We dozed off, then groggily got up about an hour later and went in to brush our teeth, taking turns because the antiquated bathroom only had a small vanity with one sink. Then we fell asleep for real, snuggled up against each other, letting the dying fire lend its own warmth to the room. My wistful fantasies had come true; I finally did have Connor lying here next to me in the big king-size bed.
The next morning I was awoken by a metallic buzzing sound. Connor’s phone. He’d left it on the nightstand, and apparently it was set to vibrate.
I reached out and picked it up without looking at the screen, and dropped it on his chest. “For you.”
“Wha — oh.” He sat up, grabbing the phone before it fell down in the depths of the rumpled bedclothes. “What time is it?”
“A little past eight,” I replied after a quick glance at the clock on the mantel.
A sound of disapproval escaped his throat, although I thought it was directed more at whoever was contacting him so early in the morning. He brushed his finger across the screen to unlock it, then scowled.
“That good, huh?”
In response, he angled the phone so I could read the text displayed there. Just four words, in all caps.
ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE?
“I guess Damon finally figured out where you were,” I commented. It was a lot easier to be blithe about one of Damon’s rages when he was safely miles and miles away. “I thought you said he doesn’t like using phones.”
“He doesn’t. But since this is pretty much the only way he can get hold of me right now….” A little light began dancing in his eyes as he started tapping in a reply.
I craned my head to see what he was writing, but the angle was wrong, and all I caught was a glare off the screen.
When he was done, Connor helpfully turned the phone so I could see what he had just typed in. Crazy, yeah…crazy in love. Talk l8er.
The “crazy in love” line sent a warm shiver down my spine. Even so, I grinned and asked, “So which part of that message is he going to hate more…the ‘in love’ part or the text-speak?”
An answering smile lit up Connor’s face. “Hard to say. But I figured I’d throw both in, just to really piss him off.”
I leaned over and kissed him. “Do you know how much I love you?”
“I have a vague idea, yeah.”
“So what are you going to do about Damon?”
“Nothing.”
Shooting him a dubious look, I said, “Nothing?”
His shoulders lifted, and I let myself admire the shift of the muscles under his smooth, warm-toned skin. “Well, it’s not as if he’s going to come down here and get into it with me. So he can stew in his juices until we get back to Flagstaff.”
“And what then?”
“We’ll deal with it then. But I’m thinking it’s about time I told him to back off and butt out.” He leaned across me and dropped his iPhone back on the nightstand.
This display of bravado surprised me. No, I didn’t exactly think Connor was under Damon’s thumb completely, but their previous interactions had seemed to indicate that Connor usually let his older brother get his way. Where this new confidence had come from, I wasn’t entirely sure. I didn’t want to take all the credit myself, but….
Mary Mullen had told me Connor was lost. At the time I’d wondered at her remark, but didn’t have much opportunity to pursue it. Maybe it was simply that he’d lost his way, allowed his brother to control his life because he didn’t have many other options. It was possible that being with me now had given him the chance he so desperately needed to separate himself from his brother’s whims and ambitions, to make his own future.
I hoped so. He’d been through enough already. It was time for him to shine.
But first things first. I leaned over and gave him a kiss…on the cheek, because I could tell from the set of his jaw and the glint in his eyes that he was not in the mood for anything else. “Do you want to shower first, or should I? Because I know if we both try to get in that claw-foot tub at the same time, we’re just asking for trouble.”
He let me shower first, and then went in the bathroom when I was done. I didn’t know if Damon had replied while I was out of the room, and I got the feeling I really shouldn’t ask. So I didn’t.
Instead, while Connor was showering I went downstairs and went to take stock of the refrigerator to see what I could make for breakfast. There was an untouched carton of eggs, and an unopened package of applewood-smoked bacon. I recalled that I’d planned to make Adam a big breakfast the day after — well, the day after we were going to spend a night together. A night that never happened, thanks to Damon Wilcox.
I couldn’t even be angry about that. Not anymore. Not when his little plot had brought me to Connor.
But then I thought, Adam, and shook my head. I really, really hoped that he wasn’t around, that I wouldn’t have to see him. Cowardly, I know, but I also knew that him seeing me with Connor would only hurt him, and I didn’t want that. I wanted some time to pass so he could get a little distance, move on, maybe — I hoped — meet somebody else, and realize he shouldn’t have to settle for someone who didn’t really love him, not in the way he deserved.
