26. Chapter Twenty-Six

"We will leave by truck in six hours, which will give Mischa and her village time to get the necessary supplies ready," Hisao said to our group. "That also puts us on schedule to be there at nightfall. They're south of us, so they'll have a proper night at this time of the year, unlike this village."

"It's also nearly seventeen hours until we get to them," I pointed out. "Right before we landed, we were down to forty-eight hours left. If my math is right, and it's probably a little off, we've got forty-four left. Another seventeen hours leaves…" I did the quick math, but it was slow. The time zones had already made my head spin, and now simple subtraction was hard. "Twenty-seven or so? Then another ten-hour trip back…I want to get there faster."

"The time limit the werewolves gave you is fine. It won't matter by the time we have your family," Hisao pointed out. "Forget the time limit, it's not a concern for us. We'll be in and out well before they have a reason to hurt your family. I'm more worried about chaos in the compound, thanks to the change in regime. It's going to be okay, Jacky." He was kind with that last line, lifting a hand to make a gesture that told me I needed to bring my anxiety down.

Gwen stood beside me, holding my hand tightly. Heath stood further around the circular table with Gwen between us, his face frozen in a severe expression as he concentrated on the map. Mischa and Hisao were directly across from me.

"We take the truck halfway since we'll have the road that far, then proceed in animal form. It turns off at a bad place. We'll have a bag for clothing for Heath. He's the only one of us I want in human form once we leave that truck and make it to the compound."

"How do we get our family back with no ride on a five-hour run?"

"I can hotwire," Hisao said.

"So can I," Heath added. When I looked at him like he'd grown a second head, he shrugged. "It's a useful skill that can mean life or death, and it comes with learning how to work on your own car. It's not hard. Just a few minutes if the vehicle is old enough and the wiring isn't a complete mess."

Hisao was the only person in the room who gave Heath an appreciative nod of respect. I was still a little shocked to find out the good werewolf father knew how to steal a car.

"It will be an old truck," Mischa said, drumming her fingernails on the table. "Luxury cars are only for the rich, but a good truck out here just needs to be easy to fix and strong enough to handle rough treatment. The pack will have several old things you can steal. If they don't, I'll be surprised."

"So, we drive them back to our original vehicle, then switch, leaving the pack's vehicle," Hisao finished, still pointing at that one spot on the map. "It's not a smooth plan, but it will see us through."

"You didn't talk about how to free our family," Gwen pointed out, her hand squeezing mine.

"There's not much to say. We need to track them down in enemy territory, where there are two options if we fail—be killed on sight for Jacky and me or be captured, which will be Heath's fate. It's not something we can plan since we don't have satellite imaging," Hisao explained. "We have to follow our instincts and our experience to get us in and out. Getting out will be the harder task, with two elderly humans and two children who are prone to making a lot of noise. Don't worry about the details. We'll either succeed and tell you, or fail, in which case everyone will know as soon as the werewolves can confirm our deaths."

"They'll blast your deaths on every channel where supernaturals get their information," Heath said softly. "And they'll try bargaining hard with Landon for my release, something he won't fall for. He knows the rules."

"Let's not talk about the dying or captured thing, please," I mumbled. "So…we have a plan."

"We have a plan," Hisao confirmed, nodding once. "You can all go and clean up, change, take a nap. Mischa?"

"Three hours. A truck will be out front in three hours." She left first. Heath, Gwen, and I left next. I dropped Gwen off at her guest bedroom, then headed upstairs to my room, which had a small bathroom attached. I went to start a bath when someone knocked on my door.

"Come in," I called.

I was surprised to smell Gwen, then see her come into the doorway to the bathroom.

"I wanted to talk to you," she said, swallowing.

"You could have said something before I left you in your room." I was genuinely confused.

"I…I thought about it for a second, then came up after you. Hisao pointed the way when I saw him in the hall."

"Ah." I went back to checking the temperature of the water.

