planned out, every last word. And now you're—" She gestured to Jace before motioning to Roan. "And he's—and you're both—" Cayra backed away. "Maybe this isn't a good time. I need to rethink everything. I'll just—"

  Jace grasped her wrist. "Cay, wait. Don't leave. I'll shut up, promise."

  "Don't shut up. Just listen." Cayra peered over Jace's shoulder to Roan. "And I'm not here to break you up. I said I was okay with you being together. That hasn't changed."

  "Then what's this about?" Jace murmured.

  "The complete opposite. Yeah, okay, maybe I seemed uncomfortable. Yes, it's affected me. Yes, it throws me o
ff seeing you all hot and bothered with each other, but it's not why you think." She sucked in a breath. "I just keep thinking about how much I'd like if we could sort of, kind of, maybe, just once be together, the three of us." Cayra raised her hands before her and took a step back. "Just once, that's all."

  The words knocked the breath from Jace. This was what he'd worried about for days? This was her serious, take-no-crap conversation?

  So… she was watching.

  Behind him, Jace heard Roan inhale.

  Jace said nothing. He couldn't agree without Roan having a say first. It wasn't fair, especially not after what Roan had gone through. Did he even like women? Roan hated the breeding program—rightfully so—but did he find any woman attractive? They'd never discussed it.

  His heart fumbling in its rhythm, Jace looked at Cayra. Her wringing fingers emphasized how nervous she really was, her gaze alternating between Jace's and Roan's. Jace had seen her like this whenever she was brutally honest, saying things she believed she shouldn't. She couldn't have stunned him any more than if she'd told him she was pregnant.

  "Cay…" Jace started.

  "I know," she said softly. "It's a lot to ask. I just wanted to get it off my chest. I can't tell anyone else. They wouldn't understand."

  Hesitant, Cayra moved towards Roan. She reached for him before pulling back and gripping her skirt. "I want to know what it's like to be with you. He seeks you out. He wants your touch. Just once, I'd like to know what it feels like for him. I want to feel you like he does." Cayra turned as Jace neared her. "I thought I was joking earlier, the first time I caught you. I made some stupid joke about wanting to join. Except it wasn't a joke, I realize that now. My subconscious was being serious and the rest of me hadn't caught up. Just took me time to get around to it."

  "Cay," Jace started, "you don't have to explain."

  "No, I want to. It's taken me days to figure out why every time I see you touch each other—why, when it's just the simplest hand on your waist—I'm curious. Why the looks you give each other make me weak in the knees." Cayra faced Roan. "There's something about you two. Like raw electricity, untamed, turned up high or really intense static with a hell of a shock. I want to know what it's like to be caught up in the middle of all of that."