When a wagon loaded with supplies rolled in, Jack called orders to soldiers. A few offloaded pallets of cans. Another group went around to lift a large gun off the back.
Jack dismounted, moving stiffly. He unstrapped a bulky camo duffel bag from his saddle, hauling it over his body. Men gathered around him, asking questions. Despite his younger age, they hung on his every word.
His unforgiving life had honed him, giving him hard-earned skills, but he’d never had a chance to utilize them to this degree.
It’d taken an apocalypse for Jack to come into his own as a leader.
He paused midsentence, then turned in my direction, as if he sensed me there.
I stepped from the shadows, and our eyes met, his so vivid and gray. His gaze roamed over my face and figure the way it had on our first day of school together, like he hadn’t seen a girl in years.
Never taking his focus off me, he said something that made the other men nod and set off; then he crossed the distance between us.
Without a word, he clasped my hand, leading me to his tent. How would I approach this talk? I needed to tell him about Aric, but now wasn’t the right time.
The tent seemed so much smaller with him in it, because Jack was larger than life. He pulled off that duffel bag, setting aside his bow.
We stood staring at each other in silence. At length, he moved to stand before me. “Didn’t think you could get prettier.” Curling his finger under my chin, he leaned down to kiss me.
I was stunned, motionless. I’d pictured our reunion, but I’d never imagined him just walking up and kissing me. A thrill cascaded through me.
God, I’d missed the feel of his lips. I gasped with pleasure.
But right when my hands decided to reach for him, my feet stepped me back. “Um, how are you feeling?”
He was clearly disappointed by my reaction. What else had he expected? The problems between us hadn’t magically fixed themselves. “You know me: tête dure.” Hard head. “I was more worried about you.”
“I’m fine. You know me: regeneration.”
By the way he removed his coat, you’d never know the extent of his injuries. But that muscle ticked in his jaw. His tell. He wore a shoulder holster with two pistols, unstrapping that as well.
“When did you start carrying guns?”
“When I started goan up against firepower.” He dragged his flask out of a pocket and took a pull.
I sat on Matthew’s cot, as stiffly as he had before. “So you, Joules, and Gabriel took over the army?”
“Ouais. I wanted you and Selena there to give you credit, but she’s off somewhere, and you shooed me away when I tried to wake you earlier.” I had? “Didn’t want to leave you, but I needed to make sure those filles were being treated right.”
Of course he would. I’d never known any man who hated violence against women so much.
“When folks see Arcana like Joules and Gabriel, they tend to step in line.” He stoked the fire. “I’m not above using that to achieve some order around here.”
He sat across from me, elbows on his knees, flask at the ready. His thick black hair tumbled over his forehead, and tousles jutted above his ears.
I’d once threaded my fingers through his hair, drawing him down to me. “When did you decide to go public with our kind?” He now had seven of us here, an Arcana Justice League.
He took another swig. “I remembered that in the Basin everybody told themselves stories. We’d tell ourselves we could tolerate living there because we had our friends and family with us. Or that we were tied to those lands by our history. I started thinking folks needed new stories, and I just happened to have a kid with me who can make illusions and a girl whose skin glows.” He shrugged, then seemed to regret the movement. “We’ve been giving people a new story to tell.”
Though the sentiment was heartening, I was still surprised by his involvement. “In the past you didn’t concern yourself with others. You called serving your fellow man bullshit. You said live people were the worst kind.”
“I hadn’t met many solid characters then. Over these months, I have.”
“You never went looking for trouble. Sound familiar? This is a heaping ton of trouble.”
“Dis-moi quelque chose que j’connaîs pas.” Tell me something I don’t know. “But I’ve realized some things.”
“Like what?”
“We might be goan extinct, Evie. As in, our species is goan to lose this one. And yet Milovníci is the only one mobilizing folks? Somebody’s got to stand up to him. For some reason, it’s fallen to me.” Another swig.
“You’re drinking again. I thought you quit.”
He’d started so young. “Had to be sharp to get back to you. To fight your enemies.” A shadow crossed his expression. “But after a while, you didn’t want me to.”
I couldn’t deny that. “And now?”
In a low tone, he said, “Drinking helps with the pain.” I knew he meant anguish. His tolerance for physical pain was off the charts. “I didn’t expect you to come, Evie.”
“Of course I would.” In a softer voice, I said, “Will you please tell me what happened to you? To Clotile?”
He faced me with such a tormented look that I shivered. “I’ll never tell you. Jamais.”
“Jack, I have to know.”
“I felt the same way. Now? I wish to Christ I didn’t know.” His flask shook in his hand. “I wish I could’ve killed those two myself—making it last.”
“Your friend was with you. I’m so sorry.”
Brows drawn tight, he said, “You ever order yourself not to think about something? With my podna . . .” Jack’s breaths whistled like a weight pressed down on his chest. “I’m hanging on by a thread here, Evangeline.”
Oh, Jack. My gaze dipped to the edge of his bandage. There was no way I could tell him about Aric. Not right now. I refused to snip that thread.
Jack pulled up his shirt to conceal the bandage. Embarrassed? In front of me? “I’ll have this forever, non?” He lifted his chin. “That’s what the doc said.”
“You survived Vincent and Violet. Which is all that matters.”
“You nearly didn’t. Selena told me you fought off the High Priestess too.”
I nodded.