"Jacky—"

"What happened between us?" I asked softly. "I remember…being very close to you. I have memories from when we were fourteen, and it was beginning to fall apart. I don't remember much else from my childhood, but I know the feeling. I used to trust you implicitly. What changed?" She had come up to talk to me, but I took over the conversation. I sat on the edge of the tub and watched her.

"Well…" Gwen shrugged, then jumped up to sit on the counter, her legs hanging down. "I don't know. I just remember…something changed. We entered high school, and you had so many friends while I was getting better grades. Not that your grades were bad—"

"I graduated high school in the top ten of our class. No, my grades weren't bad," I snapped. "You would get a ninety-nine on something, I would get a ninety-two, and I was treated like I amounted to nothing. Like I was stupid," I huffed. But something else she said stuck with me after that outburst. "I didn't have that many friends."

"You were one of the most popular people in school," she said impatiently. "You were so cool. All I had were my grades and being Valedictorian. You knew how to talk to people and make them see you. They didn't ignore me, but the only reason I was student class president was I was Valedictorian and your sister. You didn't run—"

"So, you used me to campaign." That I definitely remembered, allowing myself to chuckle.

"I've always been certain they voted for me because they thought I was you," she said, laughing. "I said you were good with people. You are. You always have been. I don't know what your life has been like since Shane died, and I can't begin to imagine how much everything has changed you and not just in a werecat sense. You could talk your way out of trouble with anyone. Our parents knew it, and I knew it, but everyone else? They just let you get away with everything. Remember when you cursed at a teacher?"

"He was an asshole to students," I said, going down memory lane.

"Yeah. He didn't write you up, but that news flew all over school. Our parents found out and—"

"And said ‘why can't you be more like Gwen?'" I tilted my head and gave her an expectant look.

"Yeah…"

"Yup, that memory is just fine," I said, looking at my half-full bath. "What's your point?"

"They kept telling you to be more like me, but…I was actually jealous of you in high school," she admitted so softly I thought I imagined it. I saw her lips move and the sound come out, but I didn't believe the words. "You stood up for people, fought for them. You talked to the smart kids, the sports kids, the drama kids. Clichés didn't exist for you. You walked into high school and decided in a weird way, you were above that bullshit…" She shook her head. "I was jealous of you. Jacky, I was the person who told our parents about the story. The school wasn't going to. They were getting on to me about how I needed to do something more than be smart. I needed to learn an instrument or join another club, and I just fired out with, ‘Be happy I'm not cursing at teachers like Jacky.'"

My jaw dropped.

"I think…I think it was my fault," she whispered. "I think I'm why we lost touch, and the rift grew. I was never a people person. I was driven by ambition, the ambition our parents wanted us to have. You know they wanted us both in medical school, but did you ever really want it?"

"I could help people," I answered. "It gave me the chance to keep helping people."

"You should have been a lawyer," she said, smiling a little. "I always thought it would be a better fit for you."

"That's insane," I said, shaking my head. "I couldn't—"

"Look at you earlier. You were pleading your case and brought witnesses. You stopped, and I could see you do what you always do. You consider your options. How to talk your way to getting what outcome you want. You maneuver and manipulate like the best of them."

"I don't. This was a one time thing—"

"I heard you pleaded your case in front of the Tribunal so well, you convinced Hasan to take your side. He's a member, but apparently he's never held himself or his family above the Law. He even allowed a werewolf pack to deliver justice to the werewolves who murdered his daughter, and because they had done it before he could, he took no further action. He didn't go after anyone else because that was against the Law. He didn't rampage the way a father should. No, instead he disappeared—"

"For over a century until he came to defend me," I finished for her. "I know."

"Why did he do that?"

"Because I explained to him I felt like I was upholding my honor and the Duty by continuing when the Law said I needed to stop. It was a problem of two conflicting Laws and ideologies, and it needed to be changed," I answered softly. "He ended up agreeing with me."

