Chapter 16 - Olivia

The man standing in front of me is handsome .

Like, drop-dead gorgeous handsome. Every bit of his skin that I can see is covered in elaborate, swirling tattoos, and his roguish smile makes his teeth glint in the moonlight. He has dimples. If I wasn't so tangled up in Byron, it might actually pull me in.

His scent is confusing to me—almost all him , and nothing of his pack. I keep taking deep breaths, trying to place him, but I can't. He's definitely not from Rosecreek—is he from a nearby pack I haven't heard of?

"Brother?" I ask, dumbly, finally loosening my hold on the gun. My gaze swings to Byron, who's rubbing his hand over the back of his neck. "You have a brother ?"

"I can't believe this!" Zane says, tilting his head and dropping to his elbows on the counter. "How could you never tell your girlfriend about me, man? What, did you cut me out of all your childhood stories?"

The way Byron is staring daggers at Zane could slit his throat. I clear my throat, and Byron takes a short, stuttering breath.

"What do you want, Zane?"

"Heard from a friend of a friend that you're living here," Zane says, raising an eyebrow at him. "Thought I would stop by. What, you're not happy to see me?"

"You broke into my apartment. "

"Yeah, you're welcome. Clearly, you need to update your security. That's so unlike you, lil bro. Usually, you got your shit locked up tight ."

Byron puts a hand to his face, and I can't stop looking between them. They're related. They're brothers. I try to fit them together and imagine their family, and then I remember what Linnea said about what happened to Byron's parents.

There's definitely some animosity between the brothers. I wonder if it has to do with their shared trauma.

"It's programmed to ignore my DNA," Byron says, through gritted teeth. "Guess I should have known the only loophole to that would show up at my front door."

"Or fridge."

"Zane—"

"Look, I just want to get some coffee, okay?" Zane says, holding his hands up. "Is there anywhere around here that we can get something good? I'm missing the coffee back home."

When I glance at the windows, I realize the sun is coming up, and that I actually slept through the night last night. At Zane's statement, I also realize that I don't even know where Byron is from.

"Where is back home?" I ask, and Zane raises his eyebrows, his hands still up in the air.

"What, you mean like, where am I coming from, or where are we from? You do know where he's from, right? Aren't you two—?"

"Just answer the question."

"Detroit," Byron says, quickly, his eyes darting back and forth between me and Zane. "We grew up in Detroit."

"You know what?" I ask, reaching back and setting the shotgun on the armchair behind me. "If you want coffee, I'll take you to get some coffee. That would be lovely."

"Wait—"

"Yes," Zane says, snapping his fingers. "I will take you up on that."

"Great, just give me a second to get dressed."

"Take your time, baby."

I blush, mostly at the way Byron is looking at his brother, like he wants to murder him. But he doesn't have the right to be possessive of me—he lost that right a long time ago.

Rushing back to Byron's room, I rifle through his stuff until I find a casual dress I left here ages ago. I slip it over my head, wash my face, brush my teeth, and apply some quick mascara. When I step out of the bedroom, only five minutes have gone by, but the guys look even closer to ripping at each other's throats.

"Ready!" I say, blinking when Byron's voice enters my head. Even though it's sudden, it feels like the most natural thing in the world. Like there would always come a day when we could communicate with one another like this, even outside of the special ops team.

Liv, you do not want to go with this guy. Just let me—

Get out of my fucking head, Cox.

I take a breath, shaking out my arms. Byron is looking at me imploringly, like he wants to beg me not to do this, but can't spare the indignity when Zane crosses the room, opening the door for me and putting a hand on the small of my back. It feels all wrong, and my body instantly longs for Byron, but it does feel good to know that he's probably seething as he watches us go.

***

"So," I say, ten minutes later when Zane and I are situated at a table in the bakery. Lisa recently got an espresso machine and has been learning how to make lattes. Before we came in, I threatened Zane, saying that if he complained, I'd team up with Bigby to take him out. We share a fondness for the baker. "You're Byron's brother."

"The one and only. As far as I know."

We sit there in silence for a moment, then Zane says, while playing with an errant straw wrapper, "How's he doing?"

"Oh," I say, clearing my throat. I don't feel qualified to do that, so I answer a different question instead. "He's on the team. Does tech stuff—surveillance and tech and that kind of stuff."

He nods, and it gets quiet again.

"What do you do?"

"A little bit of this, a little bit of that," he says, grinning and abandoning the straw wrapper to play with his cigarette box.

"What does that even mean?" I laugh, noting that fidgeting must be a Cox trait.