Shaking that off for now, I realized that everything I’d bought was still fresh enough to use. After all, it hadn’t even been a week yet. Or rather, I’d bought these items exactly a week ago, just the day before I’d been taken from this very house and my entire life had changed.
For the better, although I certainly hadn’t looked at the situation in that way at the time. Now, though….
I glanced upward, more or less in the direction of the bathroom. In the background, I could hear the faint metallic sound of water running through the pipes. If I even turned on the tap right now to start some coffee, I knew I’d hear Connor yelling a few seconds later, since the antiquated water heater couldn’t handle the load. So much I’d planned to do here, so much that still needed to be done. Would it happen? I had no idea. I didn’t know where Connor and I were going to end up permanently. It seemed unthinkable that I would abandon my clan, leave Jerome, but I didn’t know if I was strong enough to live with their censure day in and day out.
Well, worry about that later, I told myself. Baby steps. Like getting breakfast together first.
That seemed logical enough. Never make big decisions on an empty stomach, my aunt had told me once, and although she apparently wasn’t speaking to me right now, that didn’t mean her advice wasn’t sound.
The water turned off upstairs, which meant I could make myself some much-needed coffee. I slipped a hazelnut cream pod into the Keurig and then pulled out the ingredients to make a batch of biscuits. Mixing and sifting the flour and baking powder helped to take my mind off my problems, and so did the smell of bacon once I got that going. Nothing like bacon to take your mind off your woes.
Being male, Connor was drawn to the smell of that bacon like a moth to a flame. He came into the room a few minutes after the scent began to drift out of the kitchen and through the house. His nose twitched appreciatively.
“Bacon? Seriously? I was sure we would have to go out and then get glared at by every McAllister within a fifty-foot radius.” His hair was still damp; obviously he’d just blotted it and hadn’t bothered with much else. He was fully dressed, but I noticed he’d wandered down in his socks, leaving his shoes upstairs.
“I wouldn’t subject you to that. Coffee? I know it’s not your French press, but I’ve got some flavors that aren’t too frilly. Italian roast, maybe?”
His gaze flickered toward the coffeemaker, and for a second I thought he might make a crack about pre-fab coffee. But then he nodded. “Sounds good.”
I went and got it started for him, and went back over to the stove so I could flip the bacon. “I forgot to ask last night — you’re not going to be sticking pins in voodoo dolls or something to make sure you can get a room at the Weatherford for Anthony and Sydney, are you?”
A grin. “Wow, you still have such a low opinion of me, don’t you?”
“No, but….” Damn, had I offended him?
“It’s okay,” he said, relenting. “No voodoo dolls. But a Wilcox cousin owns the place, and he generally leaves a room vacant in case anyone in the family needs it for business or something.”
That sounded fairly innocuous. “Okay.” I hesitated, then asked, “How much of Flagstaff does your family control…really?”
The Keurig beeped, and Connor went over and poured his coffee into the mug I’d already set out for him. He settled down on one of the rickety chairs at the kitchen table before replying, “Not as much as you probably think, but…we’ve been there for more than a hundred years. Of course we own a lot of real estate in and around town, same as you McAllisters do here in Jerome.”
Logical enough, I guessed. It was time to get the eggs started, so I decided to let it go for now. “How do you like them? Scrambled? Over easy?”
“Scrambled.”
A boy after my own heart. Runny eggs were one of my irrational dislikes. I cracked half a dozen into a bowl, put in some milk, and beat them to a froth before pouring them into a skillet I’d had preheating.
“I could get used to this,” he went on, watching me as I worked.
“To what? Me in the kitchen? I guess next it would be barefoot and pregnant, right?”
His expression went dark. “No, probably not that.”
Shit. We’d danced around the issue, left it alone, hadn’t addressed it after I’d assured him that the little charm I mentally uttered every time we had sex would be enough to protect me. And it would — or so I’d been told. Even so, I could still hear Margot Emory’s words echoing in the back of my mind.
The wives of Jeremiah’s line would never live to see their children grow up.
“Sorry,” I began, but he shook his head.
“No, we should have talked about it before this. It’s out there, waiting. And I don’t know what to do about it.”
“We’ll figure it out,” I said, trying to sound reassuring, but I didn’t believe my own words. The Wilcox curse had been claiming its victims for the last hundred and thirty years or so — who was I to think that Connor and I could possibly come up with some way of circumventing it?
“Damon hasn’t had much luck with that,” Connor remarked bitterly, and sipped his coffee.
