CHAPTER FIFTY SEVEN


One light was on. The television was off and one window was open to let in
the breeze.


I felt the storm coming, but what startled me the most was when Jace appeared
in the doorway. I hadn't noticed that the door had opened, but there he was.


"Jesus." I murmured.


Jace grinned cockily and remarked, "Maybe later."


The six hours gone must've been productive for him. He was in a good mood,
but then when wasn't he? He could be intense. He could be intentionally trying
to get a reaction out of me, but for all that had gone down—Jace was always
either in a good mood or always in control. Even when he was fighting—Jace was
in control. To see him out of control, that'd be a day in history. To see a
shaken Jace, that day would end me.


Jace eyed the books in front of me and asked, "Any headway on those
things?"


As he pulled off his shirt and reached for a dry one, I replied, "It's a code
and it was developed so that others can't understand it so—no. No headway." When
he sat on the edge of the bed, I asked, "You found Chance?"


"Yep." He nodded. "And I met up with Krein. He gave us the coordinates for
the encampment."


"What?!" I didn't know what else to say. He couldn't have just said…but he
did.


"We got the coordinates." Jace stood again and repeated solemnly. "We're
going in. We got the coordinates, Maya."


"But…" I gestured weakly to the books.


"All this means is that we don't need them to find the encampment, but
there's a whole ton of information in those books that we are going to need to
prosecute the rest of the business. We're going to need it, Maya."


I was thrown. We got the coordinates and Krein had been the one to give
them.


"How do you know that it's not a trap?" I asked quietly.


Lightning exploded behind me and the storm had come.


Jace quieted, sighed, and came to stand behind me. He propped open another
window and leaned on the windowsill. The sound of rain quickly filled the room,
but I waited for an answer.


It never came, but then—solemnly, Jace murmured, "We'll deal. That's what
we'll do."


I turned in the chair, raked my gaze over his shut-off expression, and
reminded him, "He's the 'deal with the devil.' You can't bank on his loyalty to
me or Gray. You just can't. Krein already…he turned his back on me already. And
he didn't want anything to do with Gray, not when Cherry—"


"Cherry never told him!" Jace said sharply.


It was a glimmer through his wall. Just a glimmer.


Jace continued, "She never told him. You told him—you were the first one to
tell him that he had a son and he saw him, remember? Jake's girl took Gray to
Krein. He's seen him, Maya. Krein saw his son…look—for all the shit that went
down between me and Krein, he was my best friend for six years. Six fucking
years, Maya! I know a little about your brother and he's not the type to see his
son and turn his back on him."


I stood up slowly, the rain pounded furiously on the window, and I murmured
in a low tone, "He did it to me. He protected me and then he abandoned me. I was
his sister."


"You still are."


"No. No, I'm not. I thought he had a chance, when he was in prison—I thought
it would make him deal with everything that's he done, but you got him out. He
never learned that lesson."


"He has a son that was taken from him, again! That's a lesson that I would
never want someone, even a guy who hates me, go through. I've been there, Maya.
You haven't."


"Don't tell me—"


"You don't have a child! I do! And my son…"


…is gone.


He never said the words, but they were heard.


The lightning flashed, the thunder blared, and I felt the cold reality of a
gunshot echo in the distance.


Someone wasn't going to make it out of this alive. I just didn't know if it'd
be me, Jace, Marcus, Krein, or—God help us—but Gray…Munsinger was already gone.
Zara was gone. How many more?


Gravon.


Petrie.


Did Stirley and Cassandra count?


We lost two on our side to two from their team. And that wasn't even counting
those lost before it all went down…Brian, Kendra, who else?


Jace cursed and apologized, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to come back and argue
with you."


I didn't say a thing.


I felt more arguments were to come.


I'd said before—decisions were starting to trickle down to the final
count.


Jace lifted his chin and met my gaze. A flash of light flared over the lands
behind him. It accentuated his face and the shadows made him look lean, dark,
and deathly. Dangerous.


