I nearly melted into the floor, or threw my arm around him and kissed him. I didn't, but it was close.
And I vowed silently, then and there, that the next time Lucian was a complete asshole I'd remember this display of trust and loyalty and let it go.
Maybe it was the mate bond, but I didn't think so. He'd been perfectly willing to give me crap all morning, and he'd told me to my face he thought I might be lying about the kidnapping two nights before.
Either he'd changed his mind, or he had the kindness to have my back in public. Either way, right then, he was my hero.
Jace had the good grace to look a little sheepish as he glanced away, breaking first in his staring contest with Lucian.
"I'm not saying Landon wasn't kidnapped," he muttered.
Even though, you know, that was exactly what he'd said. "Just that Sam Kimball didn't know about it. Because I don't think he did. And look," he went on, meeting my eyes again. "Isn't it possible it wasn't the Kimball shaman you saw? I'm not saying it wasn't werewolves or that there wasn't a shaman there. But could it have been a different one? Because what reason do the Kimballs have to target you?"
Some of my upset drained away. It was a little aggravating to have my memories questioned, but I had been drugged, chained, panicked, and cursed at the time.
It wasn't an unreasonable question. So I closed my eyes and tried to picture the scene again, focusing on the shaman's face.
Dammit. It could've been that shaman, but he'd been in shadow most of the time, his features only picked out now and again by the flames in his casting bowl.
I'd assumed it was him, because he'd looked enough like him, and I didn't know of any other shamans in the area. That didn't mean there wasn't one.
"Yeah," I said at last, with reluctance. I let out a long whoosh of breath. "Yeah. It could have been someone else. It looked like him, but it's not like I've spent much time around the guy."
"Good," Jace said, brightening.
I bit my lip.
Jace was way, way too eager to believe the Kimballs had nothing to do with this. I got that — they were the closest pack to Reese territory by far, and getting along with them was crucial to Jace's pack's well-being — but it seemed more than a little naive. Or at least way too optimistic. "Then maybe —"
"Not good," Lucian spat. "Good would be no one being kidnapped, cursed, or forced into mating bonds they hate. Good and 'rogue shaman on the loose trying to turn warlocks into weapons to use against us' aren't even in the same universe, Jace! If it wasn't the Kimballs, it was someone else, and I could swear I smelled some of them. Either way, it's still not good!"
I agreed with him. Fuck, did I ever agree with him, in every particular. But forced into mating bonds they hate echoed in my ears, repeating over and over again.
I'd known he wasn't exactly crazy about the idea. But forced? He felt forced? Had that been nonconsensual, in his mind, when I'd sunk down on his cock and kissed him?
Jace shouted back, calling Lucian an idiot. He argued that it was better if the Kimballs weren't involved—after all, they'd want the same thing as the Reeses: to keep rival packs' shamans out of town.
Allies or not, it didn't matter.
Lucian cut him off, yelling at Jace to get his head out of his ass.
But the mating bonds they hate and turn warlocks into weapons kept turning and turning in my mind.
It hurt, and it sucked, and I hated being nothing but a pawn. Again.
Lucian hadn't wanted anything to do with me, and neither did that asshole shaman, really.
I was a means to an end. No one thought I was good for anything except to be a pawn.
And when I thought about it that way, it at least clarified the issue a little, if nothing else.
"Shut up, both of you."
They kept yelling.
"Shut up!" I screamed, the words tearing out of my throat.
They'd turned to face each other, hands on their hips, and now they both turned their heads and glared at me.
"What?" Jace demanded, clearly not so happy about being interrupted while he was building up a good head of steam.
Well, screw him. He could trade insults with his brother on his own time.
"The result is the same," I said quietly. Partly to irritate them, but partly because my voice felt as small and pathetic as the rest of me.
It took real effort to get the words out. "It didn't have anything to do with me. We knew that from the start. Like Lucian said, I was just a weapon. Maybe even a messenger, sort of."
"A messenger?" Jace made a face. "You heard them talking about their plans for you. You were supposed to be a spy, not tell us anything. That's kind of the point."
I ignored how condescending he sounded. That was definitely not the point, no matter how it rubbed me the wrong way.
"Yeah, it would be. If they thought I'd be any good as a spy." I laughed, and it sounded as raw and bitter as I felt. "I think whoever took me, they had a few different plans, a few different ways I could pan out as a plant in your pack. One's obvious: earn your trust and kill you. But I don't think they thought I could really pull it off."
I thought back to the two weres who'd been talking: one of them cocksure and arrogant, the other a little less so. A little more thoughtful.
"Or at least, one of them didn't. I think the real plan, or maybe the strong plan B, was that you'd figure it out. I'd crack, and fuck up, and be too weak to stand up to you. And then you'd have all the evidence you needed to start a war with the Kimball pack. If it's the Kimballs behind this, then you'd be making yourselves the bad guys, and they could annihilate you without any other packs interfering."
To my shock, Lucian scoffed, finally turning from Jace and letting their argument go. "Too weak? Haven't those morons seen what you can do?"
Oh, fuck, how I wished in that moment that Lucian didn't hate me, because if he kept saying things like that, I'd start to…not-hate him.
"Thanks," I choked out. "But no. They haven't. And I appreciate the vote of confidence," and gods did I ever? "but they wouldn't be totally wrong about that. I have a lot of power. I'm not so good at channeling it. And, you know. I'm not the kind of tough guy who laughs in the face of werewolf interrogation techniques."
Jace laughed and shook his head, dispelling what was left of the lingering tension. "That's a fancy way to describe popping out our claws and growling a lot."
"Yeah, well," I said, wishing I could laugh with him. "Either way, they probably thought I'd crack."
"You showed them," Lucian muttered, giving me a little nod that looked oddly respectful. "Escaping like that."
What the hell? I was getting whiplash.
First he said he hated being with me, and then...this whole conversation was weird as fuck.
"I guess I did," I said, shifting around and ending up with my arms crossed, as if that would keep me safe from either Lucian's werewolfery or his bizarre compliments.
"Anyway. What you need to be asking is, who would benefit from you and the Kimballs getting into all-out hostilities? It could be the Kimball shaman. It could be Sam Kimball. It could be another pack. It could be someone else who hired weres to kidnap me. But that's the real point of this, I'm pretty sure."
Jace slumped back against the sink with a long, weary sigh. "I was really hoping this could be simple. But yeah. I'm having trouble arguing with that. And now I'm back to square one on figuring out what the fuck is going on."
"First step is setting wards and letting me get my laptop and some research books from my place," I put in hopefully. "And clothes. I need clothes. So...someone wants to give me a ride?"
Jace waved his hand wearily in Lucian's direction. "Best bodyguard in the state. Not the best driver, but beggars can't be —"
"Shut the fuck up," Lucian cut in — luckily, because he took the words right out of my mouth. "Landon, I'll be in the car." And he stomped out of the kitchen, brushing past us both.
The thumps of his boots got fainter through the big front room of the pack house, and then I jumped as the front door slammed hard enough to rattle the windows.
"Please stay out of trouble," Jace said. He sounded a lot less optimistic, not that I could blame him, given my track record, not to mention Lucian's.
"Groceries, laptop, low body count," I promised him.
He smiled weakly in return, all that my feeble attempt at humor deserved, and I pushed off the table and went to follow Lucian to the car.