The Burning Claw (The Grey Wolves #10)(21)

“It must be killing him,” Jacque said quietly, “to know she’s alive, but not know where she is, or if she’s okay?”“Yeah, Dec would have burned down the globe by now,” Jen admitted. “And Fane, well we all know how cray-cray Fane gets over you, so Costin is doing remarkably well.”
“What’s being done to look for Sally? Do we have any leads? Anything left behind that could explain who took her and why? Do we know—”
“Whoa, slow your roll, Red,” Jen said as she held up a hand. “We aren’t just sitting on our thumbs, spinning around like idiots looking for cheap kicks. We are totally on this.”
“I didn’t think you were looking for cheap tricks.”
“Kicks.”
“Whatever,” Jacque snapped. “The point is, I know you’ve been working on it. If anyone is the epitome of tenacity, it’s you. I just want in. I want to help. What can I do?”
“Um, well, you can be a mom first. Sally wouldn’t want you to miss any of this time with Slate. You know that. She’d want you to be cooing like an idiot and elbow deep in poopy diapers. So, do that. And then during naps, you can nap.”
Jacque wanted to pull every last strand of Jen’s hair out of her pretty little head, one by one. “That won’t be helping find Sally,” she ground out through her clenched teeth.
“You don’t need to worry about it right now. You are just back from the dead. Wadim is doing his thing, searching through ancient crap. Peri is doing her thing, annoying and threatening other supes to get information from them. Vasile is, well, doing whatever the hell it is Vasile does, and Dec and I are bugging all of them to keep going. It’s all under control. We. Got. This.”
“But, it’s Sally,” Jacque said lamely. “It’s our Sally, Jen.”
Jen reached over and took Jacque’s hand in her own. “I know. And we’ve taught her well. She’s tough and smart and levelheaded. She can take care of herself.” Jacque could tell that those were words Jen had been saying to herself over and over in an attempt to get herself to believe them. She wondered if it was working.
There was a knock on the door to their suite and Decebel walked in, a very depressed looking Costin following close behind him.
“You still haven’t learned the concept of knock and wait,” Jen huffed as she gave her mate the stink eye.
“Still don’t care,” he shot back.
“Costin.” Jacque stood ignoring the bickering couple and went to her best friend’s mate. She gave him a quick, brief hug because she knew it wasn’t her arms that he wanted around him.
“I really am glad that you and Fane are alright,” Costin told her, a tired smile appearing on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Sally would have been devastated if something had happened to either of you.” 
The torment that filled his voice as he spoke her name was such that Jacque’s eyes teared up. She knew how hard it was for her to hear that Sally was missing. For Costin it would be a hundred times worse.
“We will find her,” Jacque told him with as much conviction as she could muster. “We won’t stop looking until we do.” He didn’t look near as comforted as Jacque was hoping, but she knew the males of their species. They lived and breathed the need to protect their mates. She’d bet anything that Costin was blaming himself for not being there with Sally at the time she disappeared. Yes, he was blaming himself but he was wrong. The blame only lay with the person or persons responsible. But who that was, she didn’t know.
“Someone woke up hungry.” Fane emerged from their bedroom with their squawking son.
Titus jumped to his feet, his bright eyes eager to see the little bundle. He watched in awe as Fane carried Slate over to Jacque and placed him in her arms. Jacque knelt down so that Titus could get a better look.
“He sure seems mad,” Titus said as he reached out and gently patted Slate’s flailing hand. “Maybe I can see him more after he’s eaten? I get grumpy sometimes too when I’m hungry.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Jacque told him. She watched as Costin took Titus’ hand and led him back to the little play area. Costin hugged him and spoke softly to his son. Titus was nodding his head and patting Costin on the shoulder. It was tough to watch, to see a child be the one offering the comfort to a parent.
