27. Chapter 27

27

A s soon as Rebecca recognized the compulsion for what it was, the need to reveal everything to Maxwell was overshadowed and drowned out by a heavy, frigid dread curdling in the pit of her stomach.

More terrifying than the thought of her enemies finding her here—more even than the thought of her family finding her—was the idea that she wanted someone to know her true self. Not Rebecca Knox of Chicago but Rebecca Bloodshadow of Xahar’áhsh.

She shouldn’t want that. Ever.

Rebecca had designed her entire existence on Earth to avoid wanting to share anything with anyone. Every decision she’d made had prioritized her solitude and anonymity, every action taken to keep her from getting close to anyone.

Why the hell would that change now? Because a shifter acted like he actually cared?

She couldn’t eliminate that desire for connection altogether, so shoving it back down where it belonged was the best alternative.

But the more she struggled against the unexpected urge to tell Maxwell everything, the stronger it became.

Not just the desire to finally reveal herself to someone she thought she could trust.

That physical pull between them strengthened as well.

She hadn’t seen the shifter move since they’d stopped in the hall, but now he loomed over her, that much closer. A vague ache appeared in her neck, which she realized she’d craned to look up into his silver eyes.

The truth was right there on her lips, ready and waiting to be shared. Ready to put Rebecca’s life in someone else’s hands.

Of everyone she’d met and appreciated and come to care for in this world, Maxwell Hannigan would have fallen low on the list of people she might have wanted to tell. But here they were.

She almost gave in, but centuries of running, decades of keeping her truth locked away inside herself, shared with no one, helped her regain her senses.

She couldn’t tell Maxwell anything. Not who she was. Not why she’d escaped from the Bloodshadow Court, or what they’d wanted with her and still wanted. Not even that she’d already known Rowan Blackmoon from a lifetime ago.

A life from which she’d fled so she could build something new for herself here, however unsteady or in a state of constant flux.

The life she had on Earth was hers , and that alone made it worth protecting.

She thought she might have been trembling as she battled with the need to confess everything and confide in the shifter, but a few seconds later, the urge passed.

And Rebecca could breathe again.

Something told her the truth would only anger Maxwell and make him distrust her that much more.

Finally, she was thinking clearly again. Making him distrust her would only push him further away and make everything that much worse.

Then the moment that had drawn out like an entire day between them passed, and Rebecca cleared her throat.

If Maxwell wanted to protect her from impending threats, fine.

She held his gaze and finally settled on the only response that made any sense. “Why are you telling me all this?”

His eyes wandered back and forth across her face. He leaned closer, as if that would help him see the truth behind her constant mask.

She wanted him closer.

She wanted him to get out of her face and just answer her question.

She didn’t know what the hell she wanted.

Just before she couldn’t stand here any longer, gazing into those silver eyes, the shifter finally answered.

“You really pulled through tonight on mission. I’d thought it would take a lot longer to get to that point, if it ever happened. But you proved me wrong.”

Rebecca widened her eyes at him. Was this really happening?

“You proved you can do what Aldous never could,” Maxwell continued. “You cleaned up his mess, and you got it done right . Just like you said you would.”

Yes, provided he stopped getting in her way and sticking his nose in her business.

Now her Head of Security was finally acknowledging her efforts.

She wanted to thank him for it, but what popped out of her mouth instead was a low chuckle. “That surprises you. Why? Did you expect me to fail?”

It was meant as a joke based on the likely truth, knowing how Maxwell felt about her after the promises he’d made to unearth her secrets. She didn’t normally crack half-hearted jokes to lighten the mood, but this one served as more of a distraction.

Just for her, apparently.

Maxwell didn’t laugh but remained stoic and serious and deeply genuine as he dipped his head toward her, holding her captive in his gaze. “I was wrong.”

Blue Hells, she’d won the jackpot. An admission of wrong from Maxwell Hannigan.

