Chapter 7

A knock on her door had Jo pulling her head out of the past and back to the reality of her cruddy Denver apartment. Zane had sounded groggy on the phone, like maybe he had actually been sleeping for once, a rarity. Or maybe it was just that smolder he had about him amplified by her desperation to speak to someone she trusted. Either way, when she opened the door and saw him standing there, his brown hair falling over his eyes, one hand stretched behind his head, showing the ripple in his bicep, all the feelings she thought she’d sent packing months ago came roaring back in one heated hormonal ball that settled in her pelvis like a grenade without a pin.

“Hey,” he said, dropping his hand and sticking it in the pocket of his worn jeans. “You okay?”

“Peachy,” Jo replied, leaving the door open for him and returning to her couch. A cloud of dust enveloped her as she plopped down on it. Zane closed the door and crossed the room waving a hand in front of him like that would somehow make the smoke clear.

He sat down beside her more gently so that not as much of the filth entrapped in the ancient fabric filled their lungs. There was a space between them, too much space, in Jo’s view, but she tried to concentrate on what she wanted to tell him, not what she wanted to do with him--to him.

His brown eyes studied her face for a second before his husky whisper of a voice inquired, “You have a visitor?”

“How’d you know?” She slumped deeper into the couch, folding her hands across her abdomen, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

With a shrug, Zane leaned back next to her. “I can’t imagine what else would make you call me in the middle of the night. Unless you got locked up again. Or… you were looking for something else.” She shifted her eyebrows, and a crooked grin broke out across his handsome face. “Doesn’t seem like you’re in the mood for that. Right now.”

The fact that she wasn’t completely transparent would’ve made her sigh in relief if she wasn’t so upset about what had transpired earlier. “My family showed up. My brother, Elliott, Brandon, and Cass.”

“Whoa. All of them?” he asked, his mouth turning down as his jaw dropped slightly. “Must’ve been important.”

She nodded her head. “They seemed to think so.” Zane had never met any of her family, but her aunt and two uncles were legendary among their kind, and of course Zane was aware she had a twin brother.

“You disagree?” he asked, his warm breath a bit too close to her cheek for her liking if she were to keep up the illusion that her thoughts hadn’t shifted to that other reason she may have called him.

It was a difficult question. Jo ran her hand through her hair, snatching up the end of one of her braids and running it through her fingers as she thought. “I don’t know,” she admitted for the first time. “It could be important, I guess. But… I told them I was done with all that years ago. Last time Dad tried to drag me back in…. It wasn’t pretty.”

“I recall.” Zane hadn’t been there that night when she’d told her father off with words she would’ve been mortified for him to hear her say only a few years earlier, but Zane had been here when she got back, been the shoulder she cried on, the arms that held her in the night. “You wanna tell me what they want?”

She cleared her throat, not sure where to start or how to say it or explain it in a way that was logical. After a moment of mulling it around, she finally said, “My dad’s back, at least temporarily. And so is Holland.”

His jaw actually dropped open with that, and she stared at him for a second before looking away, her head rocking back and forth. “No shit?” he asked.

“No shit.”

“How the hell do you know that? Did your dad see her?”

“Yeah. Somewhere in Russia.”

“Huh.” Zane turned so his back was against the sofa now, and he was staring off in the same direction she’d spent most of the last hour studying. Just having his shoulder bumped up against hers was the sort of distraction Jo could see herself falling into. “Well… what do they want you to do? Go get her?”

Jo nodded, turning her head to meet his eyes. “They’re putting a team together. Want to bring her in alive.”

His head tipped to the side. “Why? Torture her just for the hell of it?” He smirked, and she knew it was meant to get a laugh out of her, but the true answer to his question was preventing her from finding any sort of humor in the situation.

Jo let out a sigh and then tried to answer his question in a complete sentence without letting those damn tears creep back into the situation. “They… uh… think she might know something about my mom. What happened to her that night.”

Confusion washed over him again as his forehead puckered. “Why would they think that? Wasn’t she in the Blood Moon Portal?”

“Hell if I know.” Jo looked away, both hands scraping through her hair, nails scratching her scalp. “There’s no convincing them otherwise.”

“They think she can solve the mystery that’s been eating away at you for all these years?” His voice was soft, tender almost, and he was leaning in a little too closely for Jo’s comfort. The scent of his familiar aftershave burned her lungs in a way that made her feel almost as alive as the smoky stench from Vampire ash.

“They think she might know something.” She turned to look at him. “But I don’t.”

“I know. I know what you think, Jo.” He reached out and dragged his palm along her cheek, his thumb caressing as he slid his hand down and wrapped his fingers around her hand.

Glad she wouldn’t have to say it again to make him understand, she sucked in a staggered breath, feeling briny tears in the back of her eyes. “What… what do you think I should do?”

“Why are you even questioning that, Jo? You know what you have to do.”

“But I….” She dropped her eyes, the tears spilling over now. She couldn’t look at him and cry, not again. He’d seen through her impenetrable exterior years ago, but she’d thought she’d moved on to a different place now, not a better one, but a different one, one where soft emotions were buried under enough layers of indifference it would take archaeologists years to dig down that deep and extract her true feelings.

Somehow she managed to pull in enough air to look at him again and say, “What if he doesn’t forgive me?”

“Jo, the fact that he sent your family to find you tells me he already has.”

A blur of tears completely clouded her vision, and Zane pulled her close, holding her against his chest as she pressed her eyes against his neck, willing the memories to stop flooding her mind, willing the tears to dry up, trying to find that shell and pull it back over her head. His arms around her, the soothing rhythm of his hand stroking her back, the sound of his breath drawing in, and out and his heart beating beneath her, lulled Jo back into command of her emotions. It took several minutes, but eventually, she was able to look him in the eyes, knowing what she needed to do. “Thank you.”

“You bet.” The crooked half-smile that had gotten her the second she’d laid eyes on him on a mutual hunt several years ago, back when she’d first moved to Colorado, had her in his tractor beam again, and Jo was putty in his hands, if he wanted her.

Zane kissed the top of her head and pulled himself up off of the couch, sucking all of the warmth and comfort away from her as he sauntered toward the door.

“You’re leaving?” she asked, stating the obvious and standing next to the sofa, not sure if she should chase after him or pretend she didn’t care.

“Yeah.” He had one hand on the door, looking back at her over his shoulder. “What time are they leaving?”

“Eight. From the Best Western on 270.” He nodded, and she expected him to say something like, “Have a nice trip,” or “Good luck,” but he didn’t say anything, just stared at her. “So… you’re just gonna walk away?”

“Yep.” The word stabbed her in the heart in a way she couldn’t quite put into words until that crooked grin was back. “Gotta go pack my bags.”