Titus Page 3

  Chapter 5

  "All right, let's get this started," Noah said.

  Macy crouched in the dark, hoping no one would come or go from the silo. Opening the front door just a crack, she decided if someone did find her, she could claim she tripped on her way outside. It seemed plausible as the small entryway became immersed in blackness when both doors remained closed.

  "We had four murders last night," he continued. "The police chief is putting out a midnight curfew, which has the restaurants and bars in a snit. Those two hours before the two a.m. last call bring in a lot of business for them."

  "Everyone's trying to get enough food in them so the hangover won't be too bad the next day," Blake commented.

  "Or, they don't care about the hangover and want to make sure they are good and sauced before heading home," Jovan countered.

  A few chuckles emanated from the vent.

  "Blake, pull up the crime scene photos the police sent over."

  It remained silent for a few moments, then someone said, "Oh, man. That's some nasty shit."

  She shut her eyes and tried to imagine what they could be looking at. Someone decapitated? Hung?

  "Yeah, it is," Noah continued. "But look beyond the gore at this part of the picture."

  "That's fucking ash," Hudson said.

  When a Colonist killed someone, they left a black ash behind. Her brow furrowed. The Colonist, Daniel, hadn't been spotted for over a year, nor had there been any indication that he had been responsible for any of the murders in the city. They'd been going on the assumption that he had his followers do his killing.

  "Am I correct to assume you haven't seen anything like this in a while?" Kade asked.

  Noah sighed. "Yes, you are."

  "So what does it mean?" Kade continued.

  "It means that our Colonist has come out of hiding and wants to play," Hudson said.

  "One thing you need to understand is that they are true sociopaths. We knew he'd eventually make an appearance because he can't stay away from the limelight. It probably drove him crazy that these murders were being reported on, but he wasn't responsible for any of them," Nico explained. "He gets a thrill from killing, and there's only so long before he has to give in to the base urges."

  She shut her eyes. The make-up of the Colonist terrified her, and she simply didn't understand the need to kill, especially when the need to heal seemed ingrained in her genetic make-up and embedded in her soul.

  "So we're doubling up on the patrols tonight," Noah said. "If he's out and about, we have a chance of killing him, and we can skip trying to catch the smaller fish."

  There were a few moments of quiet talk, and she stood.

  Just as she was about to leave, Noah asked, "Now, what's going on with Titus?"

  Sinking back down to the floor, she concentrated on what was said.

  "He's doing okay," Blake said. "He's still in a bad place."

  "He's not going to off himself or anything, right?" Noah asked.

  "I can't promise that," Hudson answered.

  "I just spent a shit-ton of money to have this place renovated. The last thing we need is brain matter all over the walls," Noah commented.

  "Have a little sympathy, Noah. The male has lost his mate," Kade said, his voice laced with anger.

  "I know. That was wrong. I'm just worried about him. He's in an ugly space, and I'm just trying to make light of the situation. Bad joke. I'm sorry."

  Quiet settled over the room, then Noah asked, "Do any of you think he'll ever be well enough to help us in our fight? It would be good to have another body out on patrols."

  "He's definitely strong enough physically," Blake said.

  "Agreed," Roman concurred. "It's what's going on between his ears that we need to worry about."

  "And that's where he needs to be the most stable," Chance added.

  "Axel, you've been quiet. What do you have to say?" Noah asked.

  After a brief pause, he spoke. "Not a lot. I agree with everything that's been said."

  "Okay. Everyone take it easy today, but be ready to hit it hard tonight," Noah said. "Anyone have anything else they’d like to add?"

  "Yes," Kade interjected. "I would like my own laptop to keep in my quarters, please."

  "For what? So you can watch more porn?" Blake asked.

  Laughter filled the room, and when it died down, Kade spoke up. "You're very funny, Blake. However, I would like the laptop to work on some computer programs at night when I can't sleep. It would be much easier for me to work on them in my room then to have to come up to the War Room."

  "Consider it done," Noah said. "Anything else?"

  "I could use some help down in the gym," Nico said. "Holly is coming over to train with Alaina and Annis. Somehow, I got elected to be in charge, and it would be nice to have someone else down there with me."

  "Should Annis be training yet?" Jovan asked.

  "I don't know. I leave that up to people who know a lot more about having babies than me," Nico answered. "Anyone want to help?"

  His plea was met with silence.

  "Screw you, guys," he finally said.

  "Ask Justice," Chance said. "He's hasn't been able to leave Holly's side, so I'm sure he'd be fine helping out. I've got important stuff to do."

  "Like what?" Nico asked.

  "I need a nap."

  Macy giggled, despite her attempt to be covert. She could use a nap, as well. Healing Roman had drained her.

  "Okay, everyone have a good day," Noah said when the laughter died down.