"Well," he says, taking the tiniest sip of his coffee. "Just got my pilot's license."

"Wow," I say, choking down a drink of my coffee as well. "So, Detroit?"

"Yeah," Zane says, raising his eyebrows at me. This, finally, seems to open him up a bit. "I'm kind of shocked you don't know that. I mean—I know By doesn't like to talk about the past, but that seems like a pretty innocent detail."

"Because of the vampire stuff?" I ask, before I can think it through, then I smack a hand to my mouth, shaking my head and speaking through my fingers. "Shit, I'm sorry—I didn't mean to just—"

"It's okay," Zane says, "it was a long time ago."

He pauses, wrapping his hands around his mug and looking out the window. We're the only ones in the bakery this early, and we can hear Lisa clanking around with pans and machinery in the back. It's peaceful.

"I mean," he says, clearing his throat and meeting my eyes. His are dark brown, just like Byron's. "Obviously, that kind of thing doesn't ever leave you. It's part of the reason I'm a rogue."

"Oh," I say, nodding, "so that's what's up with your scent."

"Damn," he says, chuckling and pretending to hang his head. "Not every day a girl says I smell."

"No," I laugh, "it's not that, obviously, I just—I've never smelled a rogue before."

"Yeah," Zane says, clearing his throat. "Left when I was young, never looked back. Our Alpha didn't really seem to care about what happened to our family—he was too busy trying to garner more power for his position. It was hard to stay there when it felt like none of our pack mates cared about what had happened to us."

"I can imagine," I say, clearing my throat.

"My dad was close to the Alpha," Zane says, eyes on his drink. "That's why he had a run-in with vamps in the first place. But, since my mom and dad were blood-bonded, they went at the same time."

"That's horrible."

"Yeah," Zane says, sighing and pulling a coin from his pocket. He starts to slip it through his fingers, flipping it like a magician. "She was making spaghetti. I can't even look at that dish the same."

"What was it—" I stop, thinking of the blood bond between Byron and me. If he died right now, what would happen to me?"

"Like a heart attack," Zane says, raising his eyes to mine. "Like her heart just stopped beating. She clutched at her chest, and we didn't even have a chance to call 911 before she was gone. It was horrible, but I think it was worse for Byron. He was always the responsible one, and he always felt like it was his fault. I was more of a trouble child."

"I appreciate that you're telling me all this," I say, flattening my hands on the table. "But…why? I mean, we're practically strangers."

"Well," he says, laughing and spinning the coin on the table. "I know, Byron. He'll act like I don't, but when you go through that kind of shit together, you get to know the innermost part of someone. My bet right now is that, even though the two of you are clearly mates, he's pushing you away. Not letting you in. That sound about right?"

"Yes," I whisper, thinking of the way he pulled out of me the other night, not trusting that I'm on birth control. "That sounds about right."

"I thought so," Zane says, taking a small sip of his coffee and trying not to grimace. I can't stop myself from smirking at the effort he's putting in. "Well, I guess—things haven't always been easy between Byron and me, and I'm sure they're not easy between the two of you, but he loves you. I can tell that. I—well, I guess I'm kind of barging in here and asking you not to give up on him. It just might take a little work to convince him that the world isn't out to get him, or that he deserves to be happy, or whatever."

"Doesn't everyone deserve to be happy?"

"He still blames himself for our mother's death," Zane says, "so—"

"Olivia?"

I jump, realizing the little bell over the door rang, and now Linnea is standing in front of our table. She's looking between the two of us with wide eyes, and I can tell from her expression that she's trying to get a read on Zane's scent.

"Hey, Linnea—"

"Zane," Zane says, holding his hand out. "Zane Cox."

"Zane…Cox," Linnea repeats, her brow furrowed as she allows him to shake her hand.

"Byron's brother," he says, smiling at her.

"Byron's brother," she says, her voice still flat and almost sleepy. Then, a moment later, her face lights up with recognition, and she glances at me, as though needing confirmation that he's not an illusion.

"I didn't know Byron had a brother!" she says, clasping her hands together. "That's so wonderful! Are you visiting for the holidays?"

When Zane looks down at the silver dollar in his hand, I realize we never did get around to why he's visiting. He clears his throat, then gives Linnea another winning smile.

"Something like that."

"Well, you have to come to the Christmas party we're throwing," Linnea says, "there will be food and presents, and it's a great time, every year. We would love to have you. Any family of Byron's is family of ours."

"You know what?" Zane asks, his eyes bouncing between Linnea and me. From the tone of his voice, I know he's thinking about how much this will piss Byron off. "That sounds delightful."