Jacque turned, giving them their privacy and headed for the bedroom. She sat in the rocking chair her mother-in-law had given her and gazed down at the miracle in her arms. Jacque was thankful that, despite her brush with death, her body still knew it had a baby to provide for and her milk had come in. Jen had told her that nursing your child was an experience every mom should have at least once and she’d been right. There was something incredibly bonding at being the one who provides for the little life you carried for nine months. There’s a connection made that just doesn’t happen when using a bottle. Slate had taken to nursing with no problems, and so they’d decided to only use the bottles when Jacque couldn’t be there for him.
“Don’t just stand there like a creeper and stare,” Jacque said without taking her eyes off of her son.
Her mate chuckled as he stepped further into the room. “You are getting good at using your superior senses,” he said, pride dripping from his voice.
“That or you’re just a loud breather.”
“I’m always a loud breather when you are close by, Luna.”
Jacque made a noise somewhere between a gag and a retch because of the syrupy-sweet comment, and then they were both quiet for a while, both mesmerized by their little wolf. Jacque thought she’d be self-conscious, breastfeeding in front of Fane, but she wasn’t—not even when he stared at her like a creeper.
“You’re doing it again.”
“Do you have any idea how it feels to see your mate feeding the child you created together?” he asked and then pushed those exact feelings through the bond.
The emotions hit Jacque like a freight train and she found herself bracing her shoulders back against the rocking chair and holding Slate closer.
“There are no words to express how amazing it is. So all I can do is stare in awe at the picture before me that I never expected to have. Any one of our unmated males would give away body parts to have what we have.”
Jacque’s heart swelled in her chest. She could feel everything her mate felt and his words were sincere and from his own heart. If the man was going to say things like that, he could stare all he wanted, she thought wryly.They sat in companionable silence until he was finished and Jacque laid him in his bassinet. Then she turned to Fane and crossed her arms in front of her. “What is it you need to tell me?” She felt the information burning a hole in his head and it was time he spilled it.
Fane filled her in on everything Jen had told him while she’d been with Slate. She was impressed at Fane’s ability to decipher the jumbled, shortened mess of Jen’s explanations.
“So Bethany and Drake are doing alright and he hasn’t killed anyone so far. There’s a new chick named Zara who’s been hanging with Alina, learning the ropes, and Thia has learned to do raspberries with her tongue and lips. Did I get it all?”
“That pretty much sums it up,” Fane agreed.
“So what do we do now?” Jacque asked him, already knowing she wasn’t going to like his answer.
“We wait.”
“Waiting sucks.”
“You’ve said that before.”
She shrugged. “Still true.”
Chapter 7
“Everything feels so right. But it also feels so very, very wrong. I don’t know which of my warring emotions to believe. I feel as though my very soul is being split in half and it’s scaring me. I’m terrified that I’m missing something—something important—something so important that could hold the key to what’s going on inside of me. But I don’t have time to think. I agreed to this relationship and now Jericho and I spend every waking moment together. I stay lost because I don’t have time to stop and figure out where I’m at.” ~Sally
One week had passed since Sally was kissed so thoroughly that she’d been sure he’d taken her tongue with him when he finished. There had been many toe curling kisses since then, but it had always stopped there. Because of their busy work schedule, due to the loss of several employees at the bar, Jericho and Sally hadn’t really had much time together. If they weren’t working, they were sleeping.
As he walked behind her and smacked her backside for the fifteenth time that night—she’d been counting—Sally decided it was a good thing they hadn’t been alone. Jericho seemed especially touchy that day.
“How you holding up, Beautiful?” he asked her when they finally had a lull.
Jericho rested his hands on the bar on either side of Sally and looked down at her with his playful smirk. “I’m good,” Sally managed to spit out. He affected her; there was no getting around that. He was hot, sexy, and confident. What woman wouldn’t be affected?
“Oh believe me, I know just how good you are,” he teased. “But has tonight been okay? No one’s been giving you a hard time?” 
He’d gotten even more protective and possessive with each passing day, but she didn’t feel as though he was trying to control her. He seemed to genuinely find anyone and everyone a possible threat to her safety. It was kind of endearing, in a weird, overbearing, creepy, stalker sort of way.