Trinity had come from. “And you’re gonna go that way.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
She gaped at him, her eyes wide with shock , and he knew that she now realized he was afraid of her.
“Such self-control you have, Shandor,” she said smartly. “I’m impressed. Most of your kind still come snapping and snarling, even after they’ve seen what I can do.”
He forced a grin. “I’ve never played by the rules, fată.” Which may have been true, but even so, he needed to get out of here before he attacked her and ended up dead.
Refusing to breathe through his nose, he turned to go, stopping when he heard her yell.
“Wait!”
He closed his eyes and took a breath before turning around and refocusing on her. “What? You want a hug? Maybe a fuck for the road?”
She ignored that. “When did this happen to you?”
Shandor’s jaw clenched. He knew what was coming next and he didn’t want to have to tell her. Fuck, he didn’t want to have to think about it because he didn’t want it to be true. “The raid,” he bit out.
Fear squeezed Trinity’s features and he felt his stomach churn with sympathy.
“Xan?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Is he…okay?”
Fuck. So, Xan hadn’t made it back.
“The last time I saw him,” he said quietly, “frate was still an omnivore.”
Trinity blew out a relieved breath, leading him to believe that maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe nothing had happened to his clan but instead had only happened to Trinity. And Gerik? But he couldn’t dwell on it; he had to keep telling himself that it didn’t matter anymore.
“You and me, fată,” he said quietly, “we’re not so different, you know? We’ve both been dealt a shitty hand, and we’re just trying to make it work in any way we can.”
He watched as her black eyes bled to green once again, and in them, he saw the gathering moisture.
“Do me a favor,” Shandor said, choking back his own rising emotion. “Try not to judge so harshly that which you don’t understand.”
She watched him for several heartbreaking moments before whispering, “Okay.”
Okay. Yeah, it was time for him to leave. The last thing he wanted to do was cry in front of Trinity.
He took a crouching step and then paused. “If you find him again,” he said, “tell him…remind him of the Fat Tuesday twins.”
Her brow lifted. “The Fat Tuesday twins?”
This time, his grin was sincere. “Yeah, baby,” he said, his tone crude . “I’ll let him tell you all about it.” This time, before she could delay him again, he took off running, leaping from car to car in order to get as far away from Trinity as fast as he could.
Shandor couldn’t go back. He knew that. He could never go back.
But even knowing that didn’t stop a lifetime of memories from flooding him—of family and friends, of his clan. Nor did it help ease the ache inside him.
Chapter Four
Shivering, Hockey stepped over the sleeping bodies of his companions, looking for a big enough slice of floor to lie down on and get some shut-eye. Wedging between Mira and Tyler, he wrapped his woolen blankets tightly around himself and closed his eyes.
“Hey,” Mira whispered.
His eyes opened.
“It’s extra cold tonight,” she said through chattering teeth. “Winter’s coming quickly. You wanna double up?”
He did. He wanted to triple up, quadruple up even. The warehouse they’d barricaded themselves inside, in preparation for the fast-coming winter, retained heat about as well as a drafty shed. Even with several fires burning inside strategically placed garbage bins, it was still far too cold for comfort. But he wasn’t a social person, even after spending months alongside the people who’d saved his life; he still felt so far removed from them. Yet he owed them his life and Hockey always repaid his debts.
After the botched raid, he’d wandered for weeks—sleeping with one eye open as he searched for his clan, hot-wiring cars and using them