"See?" She sighed. "You were always great at this. You know how to think about social things. Maybe that's why you became a humble bartender."

I rolled my eyes.

"And you're friends with werewolves, something no one really believes is true, but now I've seen it. You and Heath would die for each other. I can see that. You defend each other to the death, and he's literally walked into a lion's den to back you up." She smirked, probably at her own little joke. Werecats weren't lions, but I wasn't going to burst her bubble. "Maybe you shouldn't have been a lawyer. A politician might have been a better choice."

I smiled in return. "I don't like politicians."

"Of course not. You never did. They were always too slimy and corrupt for you," Gwen whispered, her smirk staying.

"Yeah." I chuckled, remembering the rants I had as a college student when people told me I needed to vote. I was so cynical about politicians, I never voted during my human life and would never be able to now. Something felt peaceful in the bathroom. I turned the water off and leaned over, putting my elbows on my knees. For the first time in a long time, I voiced something I carried for years.

"I was jealous of how much our parents loved you. They were always looking for my flaws, but you were so golden and perfect."

"I think I was what they expected and wanted, while you wanted to make your own path. I'm sorry I never supported you."

"We were kids," I murmured, staring at my hands. "We were kids and…it wasn't your fault they were never satisfied with me. I'm sorry for the way I used to treat you…still treat you. I've resented you for a long time."

"Is that why you cut us off?" she asked.

"It played a role," I admitted. "But it wasn't the only reason. I thought you were too toxic to be my family. A lot of the way you treated me and the way my…other siblings have is pretty similar. I've always been the bad kid, I guess." I shrugged. "So, it wasn't that. It was just the realistic pain I knew I would have to go through. And exposing all of you to this world? It's dangerous, as you can see, and easy to get a lot of people hurt, easy for things to go sideways."

She nodded, and we settled into silence. I really wanted to take my bath, but I couldn't tell her to leave. She had come in here to talk to me.

"What did you want to say when you came in?"

"I wanted to talk to you about this," she said, smiling a little. "Though I expected to be the one apologizing, not hearing one from you."

"I'm all ears," I teased, but the seriousness on her face made the humor die as quickly as it had come.

"I started seeing a therapist after Daniel left me," she said softly. "She asked me why I was angry and upset over Daniel leaving me when I never spent time with him. I'm sad Daniel left, and it still hurts, but she was right. I never saw him. I told her…I was most upset that my perfect life fell apart. It was so perfect, and my kids were going to grow up, getting everything they wanted with well-adjusted, normal parents who were still together. Then I didn't have that. My perfect life was gone, and…our parents did what they always did and were angry with me for not being perfect."

I wondered what point she was trying to make.

"Once I could admit that, the loss of perfection, my therapist asked me why I needed to be perfect. I told her it's because it's the reason our parents loved me," she said quietly, sliding off the counter and looking at herself in the mirror. "They never acted like they loved you. They were so hard on you, which made me need to be perfect because I didn't want that from them. At the same time, I was jealous of you, speaking your mind, doing what you believed in. You had a fire. I think it scared our parents, really."

"Gwen, I'm glad you went to therapy, but I'm not following." I lifted my hands in defeat, hoping for some clarity.

"It's all steps," she said, shrugging. "So, when we talked about you and how jealous I was of you growing up, my therapist said something interesting. She said jealousy was one side of the coin—jealousy and admiration, a two-sided coin like love and hate. I was jealous of you, but it was rooted in admiration. So, I stopped going to therapy after that, knowing…I loved Daniel but not enough. I just wanted to be perfect for our parents, who always demanded it. I thought perfection was the only way. And my jealousy of you was my admiration that you didn't feel the need to be perfect. You only felt the need to be you and to do what you felt was right. You were good with people, and you didn't lie about your flaws. You fought against our parents, whose expectations were always too high and unreasonable."

"I tried to reach them, too," I mumbled, looking down.

