Chapter 77

Grace

I was seething with anger and an overwhelming desire to seek immediate vengeance. My instincts were screaming for blood. The thought of someone targeting my home and my family was unbearable. I wanted to find that bastard and his father to make them pay.

Eason hesitated, clearly torn between revealing the person's identity and keeping it a secret.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "His name is Ethan Darrow."

Charles frowned. "Darrow... As in Kalen Darrow, the head of the WSU?"

I growled as Eason nodded. I shot up. Charles reached out and caught my wrist firmly, keeping me in place.

"Let me go--"

"Do you even know where the WSU's HQ is?" I set my jaw. "Or where Kalen or Ethan would be?"

I growled, and he smiled at me.

"I know you're furious, and I am too," Charles began, his voice a calming force amidst the chaos of my emotions. He didn't look pissed, but his eyes glowed bloody red, and that gave me a little reassurance that he would just as soon help me hunt them down as stop me. "But going after Ethan's father is exactly what he wants. It would only escalate things further. People like him are always looking for something to prove their prejudice founded. It would be twisted into an attack rather than retaliation."

I was torn between the fire of revenge and the rationality in Charles's words.

"Do you know this man?" I asked.

Charles sighed. "I know of him. He's a terrible man, ignorant, and prone to violence. He gets away with it because he's basically golfing buddies with your current president."

My eyes bulged.

"As I said, violence isn't going to help. It's time to force his hand, both of them. We'll have to expose the WSU's actions in a way that makes it impossible to sweep it under the rug..." He hummed. "It has to be something no one can ignore, or you'll be vilified, as will Eason, and it will never end."

His lips twitched. "It might even make it worse."

I clenched my fists, the desire for swift retribution still burning within me. But I knew Charles was right. "I hate this."

"I know," he said. "Though, I think you'll come to like it."

"Not happening."

"Viciousness comes in various forms." He smiled like he had an evil plan brewing in his mind.

"He'll pay for this?"

He grinned. "He'll be begging for forgiveness, I promise."

I huffed. "Fine. We'll... do it your way."

My anger simmered still.

"Why don't you blow off some steam and come back when there isn't steam coming out of your ears?"

I scowled at him, but I stomped out of the room.

"I promise not to make passes at your boyfriend," Eason called.

"You better not!"

He laughed, and as much as it gave me hope and a sense of peace to hear him sounding more himself. It did nothing for the rest of my anger. I needed an outlet, a way to release the fury before I flew off the handles. As I stormed down the hall, the scent of blood faded. I could hear the furnace gearing up to heat the house and something else running. I turned a corner and nearly barreled into Jackson, who looked like he was just coming back for the evening.

"Grace, I--"

"I don't want to hear anything from you," I spat out, my voice tinged with barely restrained anger. "Move."

He didn't. Typical of him. Did he not realize I could tear him to pieces? Probably not. He still hadn't realized that I was half lycan.

To be fair, I had only just found out I was.

"What's eating you now?"

"Jackson, get out of my way."

"Are you still mad about what I said--"

"Jackson--"

"Or are you just mad that it's the truth? You know--"

I glared up at him. He lost color in his face.

"I'm pissed off because there's someone I want to kill," I snapped, not bothering to mince words. "And it would be a terrible political move to do so."

The words hung in the air like a storm cloud. My frustration, my anger, my helplessness in the face of this threat, all of it spilled out in that single admission. Jackson, to his credit, seemed to understand that he was working on being on the list of "want to kill," but he had no hope of being on the list of "not a good political move."

I pushed past him, storming away from him and down the twists and turns of the house. As I stormed away, leaving Jackson behind, I could sense his unease. My abrupt outburst had clearly rattled him, and I couldn't blame him. I was grateful for it. Maybe he would stop being a fucking idiot and making my life difficult for a few days. If he kept his mouth shut for at least a week, I might regain a bit of peace.

Entering the punching bag room, I closed the door behind me hard enough to shake the frame. My eyes fell upon the lycan punching bag hanging there.

Without hesitation, I started to strike the bag, each blow fueled by anger. Each punch felt a bit like I was releasing some of the storm raging within me. The dull thuds echoed in the room, matching the pounding in my chest as I grappled with the turmoil of the situation.

How could Eason not tell me he was in danger? How had he fled all the way to a witch's city because he felt it was safer rather than come home? Why had he come back at all if he was safer there?

I growled at that thought and punched harder. It wasn't that I wanted him to stay away. I wanted my brother safe.

My eyes burned with tears as his words came back to me.

I would have just stayed... but I couldn't leave Grace in Mooncrest with Devin for longer than it took to not be so angry and hurt.

My baby brother had left the safety of Selene to come back here for me and my stupid decisions, even after I had pushed him away. Tears streamed down my face as I punched and punched. The image in front of me had changed from the faceless Kalen and Ethan Darrow to a twenty-five-year-old Grace who had been too stupid to realize that her brother meant the world to her, that he should have been the one she clung to when the grief got to be too much, that Ethan was worth way more than some stupid chance at half-assed love.

Stupid-hearted Grace...

I was sobbing and pummeling the bag, and no one came down. I didn't know if anyone else knew where the room was or if Charles was just giving me the space.

I hoped he was handling whatever was happening with the Enforcers. I hoped he was putting the final touches on whatever diabolical plan he had because I couldn't help him with that.

I couldn't even get through my own roiling and rioting emotions to see straight. I didn't know how long I'd been at it, but eventually, exhaustion began to replace anger. My muscles ached, and the bag swung back and knocked me off my feet again, knocking the wind out of me. I landed on my back, panting and staring up at the ceiling.

I realized then that the dust that had been in here before was gone, and I hadn't cleaned it.

Why don't you blow off some steam and come back when there isn't steam coming out of your ears?

I sniffled even as my lips curved into a smile. Charles knew about this room, it seemed. He'd cleaned it or had someone clean it. I lay there for a long time, just letting the tears fall and my regrets beat the shit out of me before I scraped myself off the floor and went to find Eason.

How I knew he'd still be awake, I didn't know, and it didn't matter. I walked into his room. He looked up at me, sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and still damp. His lips trembled.

"I'm glad I decided not to go blonde," Eason said, his tone brittle and light as he tried to smile. "It would have stained... pretty badly."

I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him, threading my hands through his hair.

"You don't have to go anywhere."

"They're not going to stop--"

"This is your home," I growled at him. "And I'm so sorry, Eason... I'm so sorry for pushing you away, for making you feel like you couldn't tell me this."

"You had those munchkins to worry about."

I pulled back and pressed our foreheads together. "You've been my munchkin since I was six years old, Eason."

His eyes welled with tears, and he sniffled, letting out a soft whine and burying his face in my chest as he cried. I cried, and I wished more than ever I could have stopped myself from doing so much damage to my family.