27. Jane

"Fine, check me for contraband," Law tells the guard in a snippy tone only a lord and legacy could conjure, "but if you mouth-breathe on my macaroons, I'm reporting you to the culinary police."

The guy, who's dressed in a college security uniform, takes a rapid step away from the cooler Law has propped on the porch. "You're alright," he says gruffly. "But you have to be out of here at midnight. They have a curfew."

"And you, no doubt, have a poker game." Law takes a wad of cash from his pocket and wafts it under the guard's nose. "Let's just pretend I'm part of the furniture, and you don't need to track my comings and goings, hmm?"

The guard rubs the back of his neck but after a quick glance around, plucks the bribe out of Law's hand. "Just don't give us cause for a house inspection, and I'll pretend you were never here."

"Nice doing business with you," Law coos, and I sneak past the retreating guard, careful to avoid the creaky step at the top. As usual, the guys have left the front door unlocked, and Law struts into the entranceway, almost colliding with Avery as he hustles to the door. "Any news?" Avery demands. "Is she okay? I tuned into the college station, but they only gave updates on the players."

My heart squeezes as I realize he's talking about me and whether I survived the Trapshot game. "I'm fine," I tell him, reaching out on instinct, and he has me up against the wall in a heartbeat, my arm twisted behind me. I try to swallow my grunt of pain, but he's close enough to hear it and his weight is immediately gone from my back. "Jane?" he breathes. "Is that you? "

"What?" Law demands, reaching forward to poke me with a finger. Since he can't see me, it slides off my chin, narrowly missing my mouth. "What the hell is going on?"

"Yes, it's me." Instead of batting Law's finger away, I grab it and give a reassuring squeeze. "And don't freak out, but I'm camouflaged. You can't see me, but I can see you."

"Prove it," Avery says in a hard voice. "Tell us something only Jane would know."

I gape at him, but am I really surprised how quickly Avery can shift gears? "I'm a mercy and I really don't like footlockers."

There's a moment of silence and then they smile, Law a little hesitantly, while Avery is bristling with excitement. "Explain, please," he says quickly, steering me into the living room and over to the sofa. "What is it? A mercy adaptation or military tech?"

"Neither," I reply as he slides onto the chair beside me, his eyes gleaming behind his glasses. "It's something Luke can do. I mean, Cutter. A type of metachrosis, I think."

"Chromatophore manipulation?" Avery only looks more intrigued, and I can almost hear his big brain whirring. "Cutter is a chameleon? And he can pass it on to you? How? Is it a mutation or a power, like your healing?"

I open my mouth to explain that I'm as clueless as he is, but Travis is pushing past Law and glaring down at Avery. His bare chest is heaving, like he just took the basement steps three at a time, and seeing him in just a pair of old sweatpants is enough to make my mouth go dry. But Travis isn't suffering the same effects, spitting at Avery, "What the hell are you talking about? And where's Jane? I heard her voice."

I want to reach out and touch him, but remembering the way Avery shoved me into the wall, I sit on my hands. "I'm here, Travis. Right in front of you. I was just telling the others this is something Luke can do."

"She means Cutter," Law adds, still looking a little pale around the edges as his eyes dart around the room.

Travis looks equally flustered, but then he reaches out, his rough hands fumbling up my arms until he can grip my shoulders. "You're still in your uniform. What the hell is going on, Jane?"

"Nothing bad, I promise." I can't sit on my hands a moment longer and reach up to clasp his wrists. "Luke can camouflage himself and he showed me how. He had to do it to keep me safe."

Travis sinks onto the sofa beside me, the breath punching out of him as he cups my face. "Then change back, Jane. I want to see you're okay with my own eyes."

"I can't," I admit, watching the storm clouds gather in his face. His pupils narrow, his bones jutting under his skin, and if protective violence has a form, this is probably it. "I just mean not yet . Luke's power works kind of like mine…"

"Meaning he has to kiss you," Drew cackles as he slings an arm around Law's shoulders. His familiar grin makes the anger in my gut unclench an inch, especially when he purrs, "If you want to lay your lips on mine, sugar, I'll show you my superpower."

