The members of the press laughed and turned away from him, but Parker kept watching him and he smiled. It was the smile not unlike that of a kid who liked to pull wings off flies and set up magnifying glasses on anthills in the sun.
"Belle was a waitress at The Greasy Lamb, is that right?" The man yelled above the din. "Did you hear it burned down a few days ago? Killed everyone inside."
Belle was obviously stricken and Parker decided enough was enough. "What's your horse in this race? Why would you come to our wedding, the happiest day of our lives, and share news of such a tragedy unless you were trying to hurt my wife?"
He just smiled again, and turned to walk away.
Blake nodded to security who immediately flanked him.
Belle put her hand to her mouth. "Oh my god," she whispered.
"Shh," Blake said, both to comfort her and obviously to keep her from saying anything else the mics could pick up.
"If you'll excuse us," Parker took her hand and led her back inside the staging room, away from the press. He knew his brother could handle it from there.
"It's my fault," she said, once they were inside.
"No, it's not your fault. Not unless you're the one who lit the match."
"I may as well have."
"No." He tilted her chin so she would look up at him. He wanted her to see the truth in his eyes. "You are only responsible for your own actions. Whoever set that fire and whoever ordered it done are the only ones who bear any blame. Don't let them lay that at your feet."
"I knew I was putting them in danger by working there."
"What are you supposed to do? Never work? Never live or experience anything?"
"If it will save people, I guess so."
"If you really felt that way, you wouldn't be here, now. You wouldn't have run. You'd have gone back to them."
"I guess you're right. I want to feel that way. I want to say that I'd do anything... I want it to be true. I'm not a good person."
"Yes, you are. I know you may not believe this, but I do know you. My monster knows your monster in a way the human part of our psyche can't understand. I know this won't give back what was taken, but I can use our army of lawyers to make sure the insurance pays out to the families of those people who were killed. And Woolven can sweeten the pot."
"I guess you were right about money, too. It doesn't fix everything, but throwing money at a problem does make it easier to swallow."
"It's your money, now, too. Would it make you feel better to write the check yourself?"
"No. It would make me feel better to rip that guy's arms off and shove them up his ass." She said it with all seriousness.
"That can actually be arranged."
"Won't that cause problems if a member of the press just disappeared after pissing me off at my wedding?"
"I think we both know he wasn't press."
She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. "I'm getting slow and too complacent. He was off to me, but he didn't have that vampire taint humans get when they're cattle or blood slaves. I missed it."
"Maybe he's something else. Doesn't matter. We'll figure out how to make him suffer. If you want him to pay, I will deliver."
"Parker, don't. Promise me you won't try to find him."
"Sweetheart, I will never lie to you, so you have to know, that's not a promise I can make. Security will be acquiring certain things from him on his way out. A piece of his hair, the pheromone chemistry of his scent, and then enforcers from our pack will run him down and either bring him in for questioning, or they'll tear him apart."
"You're as brutal as the Asakku," she said quietly.
He got the idea she didn't mean it as a compliment or encouragement. "Yes, we are. How do you think we've survived so long? My brother became Alpha of this pack when he was nothing but a kid because of the brutalities of the world we live in. We protect the pack at all costs. That includes you."
"I left the Asakku to get away from the killing."
"Killing is who and what we are. We don't have to do it indiscriminately, but it's part of our DNA. You just said you wanted to tear that man's arms from his body."
She flashed him a nasty look.
"Hey, I'm not judging. I'm all for it. But you have to stop denying who and what you are."
"You sound like my father."
"Maybe that's something you should've listened to him on." Parker took a moment and breathed deep. He wasn't trying to wind her up, or make this worse. "Belle, you can accept who and what you are while still being true to who you want to be."
"How do I do that?" she whispered.
"There's a reason you're wired for violence. It's to protect yourself. Stop fighting it."