“I know, but….” A sudden thought occurred to me. “When I was told of the curse, the words were ‘the wives of Jeremiah’s line.’ So what if we just stay, I don’t know, shacked up together and never make it official?”
“You think that wasn’t tried?”
“Was it?”
“Oh, yeah.” He drank some more coffee, while I hurried back to the stove and flipped the bacon, then started pushing the eggs around in the skillet so they wouldn’t get too brown. “Jeremiah’s son, Jacob, he had a child with one of his cousins out of wedlock. She went insane and threw herself out of a second-story window.”
Although the kitchen was warm, it felt like someone had just dragged an icicle down my back.
“And that son, Jonah, he thought maybe it was just a coincidence, and convinced his childhood sweetheart — a third cousin — that she should also be with him without the benefit of matrimony. She was knocked down by a runaway horse and killed a week after she moved in. So Jonah got himself a nice biddable second cousin, had a son with her — and then she died of scarlet fever a few months later.”
“Stop it,” I said. I wanted to put my hands over my ears, but I was busy with the food — and Aunt Rachel had trained me so well that I didn’t even think about not tending to it.
“I wish I could,” Connor said, eyes glittering. “But you need to know the truth. I love you, and it kills me that something terrible could happen to you. If we don’t ever have a child, maybe — maybe you’ll be safe.”
I didn’t want to think about that. While I certainly wasn’t eager to have a baby anytime in the near future, I’d always thought one day I would have a family. It’s just what the prima did — married her consort and had children and lived out her days as the matriarch of the clan. Acknowledging that such a future might not be viable for me was not something I wanted to face.
“Well, maybe it’s just the whole primus thing,” I said. “What about the children of the men who were of Jeremiah’s line but were the younger brothers?”
“I don’t know,” Connor admitted, and his dark brows pulled together in a frown. “After Jeremiah — he did have family who came with him, three brothers and a sister, and their children — all of the primuses were only children. Until now…until me.”
“Really?” I asked, startled. I had to turn away from him then, since, as with most meals, everything was ready at once, and I had to get the eggs dished up and the bacon draining and the biscuits out of the oven before they went from golden brown to just plain brown. Once everything was ready, and I’d taken the food over to the kitchen table, I went on, “So what does that mean?”
He shrugged. “No one knows for sure. I told you everyone thought it was strange that my mother lasted so long after Damon was born. They thought she’d be gone within the year, just like all the other primus wives had. But she seemed to be all right, and time went on, and then…then there was me. The miracle baby.”
This last was said in such dry tones that I knew he thought the exact opposite, that he wasn’t such a miracle after all. I would beg to differ, but I wasn’t about to get into that argument right now.
“Well, then,” I said, “maybe the curse doesn’t apply to you. After all, you’re of Jeremiah’s line, but you’re not the primus. It could be okay.”
“Do you want to risk it?”
The question hung, heavy in the air. I swallowed. “Not right away. No, of course not. But I think it means there might be some hope.”
“Hope.” He was quiet for a moment, considering. “That would be nice. But my family history doesn’t have too much hope in it.”
No, I thought, not much hope at all. Suicide and madness and untimely death. Not a very good basis for family planning.
I didn’t say any of that, of course. Instead, I reached out and touched his hand, squeezing his fingers gently, so he’d know I wasn’t about to give up, that I wanted to be with him, no matter what.
Even if it kills you? I wondered.
I refused to answer the question.
We ate in silence after that, neither one of us wanting to pursue the subject any further. Maybe it was better to let it go for now. After all, even though we shared the consort bond, knew this thing between us was serious and not some fling to be put aside in a few days or weeks or even months, we still had plenty of time. I had just turned twenty-two, after all, and I’d always wanted to wait until I was closer to thirty before I started a family. That was a lot of years to figure out how to stave off the Wilcox curse.
After we were done with breakfast, and Connor had washed the plates and silverware, and put them in the dish drain— he insisted on doing that, even though I said it was no big deal — I said, “Can I ask you another question?”
His expression told me that he really didn’t want me to, but he replied, evenly enough, “Sure.”
The image of the young woman with the honey-blonde hair, the one I’d seen Damon put his arm around, flickered in my mind. “Why do the women in your clan even allow themselves to be with the primus? I mean, at the first hint that he might be interested, you’d think they’d head for the hills.”
