Page 24 of Marked By Moonlight
Bene looked hurt. Roux, alarmed.
“You know what this means for us?” the tiger shifter asked in a husky voice.
I stiffened. Yes, I knew. Any one of them screwing up reflected on the entire group, and the precarious deal they’d struck with Gordon — the deal securing them second chances and a fresh start in life — was under threat.
Well, I stood to lose too. I’d found a contractor to start work on the roof soon, and to pay for it, I needed the money Gordonpaid to board his team here. Still, wasn’t my life worth more than the roof?
I cleared my throat, but damn. My voice was still all husky. “I’ll put in a good word for you two with Gordon. But I’ll also explain why I don’t want you here. Any of you.”
My soul wept, because that meant Marius too. But what choice did I have? Bit by bit, these men had nudged me over to the dark side, and I needed to claw my way back to the light.
My heart bled as their eyes pleaded with me. But I had to hold firm. They weren’t fifth graders, but the principle was the same. If I caved in now, all discipline would be lost — and in this case, discipline could mean my life.
“Sure,” Roux scoffed. “Put in a good word with Gordon.” He gestured to my phone, daring me.
I huffed. “I will. But in person, not with a call.”
Roux snorted. “What, the next time you’re in Paris?”
I practically bared my teeth at him. “Today. I’m leaving now.”
Roux’s eyes went wide, and even Bene did a double take.
“You’re going to Paris? Now?”
I nodded firmly. My second spontaneous decision in five minutes, but yes.
“Yes, I am,” I said, summoning the resolve to walk out the door.
It was time to take control of my life, I told myself. But at that moment, it felt more like I was tearing it apart.
Chapter Six
MINA
The train had barely left the station, but second thoughts already clouded my mind. What the hell was I doing? Had I just thrown the baby out with the bathwater? And, yikes — hosting the police championships?
But it was too late now, because I’d already called Clem to confirm the event, driven to nearby Auxerre and hopped on the train to Paris. For once, no one was on strike and the train wasn’t delayed, so I had less than two hours to figure out what to do when I arrived.
Mostly, though, I stared out the window and wondered what I would someday feel, looking back on what was sure to be a pivotal (low) point in my life. The moment I’d turned my back on a group of sketchy but lovable supernaturals. A group I also counted on as a work force and as boarders whose rent offset renovation costs.
Then I remembered how close one of those supernaturals had come to killing me. Clearly, it was time for a change in the company I’d been keeping.
Even if it cost me friendships? Or worse — the château?
My emotions swung back and forth, back and forth.
Plan, dammit. Need a plan,I ordered myself.
The school I’d worked in taught students to break projects into phases: setting goals, planning, taking action, and reflecting.
I nearly started with reflecting, though. How had my life brought me to this point anyway?
But that wasn’t too helpful, so I focused on goals. What were mine here?
Recalibrating my moral compass placed high on the list. Next came visiting my godfather to confirm whether he really ran a crime syndicate on the side or whether this had all been one big misunderstanding.
The train screeched around a corner as if to say,Fat chance, sweetheart.