Jace was dangerous. He was the force to be reckoned that vowed to destroy
Galverson's seed of an empire.


"How are we going to get in? It's just us."


"Funding was cut, but I got word from Oscar and Scott. Neither of them went
into headquarters. They stayed where they are…and I have a feeling that I can
rally up enough undercovers to break their silence. We might be okay."


The books were left open on the table, displayed for the uselessness and
tribulations. I gestured to them, "What about those?"


"Keep working. We'll need what information you can get out of them. Who
knows—they might help save us in the end after all." Jace said softly and
squeezed my arm, reassuringly.


"They don't make any sense." I looked down. "There is one phrase that repeats
all over, but…I don't know what it means. 'Ela' and 'manna', but those words
don't make any sense with all the crap that's around them."


"Different meanings for the words or in another language? The books weren't
started with Marcus, he uses them, but they were coded before he got them.
Galverson had them, but I don't know if he coded them or had someone else code
them." Jace skimmed a hand down my arm as he spoke.


I liked the touch. It was soft, comforting, and a caress at the same time. He
caught my fingers and pulled me around.


I fit into his arms and he drew me close. I rested my forehead into his chest
and breathed out. Jace breathed with me and rested his cheek on top of my bent
head. He whispered, huskily, "I know that you can de-code these. These books
helped formulate the empire and Marcus depended on them. You know Marcus, but
you also see what other people don't see. I don't think you get how precious
that is—you can see in these books what other people can't. Think about that
when you're trying to figure them out."


"These books…"


"Are not going anywhere. We don't need them, not right now…not to get in
there and make sure those children are okay. We'll need them eventually, but
Krein came through. He got us the coordinates."


Everything was happening so fast. I had just realized where the last book
was. Marcus didn't try to capture me…it was about family. He wanted Chance. The
Smokescreen was the last puzzle piece…and my brother was on the wrong side, but
might be working with the right side.


It was unfolding too fast and someone was going to end up dead.


"Did Chance tell you who tipped him off?" I asked.


Jace tightened his arms around me and pressed me closer. "No, but that's not
a surprise. I went around him anyway."


I tipped my head back and asked, "What are you talking about?"


"Evans is a little bitter. He's been bitter since Galverson went down and I
got the credit. Evans wants the credit, but the only right thing he did was
offer me a job. I've been going around Chance Evans for quite a few years. I'm
pretty good at it now."


"So who called him?"


Jace studied me for a moment and then shook his head. "I can't tell you that.
I'm sorry."


"Why not?!" My hands fisted in the front of his shirt.


"Because…" Jace hesitated.


"…it's gone farther than sex for me." I heard my words again and I
heard his response, "…if it can be more than sex…that's the question that
should be asked."


"Because," Jace finished. "I don't want you hurt, any more than you've
already been and…I might be wrong."


I heard the inflection in his tone. There was a flicker, just the briefest of
brief, but it was there. It chilled me. I pushed him away, studied him, and saw
the gravity of what he was saying. It reflected in his eyes.


It hurt to breathe, but I said, brokenly, "You know who called him."


He did. I saw it.


Jace said nothing.


"And you know who the Smokescreen is, don't you?"


Jace swallowed tightly and reached for me. I moved away, but he said softly,
"I have a theory, yes, but…I don't know if it's true."


"And it's someone I care about?"


"I know you, Maya. For all the testing and challenges and fights between us—I
know you. You don't let people in, but once they get in—they're in for good.
Yes. You care about this person and…that's why I can't tell you because if I'm
wrong…then it's for the better…"


"I'm not some weak fragile little girl, Jace." I said harshly.


"No…" Jace started.


The door opened.


The rain pounded inside.


And Scott stood frozen in the doorway.


Jace finished, "…you're not."


Scott coughed, "Uh…sorry. I'm interrupting."


"Not really." I said faintly and went into the bathroom. I shut the door. I
heard the soft monotone start up through the door. Jace and Scott were
debriefing. No doubt that Scott was there, ready to prep for leaving, but I
needed to not be a part of that. At least, for now.