He finished wiping his hands on the dish towel and then hung it back from the hook where he’d found it. “Why do women in some off-shoot religions right here in America allow themselves to be married off to a man who already has five wives? Why did people drink the Kool-Aid at Jonestown? You can call it cultural conditioning or brainwashing or whatever you want — in my clan, it’s considered an honor to be the wife of the primus, to bear his child, even though you won’t be around to see that son grow up. And while you’re in that position, even if it only lasts for six months or a year or two, you’re the queen of the world.”
“That’s — sick,” I replied, staring at him in disbelief. Something in the cold mask that had settled over his features as he gave his reply reminded me a little too much of his brother, and I shook my head to rid it of that image.
“You think so, and I think so, but….” He lifted his shoulders. “It’s just the way it is.”
I had to ask. “And your mother thought the same way?”
“I don’t know. I was only three when she died, remember? We didn’t exactly have a lot of mother-son heart-to-heart talks. And if she ever said anything to Damon, he never shared it with me.”
No, he probably wouldn’t. I could tell from the tight set of Connor’s mouth and the shuttered look in his eyes that he really didn’t want to discuss the topic any further. Fine, I’d let it go for now. I’d heard enough, actually — enough to be very glad that we McAllisters had a way for me to sidestep the curse for now. No baby, no untimely death. Simple math.
“Okay,” I said. “You want to get out of here for a while? It looks like it’s shaping up to be a nice day.”
It was, too. When we left the house about ten minutes later, Connor still looking grim and preoccupied, I was glad of the bright sun overhead, the deep clear blue of the sky, the white puffs of clouds that moved with winds aloft, sending racing shadows over the hillsides. He didn’t exactly smile, but as we walked, with the crisp, cold breeze pulling at our hair and the scarves wound around our necks, I could see the set of his shoulders begin to relax a little, even though he was walking through what was, for him, enemy territory.
Since it was the Friday of a holiday week, and so many people had the days between Christmas and New Year’s off, Jerome was packed with tourists. I used to hate days like this, since everywhere I went was overrun, but now I was glad of the crowds, glad of the protective coloration they provided. They made it so much easier for Connor and me to blend in with them. I couldn’t know for sure that members of my clan weren’t watching us, but I didn’t see anyone, and I took care to guide Connor toward the shops owned by civilians, and not McAllisters.
I began to relax. Big mistake.
The two of us were just leaving a shop that specialized in rocks and minerals and various Arizona-themed tchotkes when I heard Adam’s voice.
“So it is true.”
Connor and I halted, and then we both seemed to realize at the same time that we were blocking the doorway. Although I wished I could run back in the shop and hide in the storeroom, I knew that wasn’t a very practical option. So we moved outside and paused a few steps away from the door, in front of one of the shop windows.
“Hi, Adam,” I said, trying to sound casual and probably failing utterly. Beside me, Connor had gone tense, but he was silent, waiting for me to take the lead here. I didn’t like it, but it made sense. This wasn’t his fight.
I could tell Adam wanted to make it his, though. Scowling, he glanced from me to Connor, where his angry blue-gray stare lingered. “I didn’t want to believe it,” he said. “I couldn’t believe that you’d actually stoop so low as to be with a Wilcox.”
Connor’s jaw clenched at that, but he said nothing.
“Adam, he’s my consort,” I replied.
“Right, like I’m supposed to believe that.”
“Believe whatever you want. I know what the truth is.”
That was definitely not what he wanted to hear. I could see the way his chest rose and fell under his sweatshirt, the way his cheekbones were flushed with anger. A family passed us, two kids in tow, and I could almost feel the woman’s curious gaze settle on our tense little group. It was pretty clear that the three of us weren’t exactly having a friendly conversation.
“Look,” Connor put in, “this has been hard for everyone. We’re just trying to figure it out as we go along, okay?”
“Hard?” Adam repeated. He looked like he wanted to push Connor over the nearest cliff — not that I thought he’d probably win any kind of physical contest between the two of them. Connor had about two inches on Adam, and was much more muscular.
As for a magical contest, well, I still didn’t know the extent of Connor’s talents, but unless Adam could use his weather magic to summon a storm cloud to throw a few lightning bolts Connor’s way, I had a feeling he wouldn’t prevail in a confrontation like that, either.
“You don’t know what ‘hard’ is, Wilcox,” Adam continued. “Hard is seeing the woman you love stolen out right from under you — only to find out she’s gone over to the enemy side!”
“Whoa,” I cut in. “I’m not on their side.”
“Whose side are you on, then?”
“Mine.” I reached out and took Connor’s hand, wrapping my fingers around his gloved ones. “His. The rest of you — McAllisters and Wilcoxes and whoever else tries to interfere with that — can just fuck off. Let’s go, Connor.”
