He released her and stepped back, shoving his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. “I’ve never lied to you.”
Her mouth gaped open. “You haven’t lied to me? You’ve been part of the Defenders for over a decade.”
“True,” he allowed. “But I never lied to you. I just didn’t tell you everything.” He tilted his head. “Though I guess that could be considered lying.”
That was one thing about Paxton. He always saw both sides in the search for fairness.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her heart still aching. “I thought we told each other everything.”
His gaze dropped and then returned to hers, meeting it squarely. “I thought they were right. Still do. The ritual should not happen, and I won’t risk your life.” He sighed. “Also, my uncle took me in, gave me a dog, and was kind to me. I care about him, and I wanted to be loyal. It didn’t mean I wasn’t loyal to you.”
“It feels like it,” she said, her gaze searching. Even angry with him, even hurt, she looked to him for comfort. She always had, and it was a difficult habit to break.
His gaze softened. “I know, and for that, I’m sorry. You have to know that everything I’ve ever done was with the idea of protecting you, even if it doesn’t seem like it, and even if I totally screwed up. I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you.”
He was so earnest and so honest that her heart just rolled over. She knew Paxton would never hurt anybody on purpose, or at least nobody he cared about. “In doing our deep dive into the Defenders’ records,” she said, going slowly, “we discovered that the group plotted to kill my uncle Sam years ago.”
Sam was supposedly the Keeper of the Circle, which meant that he had to find the location where the final ritual was to take place. It irritated the ever-living heck out of him because he didn’t want any part of the ritual and didn’t want to be the keeper of anything. Yet he’d do his duty.
“Paxton,” she prodded.
He nodded. “Yes, I argued against it, but the Defenders, once I was out of the room, took a vote on whether or not to assassinate Sam.” He looked at the comfortable lodge as if he didn’t see it. “To be honest, I almost wish they had voted yes.”
Her head jerked back in shock. “You wanted them to kill Sam?”
“No, I wanted them to vote yes to kill Sam.” He shook his head. “I would never have let that happen. So at that point, I would’ve been forced to defy them and either get myself killed or at least be able to warn Sam or your father. Instead, they listened to me and voted not to kill him. I wasn’t as good at strategy then as I am now.”
Well, of course not. He’d been just a kid.
“I’m glad they voted no,” she said. “And I’m glad you’re not dead.” She chewed the inside of her lip and huddled into her coat. “I don’t know, Paxton. I’m still pretty mad at you, and I think you could be wrong about the ritual.”
She had learned that nothing came without a price. What price must be paid for destroying Ulric? Why did they have to kill him? Sure, he was evil and he deserved to die, but did he have to? Could they not…？ Her mind started to hurt, so she shut it down. She knew they couldn’t lock him away in any prison here on earth. It would be impossible to contain him, and she also knew that there was no way they’d be able to create another prison world. “I’ve thought through all the possibilities, and Ulric has to die, even though we don’t understand the ritual yet.”
Paxton’s expression didn’t alter. “I felt you create a dreamworld last night,” he said. “I’ve always been able to sense when you were doing that.” She knew that was true. “I would’ve tried to get to you, but there were more snipers covering your home last night than ever before. Why didn’t you bring me in?”
“I didn’t need you.”
He jolted. “You always need me.”
“No, I don’t. Haven’t needed you for years,” she lied.
The door opened, and Dage Kayrs stepped onto the snowy deck. “Paxton,” Dage drawled, his gaze dropping to their joined hands. “I suggest you release her before I take off your arm.”
Shockingly, Pax didn’t so much as twitch. Instead, he cocked his head to the side and stared at the king. “We’re in the middle of something, King. Give us a minute.”
Hope’s breath quickened, and she hurriedly jerked her hand away. The last thing she wanted was for Dage to kill Paxton right outside the lodge with all the Christmas decorations proclaiming it a merry place.
There was no doubt Paxton could fight, and he’d probably even do some damage to Dage, but the king was hundreds of years old, plus…he was the king.
Irritation and something else glowed in Dage’s silver eyes. Admiration? Respect? Yeah, it was there. Oh, he was pissed. There was no doubt about it, but he was looking at Paxton as if he’d never seen him before. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
“To the lab,” Hope said, grabbing Pax’s hand again and all but dragging him up the stairs and past Dage to the interior. “We both want to have more blood taken. We have to figure out what this drug is. I don’t feel so great.”
Instantly, Dage turned all business. “All right, let’s go.”
As he led the way down to the lab, Hope was unsurprised to see fierce-looking armed soldiers along the way. Paxton loped easily beside her, not seeming bothered by the fact that every one of them wanted to put a bullet between his eyes. Her heart hurt, but she couldn’t find a solution to their problems.
Emma was already waiting for them in the lab. No doubt somebody had signaled they were coming. She also looked tired, and her dark hair had escaped its clip to fall around her face. Her lab coat had what appeared to be coffee stains on the left sleeve. “You two want to give more blood?”
“Yes,” Hope said just as Paxton said, “No.”
“But we will,” he added. “We need to know what they shot into us—I’m concerned.” He flicked his gaze to Hope and then back.
Emma nodded. “As am I. I haven’t identified that ingredient yet. Let’s see if the drug is still in your systems.” She drew blood from both of them and directed them to the waiting room outside her main lab. “You two go rest on one of those comfy sofas and try not to get shot. I’ll need a few minutes.”
Pax brushed Emma’s arm once. “Thanks, Queen.” He slid an arm around Hope’s shoulders. “Come on, Hope.” He led her into a waiting room where plush leather seats awaited. A TV was already droning on about Christmas sales.
Unsurprisingly, Dage leaned against a far wall near several of his soldiers.
Pax pulled Hope down to sit next to him on a sofa. It felt right to be next to him, even though they were so disconnected right now. “What did Drake want last night?” he asked without preamble.
She jolted. “He wants to meet me in person.”
Across the room, one of Dage’s dark eyebrows slowly rose.
“I think it’s a good idea,” she said.
“Hell no,” Paxton and Dage said at the same time.