Defending myself against Lia when she was trying to kill me was one thing. Deliberately going out of my way to try to hurt Cole for no reason is something else entirely. I’m pretty sure Cole is going to think so, too.
“Has he said anything?” I ask after I give myself a chance to wallow in the relief that I didn’t do any permanent damage. “I mean, he has to know that I’m the one who attacked him, right?”
“His story is he doesn’t know who attacked him,” my uncle answers. “Which may or may not be true.”
“It’s a bunch of bullshit,” Jaxon says flatly.
“We don’t know that,” Uncle Finn admonishes. “And if he doesn’t know it was Grace who attacked him, I’m not about to spread the word. At least not until we figure out what’s happening to her.”
“He knows,” Jaxon says. “He just doesn’t want to say, because then he’d have to admit to the whole school that he got beaten up by a girl.”
“Hey!” I give Jaxon a grumpy face.
“His thinking, not mine,” Jaxon clarifies, dropping a kiss on the top of my head. “I saw what you did to Lia—and Hudson. No way would I want to mess with you. But Cole doesn’t think like that. He can’t.
“Because if the alpha werewolf admits to getting the crap kicked out of him by anyone while he was conscious, then he might as well hang it up. He’ll spend the next month fighting off every werewolf in the pack who thinks they have a shot at alpha status.” Jaxon glances at my uncle. “Right, Foster?”
Uncle Finn nods reluctantly. “Pretty much, yeah. After what happened with Jaxon in November…he has to be very careful how he plays this.”
“Which means you’ve got to be careful, too, Grace.” Macy speaks up for the first time in several minutes. “Because if he knows you’re the one who did this…the one who has threatened everything he’s been working for, he’s going to come after you. He won’t do it blatantly, because Jaxon would gut him, but he will find a way. That’s who he is.”
“A coward.” Jaxon sneers.
Uncle Finn holds my gaze. “But that only makes him more dangerous, Grace. Because he’s not me. He’s sly and crafty, and he knows how to bide his time. I would talk to him, but if I do that, he’ll know that you must have told me what happened. And then he’ll be wondering who else knows. And how long it will be before everything blows up in his face.”
“You really think he’ll try something?” I ask, my gaze darting between Jaxon and my uncle.
“Not if he’s half as bright as Foster’s giving him credit for,” Jaxon tells me. But the look in his eyes says something different.
“Oh, he’ll definitely try something,” Uncle Finn tells me. “The only question is when.”
I don’t know what to say to that, don’t even know what I’m supposed to feel. Except tired. So tired.
I barely made it through the last homicidal maniac who was gunning for me, and now, here comes another. I mean, yeah, I obviously did something to provoke this one, but that doesn’t make any sense to me, either. Why would my gargoyle try to murder Cole when I have no reason to do so? I mean, I’ve let what happened last semester go. Or at least I thought I had. This whole thing is scary as hell.
When is this new life of mine going to feel normal? When is it going to feel less like the Hunger Games and more like high school? My wrist starts hurting, and I reach down to rub it, only to realize I’m rubbing the scars from Lia’s bindings. And that Jaxon, Macy, and my uncle can see exactly what I’m doing.
I drop my hand, but it’s too late. Jaxon wraps his arms around me from behind and rests his hands on mine, his thumb gently stroking my wrist.
“He’s already proven he’s willing to kill to get his way,” Macy says after an awkward pause that makes me feel even worse. “And that was before his reputation was on the line. Now that he stands to lose the only thing that matters to him? Yeah, he’ll try something. We just have to be ready for it.”
“We will be ready for it,” Jaxon tells me, his midnight-sky eyes never leaving mine. “If he actually comes after you, I’ll—”
“Let me handle it,” my uncle interrupts. “I gave him another chance after everything that happened with you because of extenuating circumstances. But if he tries anything else, he’s gone.”
“What about me?” I finally ask my uncle when I can actually think past the throbbing in my head.