Jace would bring me up to date.


I showered. It wasn't a metaphor. It wasn't meant to cleanse me of my
thoughts and recriminations. I just needed to be clean and I needed a door
between myself and Jace. For now.


As I finished and stepped out, I saw my clothes had been placed on the floor.
Jace had put our bag so I wouldn't need to dress in my dirty clothes or walk out
in a towel.


Taryn was right. He did the small thoughtful things, like getting me coffee
and asking if I needed money for food…and placing my forgotten clothes in the
bathroom for me.


I finished dressing, ran a hand through my wet hair, and was welcomed with a
steaming cup of coffee that Jace had placed beside the bed when I entered the
bedroom.


Jace and Scott looked up from where they'd been studying the books.


Scott glanced from me to Jace and went back to the books.


Jace held my gaze, but didn't say anything.


I took the coffee and nodded my thanks silently.


Jace nodded back and turned to the books again.


That's when Scott spoke up, "…so all his agents have been removed. They're
just gone. That's what Starks reported from Rio. He was supposed to follow-up on
that one guy, remember?"


Jace nodded. He looked the epitome of a leader. Authority clung to him and
Scott continued, "So when Glean free-lanced and took us down to Miami, I found
some time and met up with Jillian. She was keeping tabs on that other agent that
Stirley told us about—she said the same thing. Mallon had a team of five agents
in Miami. They were assigned to scan the immigrants, but they're all gone.
Just—vanished, like they never existed."


"He's killing them off?" I asked and moved to the other side of the
table.


"Or he's moving everything." Jace sighed. "That means…they can have different
names than what we might get from the books and…he's changing everything."


"You're right either way." Scott told him. He tapped the table with a finger,
"Something big is going down. He and the Smokescreen are battling each other,
but did we start it or did Mallon just grab the chance when he got it?"


"What do you mean?" I asked and sipped my coffee.


Scott let Jace take point when he said, "I told you before that I think
there's fighting between Marcus and the Smokescreen. I think that's the reason
why Marcus practically gave us the books, but I don't think he intended for that
to happen in the first place. You coming to me…that wasn't Marcus. That was
someone else. But you getting the books—that was Marcus."


"So this is all happening because of me?"


"No. I think Marcus hates the fact that you're on this side, but he's too
smart to not work it to his advantage."


"We thought before that Marcus was competing against Broozer to work with the
Smokescreen. That's why Marcus was upping his territory in New York. New York
used to be Broozer's territory, but now we're thinking that Marcus has decided
to eliminate both Broozer—which, he's already done—and the Smokescreen." Scott
finished.


Jace's eyes were hooded with his head bent downwards. His arms were crossed
over his chest. I knew his wheels were turning, but I couldn't read them. What I
could read was that Scott was clueless to Jace's theory. Jace knew who the
Smokescreen was, but Scott hadn't been clued into that information.


And I didn't know why that was because I'm fairly certain that Jace wasn't
protecting Scott from anything.


Abruptly, Jace spoke up, "We should head out."


"How are we going?" I asked.


Jace turned to pack what little needed to be packed. Scott smiled briefly and
murmured, "We got a private jet. Can you believe it? Bossman, here, was busy in
the last few hours."


I highly doubted that the DEA would fund a jet so I asked, "And where did
that come from?"


Jace waited at the door while Scott left first. I didn't expect an answer, it
was becoming the trend—well, had always been the trend—of our relationship, but
Jace caught my elbow and held me back. He said in my ear, "I found my mom awhile
ago. She's not in my life, neither is Isaiah, but…she married rich and I asked
for a motherly favor."


I was surprised by the information, but was even more shocked when Jace
lifted a hand to the back of my neck, paused, and then kissed my forehead. He
moved me ahead with a hand in the small of my back as he shut the door behind
us.


Scott was behind the wheel of a black Bravado. Jace and I walked beside each
other while Jace kept a hand on my back.


I never knew if I'd admit it to Jace, but I liked the touch.