This was the closest thing to an apology she would ever get from him, she was sure of it. It had come so unexpectedly and at such an odd time, Rebecca had no idea how to respond.

He was giving her the benefit of the doubt now, plus complimenting her ability. Maybe, if she stretched it, he might also be inadvertently admitting that he might have been too harsh on her from the beginning.

She found it strangely endearing, but that made it even more suspect. She still couldn’t tell what he was trying to do.

Was he flirting? Submitting? Showing fealty to the Thon-Da’al in his own special shifter way?

Was he deferring to her leadership and giving in, or was this something else she wasn’t equipped to recognize because she’d never been in a situation like this?

Or, worst-case scenario, Maxwell was piling it on thick to catch her off guard, lower her defenses, and later manipulate her into a corner and watch her fall apart afterwards. Because he still didn’t trust her.

Any of it was possible. All of it was possible.

With that tingling warmth swirling around them and between them, draping over her shoulders and down her back, the heat of his body so close to her and his scent of dewy grass, moonlight, and sandalwood beckoning her even closer, there was no way to think clearly about any of it.

And because she’d never felt this with anyone, the only thing Rebecca knew how to do was to draw back.

“Don’t sweat it,” she said with an airy chuckle. “Everybody gets it wrong sometimes. Happens to the best of us. I was just doing my job.”

“You were.” He still wouldn’t cut it out with the intensity of his stare, or looming over her like he meant to pounce at any second. “And it’s my job to detect and eliminate potential threats.”

“To Shade, right?” It shouldn’t have mattered, but she needed to know what this was, what the shifter was trying to pull, or if this was all in her head and she was losing it. “Or to me?”

His gaze roamed across her face again, then trailed along the side of her neck, up along her jaw, and finally settled on her lips when he leaned in and answered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Both.”

This was too much. All of it was too much.

His strange possessiveness and need to protect her. His complete lack of personal boundaries throughout what few serious conversations they’d had to date. His inability to clearly state whether he acted like this because she was Shade’s commander or because he felt something else for her specifically…

And now he’d done it again, lumping it all together.

She couldn’t figure out where his duties to this task force ended and any interest in her might have begun. Or if it even existed.

If there was no differentiating line, then what the hell were they doing ?

Had she misread everything?

They stood like that for a long time, the tension crackling between them, Rebecca’s face flushed hot with his closeness and the tingling warmth in his presence that now felt on the verge of boiling.

She had to go. She had to get away from him, so she could think again. She had to…

All thoughts stopped when Maxwell lifted a hand toward her face.

She couldn’t let herself believe he was reaching for her . That kind of misconception only led to humiliation. Ancestors knew she’d already faced enough of that as it was.

Then she thought he was about to play with her hair before a gentle pressure settled on her head.

What?

Maxwell lowered his hand again and opened it between them to show the small, glittering shards of obliterated metal shipping container that had gotten tangled in her hair at the docks.

The second she realized what he’d done, she puffed out a sigh. “Right. Thanks.”

“You’ve got something else on your mind,” he said, cool as a cucumber while Rebecca thought she might catch fire any second. “What is it?”

“Nothing. But…sometimes you say things that don’t make much sense. I’m just letting it sink in. You know, that you’re keeping both Shade and me safe from threats, I guess. That’s…good to know.”

How easy it was to make herself sound like a complete moron.

Maxwell dusted the metal shards off his palm but still didn’t look away from her. “For someone in your position, they’re one and the same. Shade and its commander. In case you haven’t figured that out yet.”

That might have been meant as a compliment, knowing Maxwell’s fondness for rules and protocol and order, but it felt much more like a major letdown. The intensity of her new disappointment surprised her.

At least she had her answer.

Her Head of Security was not, in fact, flirting with her. He was looking after his commander, because the Thon-Da’al and Shade, according to him, were the same thing.

This was just Maxwell Hannigan’s own special brand of being a good shifter soldier, and that was it.