"Try it and die," Travis growls, but his voice is missing its usual fire, and I wrap my hands around his neck, pulling his head down for a kiss. It's not anything magical, but I can feel the shiver that runs through him. When some of the tension finally starts to melt from his muscles, I feel like the most powerful girl in the world. "I've missed you," he mumbles against my lips. "I've been stressed out of my head, worrying about you with those Trapshot morons."

"I've missed you, too. And the Trapshot stuff is done with. I told Manson I'm not going back."

Travis looks skeptical for a moment, but then sags even further into the sofa. The look of relief on his face is almost painful, and I realize that hurting these guys is like taking a knife to the heart.

"Mother mercy," Drew breathes, stepping closer and looking me over from head to toe. My skin is buzzing, and as heat flares in his eyes, I realize Luke's power has faded away. " That's what a blade boy wears? How did you not start a riot?"

I look down at myself and have to admit my black uniform looks a little out of place against the faded couch.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth," Travis snaps, but he's on his feet, searching the living room with a scowl. "Where are you, Cutter?"

I sniff, but I can't smell Luke's cookie scent. "I don't think he's here. He said the camouflage would fade after an hour."

Travis looks unimpressed, peering into the corners of the room. "I guess that explains why he's never in his room when we do welfare checks." He raises his voice, clearly projecting it for his invisible housemate. "Don't think this gives you a free pass to sneak around spying on us, Cutter. If you're in the room and we can't see you, you announce yourself. Either that or I start swinging every time I get a creepy feeling."

I bite my lip to hold in my smile, but Drew is almost bouncing on his feet. "Do you think he can teach the rest of us to go stealth mode? Because I really would like to stock up on some things from the dining hall, starting with the dessert bar." He glances at his twin who has his tablet out and is already researching chromatophore manipulation. "I mean, after Aves of course. Scientific discovery before happy tummies, and all that."

I smile at his antics, but then cast a glance at the front door. Shouldn't Luke be back from the library by now? "Um, I just need to check something in the attic."

Travis is on his feet in an instant. "Not alone, you're not." He obviously hears the snap in his voice because he sends me an apologetic glance. "Sorry. I just don't want you disappearing on us again."

"I won't," I promise, but they all follow me to the stairs, the patched-together wood groaning under our combined weight as I hurry up to the attic. The guys are a comforting presence behind me, but I'm chewing on my lip by the time I reach the attic. I knock on the door, my heart beating faster when I'm only answered by silence.

"Luke? Can we come in?"

I crack the door, peering into the dark room. There's a single lamp burning on the nightstand, the window wide open to the night air. I glance at the birdcage, noticing that the door is open as well. I cross to stare into the cage, certain that the water has been refilled and fresh seed scattered around. It definitely looks like Luke has been here, so why hasn't he shown himself?

"Isn't this your backpack, Jane?"

I turn, a sinking feeling settling in my stomach as I join Travis by the bed. I take my bag and reach inside, pulling out the file I took from the archives. It smells faintly of dust and mothballs, maybe with the faintest sprinkling of Luke's cookie scent.

I sink to the bed as I open the file and a single sheet of paper flutters out. I pluck it off the floor, not surprised to see a single line of writing in perfect calligraphy: Sorry, Jane, but I'm not ready to poke the beast.

"What beast?" Travis demands, reading over my shoulder. "Is that from Cutter?"

"I think…" I suck in a harsh breath, then dig in my bag again. "Damn. He kept the pass." I wince as I look up at Law. "I'm sorry, but he has your access pass. "

Law is frowning at me, but he waves it off. "It's fine. I can have it canceled and get you another."

"No, don't cancel it." Luke might still need it after all. "But can you come with me to the library?"

He lifts his brows. "Now?"

I nod. "You'll have more luck getting us in after-hours, and this can't wait until morning." I sling my backpack over my shoulder and look at the other guys. "We'll be right back. I just have to check something." They all look concerned, but I know they're also frustrated about being under house arrest. "Straight there and back, I promise."

