Destined for an Early Grave (Page 25)

And at the same time, I wanted to cry. This was all so wrong. I was falling to pieces and doing it alone, despite the numerous people around me.

Something of this either showed on my face, or he heard it in the whirling chaos of my mind. Bones’s features lost their icy callousness, and he sighed.

"Kitten…"

"Don’t." My breath caught, choking back the sob. I couldn’t seem to control how I felt or what came out of my mouth, so it was better if I was alone. Fast, before I said something else I didn’t mean.

"I’m, uh, tired."

I walked up the stairs, leaving the whiskey behind on the couch. It hadn’t helped. In fact, all I’d done since I woke up was to make matters worse. I knew this situation wasn’t Bones’s fault. He was only doing this to keep everyone safe, including me. But somehow, I ended up taking out my frustration on him. At least unconscious, I couldn’t f**k things up between us more.

I shut the door behind me. There weren’t any glasses in the bedroom, so I cupped my palm and used the sink water to swallow Don’s pills. Their quantity was dwindling. I’d have to have him ship more to me – except I didn’t know where we were.

That falling sensation began shortly after, like the mattress opened up, and I was being sucked down into it. For a split second, I felt panic, reaching out for anything to hold onto. Yet just as requested, I was alone.

Later, when I felt cool flesh against my mouth, I was relieved. Then I finished swallowing and knew this wasn’t Bones, even with my eyes closed and just coming into wakefulness. The blood tasted different.

Spade blinked into view. He removed his hand, but didn’t get up from his seated position on the bed. It was still dark out. Sadly, I hadn’t slept the whole miserable day away.

"Where’s Bones?" I asked.

"He’s outside, should be back in shortly."

I didn’t say anything, but my anguish at how things had deteriorated to where Bones couldn’t even take the time to wake me must have shown on my face. Spade sighed.

"He’s not used to this, Cat, and he’s handling it quite poorly."

"Not used to what?" Being married to a psychotic bitch? my mind supplied.

"Fear." Spade lowered his voice. "Crispin’s always prided himself on his emotional control, yet he has none with you. He’s never before experienced the fear of losing the person he loves to someone else. Oh, your friend Tate might brass Crispin off, but he knows Tate is no real threat. Gregor’s different. He’s older than Crispin, more powerful, and no one knows how much you might have cared for him."

I was afraid Spade had underestimated the situation. "I don’t think that’s the issue. Bones and I can’t even be around each other without fighting."

"Both of you are in foul tempers with little to do but lash out at each other, but don’t lose sight of priorities. Isn’t he what you’re fighting for?"

I bit my lip. "What if it is me that’s giving away our location? What if everything I know gets repeated to Gregor in my sleep somehow? I’d be putting everyone in danger by just waking up! And I can’t seem to get a grip on myself."

My voice cracked. The room blurred as my eyes filled up. See? Emotional train wreck, just like I’d described.

"I think I should go to Don," I said finally, wiping my eyes. "He has facilities I don’t know about, and they’re built to withstand bunker-buster bombs. I could wait there until things calmed down. And then I wouldn’t be jeopardizing everyone around me – "

"You’re not going anywhere."

Bones filled the doorframe behind Spade. I hadn’t even heard him come up the stairs; he’d moved almost as silently as Fabian. Green glinted in his eyes, and his expression was granite.

"In case you weren’t paying attention, Kitten, I’ll say it again. You’re not going anywhere. Not to Don, or to anyone else. You’re mine, so don’t mention leaving again."

This wasn’t a tender declaration of "I need you here with me." No, it was the dispassionate pronouncement of "You’re my ball and chain, and it’s my ankle you’re shackled to!" Bones turned and walked away after making the statement, not bothering to say anything else.

Spade squeezed my hand before sliding off the bed, looking at me almost pityingly before he left.

"It will be all right."

I didn’t argue, but I didn’t believe him. Bones hadn’t even given me a chance to apologize for earlier before he’d stalked off. Everything that mattered to me – my relationship with Bones, my independence, being there for my friends, taking down murderers – all that was in tatters. Most of that was Gregor’s fault. Some of it, however, was mine. At least I could do something about that.

First things first. I had to get my wildly swinging emotions under control so that when I saw Bones later, we could talk things out. I concentrated on my emotional defenses, strong barriers forged from my childhood days when even my mother rejected me, then honed and thickened over the years when I’d left Bones. They were as familiar to me as my skin, and right now, they were the only things that could hold me together.

When I felt grounded enough, I began to plan. I’d start with a long, hot shower, then do some training to blow off steam. If I was lucky, I’d get Ian to spar with me. Tearing into him sounded like a good start, and he’d been spoiling for a rematch since the day I beat him.

Well, Ian, I thought, today’s your lucky day!

And then after that, I’d talk to Bones. Try to hash things out between us before they got any worse.

Chapter Twelve

IAN GLOWERED UP AT ME. "IF IT WEREN’T SO bleedin’ close to dawn, I’d make you beg for mercy."

I was on top of him, my legs on either side of his waist. He might have liked it under other circumstances. Right now, though, with a knife sticking out of his chest, he had other things on his mind.

"Sore loser," I responded, yanking the blade out and leaping to my feet. "Come on. Again."

"This is a poor substitute for shagging," he grumbled, rising and frowning at the rent in his shirt. "You’ve ruined it."

"I told you to just take it off." With a shrug.

Ian grinned at me. "Ah, but I thought you only wanted to enjoy the goods, poppet."

He’d kept up a steady stream of comments and innuendoes designed to throw me off my game. I didn’t take it seriously. I knew it was just how he operated.

"Keep talking, pretty boy. It only makes your silent moments better."

That drew a laugh as we circled each other. Ian’s eyes glittered with expectation. He loved a nasty brawl. It was one of his admirable qualities.

"Find me pretty, do you? I always knew it. Alas, Reaper, we’d have had a grand time of it before, but you had to marry Crispin. Now you’re off-limits forever, but it would have been fun. Very fun."