I pushed past Adam, and although I could tell he wanted to reach out and grab my arm, keep me from leaving, something in the warning glare I shot at him must have told him that he needed to back off, and now. Connor wisely kept silent, following me as I threaded my way through the crowds, marching back up the hill toward the house. Any desire I might have had to spend some time showing him around my hometown had been effectively killed by that encounter.
It wasn’t until we were back inside the big Victorian at the top of the hill that Connor said anything. “You can’t really blame him,” he told me gently as I slammed the front door behind us.
“Yes, I can, and I am,” I snapped, unwrapping the scarf from around my neck and unbuttoning my coat. “He wouldn’t have acted that way if my consort had turned out to be Alex Trujillo or someone like that.”
“Alex Trujillo, huh? Any reason you should mention him out of all the possible candidates you kissed?”
My face felt flushed, and it probably didn’t have much to do with the cool and breezy air outside. “No, I’m just saying that if my consort had been one of the ‘approved’ candidates, then Adam wouldn’t have had a problem with it.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Connor took off his own scarf and coat, then hung them in the downstairs closet next to mine. “I don’t know him, but it’s pretty clear that Adam’s in love with you. It can’t be easy to see the person you love with someone else — even if that person isn’t a big bad Wilcox. But since I am, that makes it that much worse.”
I didn’t want to acknowledge the truth in his words, but deep down, I knew he was right. Yes, Adam would’ve dealt with it if I’d ended up with Alex or someone else like him, but he wouldn’t have been happy. What he’d wanted was for me to never meet my true consort, so I could end up with him instead.
“Is it too early for a drink?” I inquired. “Because I could really use one.”
“Hey, it’s always five o’clock somewhere,” Connor replied lightly. “But I don’t think that’s really going to solve your problem.”
“I don’t think anything is.”
His eyes, watching me, were sympathetic. It really had been stupid for me to come here, but I just hadn’t wanted to acknowledge how deep the prejudice against the Wilcoxes ran. For whatever reason, it was more important to my family that my consort was one of the enemy than I was one of them. That I was their prima.
And that hurt worst of all, because the prima was supposed to be everything — clan leader and touchstone, the person they looked up to, the one who provided strength and protection and guidance. Or that was how it had seemed to me when Great-Aunt Ruby was the head of our clan. But she wasn’t some untried and untested girl, and her consort had been someone universally liked and respected.
The hurt and betrayal must have been clear in my face, because suddenly I was in Connor’s arms, and he was holding me close, my face against his chest so I could hear his strong, slow heartbeat and feel the slight scratch of his wool sweater against my cheek. There, encircled in that embrace, I knew I was safe and loved and wanted — the complete opposite of how my family had made me feel.
A knock came at the door, and I let out a sigh. “Let’s ignore it.”
“Are you sure? Maybe it’s Adam, coming to apologize.”
“I doubt that. He’s just as stiff-necked and stubborn as I am.”
Connor chuckled, and brushed a kiss against the top of my head. “Hey, it’s your house. I’ll ignore it if you want me to do.”
The knock sounded again, louder this time. I waited, hoping whoever it was would go away. Then I heard Tobias’s voice. “Angela? Are you home?”
Damn. Adam I could have ignored, because I was angry with him, and probably ditto for my aunt, because that wound was even more raw. But Tobias?
“I’d better go see what he wants,” I said, and disentangled myself from Connor’s arms.
He nodded, and followed me out to the foyer, then took a quick peek through one of the side windows. “Oh, great — it’s the guy who looks like he could rip my arms and legs off.”
“Shh. I told you he’s a big teddy bear.” Trying to adjust my expression so my recent angst wouldn’t be too obvious, I opened the door.
Tobias gave me a diffident smile. “Hi, Angela. Are you busy?”
“No. I mean — we were just sort of hanging out. Come on in.”
I stepped out of the way so he could enter, and I noticed Connor backing off a pace or two. Despite everything that was going on, I couldn’t help smiling a little. Figuring I might as well get it over with, I said, “Tobias, this is Connor Wilcox. Connor, this is Tobias Mills. He’s my aunt’s — ” I broke off and tilted my head to the side. “How do you two refer to yourselves, anyway?”
“‘Very good friends’ will do,” he replied, dark eyes twinkling at me. “I’d say it was nice to meet you, Connor, but I have a feeling you wouldn’t believe me.”
