Shift Page 74

“Marc…” I said, and his gaze flicked my way. He took in the soaked towel I clutched to my chest in spite of the pain in my left arm, and the darkness in his expression swelled until I could almost see the edges of it emanating from him like an inverse glow.

“Start talking, Faythe,” he growled from the doorway.

Jace bristled. “Leave her alone. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

Marc dropped my shirt and his fist slammed into Jace’s jaw before the material hit the floor. Jace stumbled backward into the counter, and his phone slid into the sink.

“Stop!” Water sloshed around me as I tried to push myself up with my left hand. But the pain was too much, and I dropped into the bath. More water splashed onto the floor.

Marc marched past Jace, anger roaring like flames in his eyes, and reached down for me.

“Don’t touch her!” Jace rubbed his jaw, his brows drawn low, and took a deliberate step toward us. His snarl was a perfect bookend to Marc’s. “You will not lay a hand on her until you calm down.”

Marc froze. Then he straightened slowly and met Jace’s gaze, looking both surprised and furious. “I would never hurt her. You know that.” He reached down again to help me up, and Jace growled.

The warning was too authentic to have come from a human throat. Startled, I glanced at Jace and realized that his eyes and canines—and evidently some part of his throat—had Shifted.

Oh, shit. I could practically taste his bloodlust, likely triggered by both Marc’s violence and Jace’s own overwhelming need to protect me. Until we calmed him down, he would be looking for a reason to attack Marc.

“Stand down, Jace,” Marc ordered. He kept his voice even and his hands within sight. With Jace so close to losing control—and with his teeth already Shifted—he held an obvious and dangerous advantage. If he attacked, Marc would defend himself, and there would be blood on both sides.

“Jace…” I said softly, and his cat-eyed gaze flicked my way. “Rein it in. He’s just going to help me up. I need help.”

“If his hand so much as twitches around your arm,” Jace growled, “I’ll kill him.”

Fuck. The first lick of true panic made every hair on my body stand on end.

Marc’s eyes went wide even as his brows dipped in confusion. He turned slowly to look at me—because sudden movements were a very bad idea. “Faythe…?”

But I couldn’t look away from Jace. Not until I’d talked him down. “No. Jace, you have to pull it back. I know you’re trying to protect me, but that’s not what I need right now. What I need is help getting out of the tub. Please. Pull it in. Shift now.”

Jace glanced from me to Marc, and his focus stuck there, though he still spoke to me. “Not until he moves away.”

Damn it! “Jace, listen to me. Marc’s not going to hurt me. He’s going to help me stand. I want you to reverse your Shift. Now.”

Uncertainty flickered across Jace’s expression. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” I nodded to punctuate my certainty. He took a deep breath, then closed his eyes—a huge show of trust on his part. Marc and I didn’t move. A minute later, Jace opened his eyes, and they were human again, as were his teeth. “Thank you.” I was proud of how calm I sounded.

The toms eyed each other warily. In the past three minutes, everything had changed between them. Jace had never stood against Marc before. Marc had never considered him a serious threat before. All that was different now, and I understood in some deep, dark part of me that there was no going back from this point. We were changed for good, the three of us.

“I’m going to help her up,” Marc said, explaining himself to Jace as he would never have done before.

Jace made no reply, nor any move to stand down, but his gaze flicked to mine, his brows raised in question. I nodded and he scowled, but stepped back.

Marc exhaled slowly, obviously trying not to look too relieved. He bent to lift me, careful of the talon-shaped bruises on my arms. His eyes were full of questions, but I could only blink in reply. I had no idea what to say.

Humiliated by my own dependence and vulnerability, I flushed as I held my arms up so Marc could wrap a dry towel around me. Then I let him help me from the tub, where the water had grown cold again. He knelt to pull the plug, wariness still obvious in his every motion. “Okay. Everybody ready to discuss this rationally?”

Jace remained silent, his fists clenched at his sides, so I answered for us both. “Yes. But can we do it while you work on my arm? We don’t have a lot of time.”

Marc’s eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

I sighed and looked over his shoulder at Jace. “Could you give us a few minutes? Maybe find a vending machine? I could really use some caffeine.”

“I got Cokes,” Marc said, ever helpful.

I ignored him. “Some ice, then? Please?”

Jace’s normally cobalt eyes darkened almost to midnight. “You want me to leave you alone with him?”

“Why shouldn’t you?” Marc bristled, and his voice took on a dangerous edge.

“Because you came in here throwing punches.”

“At you, not at her.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m choking on testosterone here, boys.” I was also freezing. “Marc’s fine now. Right?” I eyed him expectantly, and he nodded.

“But he might not be in a minute,” Jace insisted, eyeing me intently. I got the message: this was as good a time as any to make our confession and get everything out in the open.

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