"But you still fought when you thought they were unfair," she pointed out. "I always wished I could do that, and I lashed out at you. If I could convince myself you were wrong, maybe I wouldn't feel the way I did. Maybe I could finally be perfect because I would believe the same thing our parents did. I'm sorry for treating you that way when I admired you so much, and I didn't know how to handle that."

Tears welled up in my eyes.

"Then I discovered who you are now and what you've been doing." Gwen sounded choked up. "And I admired that. Life threw you one hell of a curveball, and you were still fighting. I decided I wanted to live up to you."

"Then Alpha Vasiliev happened," I whispered. "Gwen…" I was both touched and horrified.

"I know it's crazy. I know I should have never done it the way I did, but I'm glad we're going to help those women. They need someone to help them. I've realized what you meant about Sarah. She really did play me, and I feel so stupid—"

"Don't beat yourself up. It's not your fault," I said, shaking my head and lifting a hand, trying to stop her before she said something she regretted.

"Then you showed up with Heath, talking about politics and how you couldn't do this or that, and it felt like a slap in the face. You weren't the sister I remembered."

"And you weren't the sister I remembered," I said in return. She really wasn't. "I'm going to bathe, then probably get something more to eat. We're going to get them back, Gwen. I promise."

"Um…Well, that's another question I have. What happens when you do?" She seemed scared. "They'll now know about everything, and Daniel…we're not married anymore. He's the father of my children. And my children are going to need therapy…"

"We'll figure it out," I promised. I was certain there was something we could do—magics I didn't know well enough that someone could offer or even just money to help them adjust and install security. "Worry about that after we get them back. There's always a way in this world."

"How did you do it? How did you adjust to learning all of this and how dangerous it can be?"

"I didn't have a choice. I wasn't human anymore," I said, shrugging. "In the beginning, I was just thankful to be alive and grieving because I lost Shane. I had Hasan, a father figure who guided me. He and I had a falling out about four years in. Took us another six years to really begin talking regularly. My new siblings? I didn't start talking to them regularly until about a year and a half ago. If you ask any of them or Heath, they'll tell you I never really adjusted. I just made my own type of life and went with it. You probably know more about other supernatural species. I've only ever met a handful of fae and only met one witch or half-witch as far as I know. I've run into vampires." I sighed as I checked my water. It was still warm, but I needed to give up on the bath idea and just take a shower once she was gone.

"Do you really see them as your family?"

"Yes," I answered, looking up at her again. I saw the hurt there. She didn't like the truth, but there wasn't much I could do about that.

"They don't treat you very well," she accused, looking out the bathroom door.

"Neither did our parents," I reminded her. "Look, I know it's strange, but I feel…a connection to Hasan. He gave me immortality and treated me like a daughter from the moment we met. I'm not saying we're perfect. No family is perfect, but…when I've been in trouble, they have come to my side."

"But we're…" She waved a hand between us. "Related."

"Families aren't always about blood," I countered. "And I won't let you or them make me choose. If you want to talk to me and be a part of my life, I'm more than willing, but it won't come at the cost of the relationships I've been building with my immortal family. That goes both ways. They can't tell me I can't talk to you if I decide I want that moving forward."

"You're undecided? I thought…" Gwen stepped away from me, shaking her head.

"I haven't had the chance to even think about it," I admitted. "But we'll talk more. I can promise that."

"Okay, I can accept that. I mean, you're right. We were never really good to you, and it's something we need to repair. It can't be perfect just because we cleared the air." Gwen smiled and tapped the door frame as she looked away. "I should go and let you get ready."

"Yeah…Get some rest, Gwen. Clean up, put on a change of clothes. Do something to make yourself feel a little better."

She nodded once more and left.

I drained the bath and opted for a hot shower, feeling as if a weight was finally off my shoulders.

Maybe we can have a relationship going forward. There's a lot we need to do before we can get there, though.