Connor’s eyebrows went up. “Well, I — ”
“Never mind,” Tobias cut in. “Angela, do you mind if we talk a little?” His gaze shifted to Connor and then back to me. “Alone?”
“No problem,” Connor said at once. “I can go upstairs to the library. I left a book up there anyway. Nice to meet you, Tobias.” He approached me, squeezed my hand, and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. “It’ll be fine,” he whispered, and headed up the steps to the second floor.
I wasn’t so sure about that, but I made myself turn to Tobias and said, “Let’s go back to the family room. Can I get you a cup of coffee or anything?”
“No, I’m fine.”
So much for that delaying tactic. I led him toward the rear of the house, toward the cozy space that was now the TV room and my preferred hangout, since the living room still felt a little too grand and formal, even after all the redecorating I’d done.
There were logs stacked in the fireplace, but I didn’t bother to set them alight. I didn’t want to make the room too comfortable. I only wanted Tobias to have his say and then leave so I could get the hell out of here. Maybe I was being a coward, and maybe I was crazy for thinking I’d be more welcome back in Flagstaff, but that was the way it sure felt.
“Just one thing, Tobias,” I said, as he settled himself on the leather sofa. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture, so if that’s why you’ve come here — ”
“It isn’t.” The laugh lines around his eyes looked deeper than I remembered. He seemed tired, which wasn’t normal for him. He was always hearty, energetic, up for anything. “So Connor Wilcox really is your consort.”
“For the hundredth time, yes, and if you think it’s something I planned — ”
“He seems like a nice young man.”
That comment stopped me in my tracks. “He — what?”
“He seems like a nice young man.” Tobias scrubbed his hand over his goatee and paused, seeming to consider. “Never thought I’d say something like that, but it’s true. And it’s what I’ll go back and tell Rachel, although I doubt she wants to hear it. You’ve shocked everyone with this, Angela, and it’s going to take some time for them to come to terms with it. But I just wanted to let you know that they’ll come around eventually.”
“And how do you know this?” Tobias wasn’t an elder, so I didn’t see how he could be so sure.
“Because I know them. The McAllisters need their prima. They’re not going to cast her out simply because her consort is none of their choosing. They’ll all come to acceptance in their own way. Why, Rachel — ”
“Yes, what about Rachel?” I demanded. “Because yesterday she was looking at me like something she wanted to scrape off her shoe.”
“She’s sorry about that, Angela. She said as much to me. She said she was shocked and scared and didn’t know what to think. She’s already regretting how she behaved toward you.”
“So why couldn’t she come and tell me that herself?”
He gave me a calm, level look. “Now, Angela, you know your aunt isn’t very good at apologies.”
That was true. It took a lot to get her to lose her temper, but when she did, it was well and truly lost…and afterward she generally wanted to act as if the explosion had never happened. “Does she know you’re here?”
“No, and she’ll probably kick my ass when she finds out. But that’s not important. What’s important is that you just give us a little time. Everything will work out in the end.”
I wanted to believe that. I really did. But my relatives weren’t the only ones who needed some space. “I’ll give you as much time as you need,” I replied, “because I’m going back to Flagstaff.”
A frown, one he quickly erased. “Do you really think you’ll be safe there?”
“I’m safe with Connor.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“What do you want me to say, Tobias?” I crossed my arms and met his worried gaze. “I’m not going to deny that Damon Wilcox is a slippery bastard, and I don’t trust him at all and never will, but I also know he won’t do anything to me. I’ve bonded to his brother, and there’s nothing he can do about that. And staying here….” The words disappeared somewhere between Tobias and myself, erasing themselves before I could finish the thought. “It’s not going to work. Not right now, anyway. You tell Aunt Rachel what you need to tell her, and the whole clan, if you want. I’m not going away forever. But it hurts to be here right now, hurts to have people looking at me like I’m some kind of leper. So, as you said, let time heal things for a bit. If you need me, you know where to find me.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, actually, I don’t.”
“Then call. I have my phone now. But I want — I just want to be with Connor for a while.”
My words didn’t seem to have reassured him very much, but he gave a reluctant nod. “All right. You’re the prima, and you’ll do what you feel is necessary. But don’t — don’t be away so long that you forget who you are.”
He left after that, murmuring a quiet goodbye, and I saw him to the door, then shut it behind him.
Forget who I was? How could I do that, when every resentful glance told me that a McAllister prima shouldn’t have betrayed her clan the way I had?
Taking a breath, I went upstairs to tell Connor I wanted to head back to Flagstaff.