Knowing this broke Rebecca’s indecision and immobility, and she could finally think again.

“Okay,” she told him with a nod and stepped back. “Good. That’s cleared up, then. Good night, Hannigan.”

She started to turn toward the hall and her private room a few doors down from the infirmary, but then she paused to make one more addition, pointing toward her room. “I’m going to walk down this hall by myself. But if you still need to play lookout, feel free to do it from here.”

If she had to order him to stay, she would, but she wanted to give him a chance to listen on his own.

Right now, she needed to put more distance between them so she could keep thinking clearly.

If Maxwell decided to keep following her all the way to her room, she couldn’t predict what would happen.

She didn’t trust the intensifying tension of this thing growing between them, whatever it was, that sent tingling chills racing across her shoulders whenever he was near, or across the room, or within her general vicinity.

She didn’t know what it was, and she didn’t trust it, which meant she had to cut it off now before she did something stupid.

The muscles of Maxwell’s jaw worked slowly, his frown deepening as he studied her, but he finally nodded before his voice dipped low enough to almost be a growl. “Good night.”

Rebecca spun around and booked it down the hall, moving just short of breaking into a dead run, silently begging him not to follow her.

She’d just come way too close to losing control of herself and losing sight of her goals.

His footsteps never followed her, and he had nothing more to say.

She reached her room, unlocked the door with a quick bolt of yellow light and a simple unlocking spell, and stepped inside.

But as she turned to close the door behind her, she poked her head out for one more quick glance down the hall.

Maxwell stood where she’d left him, unmoving, unyielding, his eyes pulsing with a soft glow under the hallway’s dim lighting.

Under different circumstances, she might have thought it creepy. Somehow, it wasn’t.

At least he’d stayed put.

That felt more like a truce between them than any previous agreement they’d made or unspoken understanding they’d come to so far.

As she swung the door shut and locked it from the inside, Rebecca smiled to herself. While a little confusing and completely unexpected, she was grateful for her Head of Security, for everything they’d already achieved in her short stint so far as Shade’s commander.

It briefly occurred to her that she could invite him into her room and find out for good whether his interested in her extended beyond their roles within Shade, but then her bedroom door was shut and locked, and she tossed the notion out of her mind.

No, Maxwell’s interest in her was only an extension of his interest in Shade. He’d made that clear. And Rebecca wasn’t even looking for someone to invite into her room.

Nor could she afford to let any of her relationships go there, because they were all sure to end the same way.

With Rebecca moving on, eventually, because she had to if she wanted to keep her past from catching up to her.

But it already had in a way, hadn’t it?

Rowan hadn’t explicitly declared anything on the Bloodshadow Court’s behalf. He could have come to Earth independently, to find her on his own because no one else could. His presence here meant nothing beyond the obvious—that somehow, he’d tracked her down.

Did that mean it was already time for Rebecca to move on from Shade and find something else? Or did she still have time here?

That thought worried her most of all, because she wanted more time here, at Shade, with the magicals she thought of more and more as family every day. With Maxwell, even.

She was starting to feel things about this place and this life she’d never felt for any other, not in all her decades of living on the run as one reinvention of herself after another.

She’d never felt anything like what she felt now with Maxwell, either, even without knowing what that feeling was or able to give it a name.

Even with other elves, it had never been like this. Including with elves she was supposed to have felt something else for, but that missing piece had never fit. It simply hadn’t been there.

Was that what this was with Maxwell? Some missing piece she’d been looking for?

If that were true, this was a serious problem.

The second Rebecca started to care about something, to really care and to really want it, it all ended in ruin.

She didn’t think she could survive losing something so important all over again.

Neither would the others around her, if she suffered another loss like that.

No matter what, at all costs, she had to stay away from feeling anything for anyone that couldn’t be dropped at a second’s notice if she had to abandon this life too for the next.

But no matter how much logical sense her conviction made, a part of her was starting to believe it was already too late.