Law makes it even easier than I expect, the campus guard turning his back as we step onto the porch. Getting to the library involves skirting the slight hill where the other student accommodation sits, and Law nods to the legacy apartments in the distance. "You know my offer still stands. You're welcome there, any time you need a safe place to retreat to."

I smile and move closer to him, confident that the darkness hides the way my hand slips into the crook of his arm. "I'm just glad to be back with you all."

He looks down at me, moonlight gleaming in his eyes as he takes in my Trapshot uniform. "I watched it, you know. Your game. My father has a box, but he's never there, so I got to watch you in private. And you were amazing, Jane. You looked like you'd been a Trapshot runner for years. Although, I nearly stormed the field when that big asshole took you down." There's heat in his eyes, but also a glimmer of concern. "Looked like Manson felt the same way. Are you sure he's going to let you go?"

"I told him I'm done," I reply, avoiding his gaze as we continue on towards the library.

"And you believe him? I've never known him to do anything that wasn't to his benefit."

I think of what I've discovered about his father and shake my head. "He told me something I didn't believe at first. He said that before the council and military took over, most people were in packs. But when war broke out with the Vistrians, alphas didn't want to leave their omegas behind, so they outlawed packs. People were dumped on communes and into city projects until they were either conscripted or sent off to work on estates." Law doesn't say anything, and I look up at him. It's his turn to avoid my eye, and his usual glow seems to have dimmed. "You knew? "

"I've been given the highlights." He pulls a face. "Or should I say the lowlights. Manson's covered it, but I'm surprised he told you. It's drummed into most legacies that talking about it will only open old wounds and lead to civil unrest." He tilts his head, looking at me curiously. "Why did he tell you?"

I flush before I can stop myself. "It doesn't matter, but I'm glad he did. This is a huge part of our history, Law. And maybe more than that. Maybe it's tied into our anatomy and physical wellbeing, too. I mean, isn't that how we're supposed to be? Alphas and their omega together…" I pause, thinking of my growing feelings for the guys. Is that more than just attraction and affection? Is this some part of me, looking for the alphas that would make the best mates? I don't have any answers, but it's hard not to think of my mom, slowly withering away after my dad died. "Maybe that's why we are what we are, Law. To be stronger because of our pack bonds."

We've reached the dark steps of the library, but as I start up them, Law puts his hand on my shoulder, looking into my eyes like he's trying to read my soul. "Is that what you want, Jane? A pack of your own?"

"I don't know," I admit. "But if that's really the natural order of things, shouldn't I get to choose?"

He mulls over my words as he swipes us into the library. There's no sign of the campus guards, but we stay silent as we wind our way up to the stacks on the next floor, my mind now buzzing with thoughts of Luke. Is this what the world is like for him most of the time? Quiet and gray, everything separated by a veil of secrecy? Does he wander the stacks at night, brushing his fingers over the spines of silent books? Does he read for pleasure, or are those books in the attic just there to gather dust, like the empty birdcage?

"This is obviously a literary hotspot," Law murmurs as I find the right row and crouch on the floor. He plucks a book off the shelf at random and peers at the cover. "What are we looking for? Because I have The Gentleman's Manual for Proper Conduct ." His lips curl in delight. "I'm definitely checking this out for Travis."

I smile, but it turns into a grimace as I open The Fine Art of Apology and find nothing inside. I think about searching the rest of the row for the other hidden documents, but then my gaze catches on a small white flower tucked into a page of the book, right next to this piece of sage advice: If a verbal apology is not possible, a handwritten note should be accompanied by a token of sincerity, like the white orchid.

I twirl the flower between my fingers, wondering how long he's been carrying it around. Did he pick this hiding place ahead of time, knowing he was never going to let me use the documents? Or did he have an attack of nerves and pluck it from one of the many bushes that grow around campus?

"Who's that book for?" Law asks, smirking at the picture of an old-fashioned alpha bending over the hand of an unimpressed omega.

"No one," I huff, tucking the flower into a pocket on my vest. "False alarm. There's nothing here but dusty shelves."