I felt some small tingles and I was relieved that I could still feel that
way. I also knew that I was stomping down a lot more, but considering the
situation, considering how my world was—I tried to only hope for one thing—that
there might be a better world—but I never hoped for that with myself.


The tingles still felt nice, though. I wasn't going to complain.


Jace sat in the back with me while Scott acted as chauffeur.


I had sat in that motel for six hours alone. I had studied the books, tried
to forget my brother and Jace's wall of silence, but I noticed in a pleasant
surprise that we hadn't been in a motel at all.


It had been a bed and breakfast with our own doorway. It was an old
three-story home. Our room had been towards the back of the home. It was painted
a soft green with arched doorframes and windowframes that were painted yellow. A
pebble walkway led from our door to the parking lot and two gardens hugged the
small walkway with a freshly stained pine pergola above our heads. As Scott
drove around the front of the house, I saw a small pond in the frontyard. I
wondered, briefly, if there were goldfish inside, maybe even lily pads… It
wasn't the world I knew, but it was the world that I wished I could've someday
known.


It was the home that I would've wanted my own child or Gray to run barefoot
around it's frontlawn. I knew that much.


For some reason, I knew that Jace had chosen the bed and breakfast for a
reason. And I knew it hadn't been for his comfort.


His hand rested on the barrier between us with one finger that hung over the
edge. It wasn't an accident that it brushed against mine. As I gazed at the bed
and breakfast, I felt Jace's finger inch and entwine with my pinkie finger.


The river opened before us, on my windowside, and I watched as Scott
drove.


We were in the city, but the bed and breakfast gave us a different feel. It
gave me a different feel, like we were in the country, and we weren't driving to
a private jet—to fly to a secret encampment that housed stolen children.


It felt like we were just taking a Sunday drive and the sun would shine
someday to green lawns that had never felt the black of night.


That's what it felt like to me.


I felt Jace relax beside me, just slightly, and then I looked over to see
that he had fallen asleep. Finally. And his finger was still entwined with
mine.


I looked in the rearview mirror and saw that Scott had been watching us
both.


I didn't say a thing. Neither did he, but I wondered if he was seeing a
different Jace than when he'd last seen us both at Rafe's. I had broken Glean's
finger and Jace had threatened him to save our lives. Everyone else had
instantly readied themselves for Glean's command, but not Scott.


Scott had watched Jace in that moment. He had watched his leader because he
knew that Jace would win in the end. And Scott was loyal to Jace. I knew,
without asking or being told, that there were more where Scott came from.


Jace inspired loyalty. He inspired. That was the truth to him.


He led, he inspired, and he won. If he didn't win—he was going to take
everyone down with him and the person had better be ready for all his followers,
because there were too many that I didn't realize.


I realized that much.


They were the unspoken voices. They were there, they were felt, but they
weren't needed to stand up—not yet.


When Jace needed them, they'd be there, just like Kip and all the Panthers.
They were there when Jace called and in the end, he stood up for them.


Jace let out a breath. He was sleeping—finally. It never ceased to amaze me
how the barriers go down when sleep approaches, but with Jace…the dangerous
quality to him departed and it was just him. He was still handsome, classically
handsome on his own, but when he woke—it was a different matter.


Marcus had the classic handsomeness, but I never realized that Jace adorned
the same beauty—only when he slept.


When he woke, the air sizzled around him.


I wanted him to save Krein. I had confided that sentiment once, but I wanted
him to save my brother's soul. Instead, I wondered if he was going to save
mine.


"It isn't what's going to scare you." Jace said lightly, softly. He
looked up with hollowed eyes and my heart jumped, "It's what you might
sacrifice."


I understood what he meant now because I didn't know if I'd still own my soul
at the end of the quest.


It wasn't just about saving Gray, the children, standing up in the face of
evil, or enacting my revenge to those who dared to assign me the role of
'pawn.'


It was about our souls.


Mine.


Jace's.


Krein.


And it was about doing one thing, just one thing, that might bring about a
better world because mine really sucked.