  Macy stood and scrambled into the kitchen.

  "Where were you?" Alaina said as Macy shut the door.

  "Oh, um ... just out for a quick walk."

  She didn't feel guilty about her eavesdropping. Perhaps the other females in the house were told what was going on during their pillow talk, but she had no one to share a bed with. She liked to be in the know, so she needed to resort to sneaky ways.

  "I think I'll go lie down," she announced before Alaina could question her further.

  As she rode the elevator down to her quarters, she considered what she'd heard. The thought of Titus going out on patrol made her stomach turn. She didn't think he would be strong enough physically, or mentally.

  Then she remembered she hadn't brought him breakfast.

  She sighed, but she needed to rest. She'd make sure he got lunch.

  Chapter 6

  Peace. He'd had so many hours of peace, he didn't know quite what to do with himself.

  His phone hadn't rung; no one had knocked at his door. Macy hadn't tried to shove food down his throat this morning. It had been blissfully silent since last night, and he'd done nothing but sleep and watch a little late night television.

  The infomercials during the night hours had been very tempting. The Psychic Network had almost convinced him to call in, and the Snuggie would be particularly functional during the winter months.

  He glanced over at the knife lying on his side table and thought about hanging himself with the belt of his robe. For someone who considered suicide so much, he surprised himself at his lack of follow-through.

  A knock sounded at the door, and he sighed. If he ignored them, perhaps they'd go away.

  "Titus! Let me in!"

  Crap.

  Irritation clawed at him as he pulled on his robe and opened the door. Macy stood there holding a tray filled with a turkey sandwich and a salad. Lunchtime.

  "I'm not hungry, Macy."

  She smiled, then pushed her way past him. "I couldn’t get my key in carrying this tray, and of course you’re hungry. You haven't even gotten out of bed yet, so I know you skipped breakfast."

  As she set the platter down on the table, his anger grew. Why couldn't these people just leave him alone?

  Tired of being helped, sick of being babied, and done being forced to do things he didn’t want to, something inside of him snapped.

  He took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice level. "Macy, please leave."


  She stared at him, confusion crossing her face.

  "I don't want you to feed me. I don't want you to heal me. In fact, I just want you to leave me alone."

  Pursing her lips, she crossed her arms over her chest, her feet firmly planted on the ground.

  She didn’t budge, but met his gaze with determination and defiance, which only made him madder.

  "Get out!" he yelled.

  She shook her head. "No. You need nourishment."

  His anger rose, and before he realized what he did, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to the door. "Leave!"

  Opening the door, he pushed her out toward the elevator.

  Instead of slinking off as he thought she would, she caught her footing and turned back to him. Before he could shut the door, she had come back into the room and slapped him across the face, her palm burning his cheek.

  "It's not all about you, Titus!" she screamed. "There are others here who have lost just as much as you, but we try to cope!"

  He stepped back in surprise. Never would he have thought she'd come at him like that, nor would he had believed she would slap him—or anyone, for that matter.

  "Instead of wallowing in your own pity, maybe you'd be best served by trying to help others!"

  Her words hit him like a fist to the gut. Where had the mousy little Healer gone? Before him stood a small woman with incredible hurt and anger written on her face, a direct contrast to the usually serene, calm features she held. He’d unleashed something within her he never imagined could be there.

  "When was the last time you asked someone how they were doing, and really listened for an answer?"

  The more she spoke, the smaller he felt.

  She glared at him, her breathing heavy.

  "That's what I thought, you selfish bastard! I lost everything coming here, Titus. Everyone I've ever loved was killed."

  As she paced the room, her anger took up far more space than her small frame. She wasn't meek and weak as he'd originally thought, but small in stature and a much bigger person than he ever could be. He felt humbled in his epiphany, and recognized he'd horribly misjudged her.

  She turned to him, tears welling in her eyes.

  "But I have been given the gift of life, just as you have been. You should have died out in that desert. Micah tried to kill you, but he didn't. Our gods wanted you to live, or they never would have sent Justice to you."

  He tore his gaze from her sad face and stared at the ground.

  "Yet, you continually focus on death."

  Of course he did. Sometimes, the need to die gripped him so strongly, he thought he would choke on it. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to actually end his existence.

  "Look around you!" she screamed. "Look, and you will see that there is life, and if you weren't so pig-headed, you'd realize your good fortune!"

  He brought his gaze to meet hers, his shame running deep. Tears streamed down her face, and she brushed them away.

  "You have so many people here wanting to help you, but yet, you can't even seem to make an effort to help yourself!"

  He had to try to make her understand. "Macy, my pain runs so deep. I lost my mate. I—”

  "And you think your pain overshadows everyone else's? Is that it? You've got the gold crown on the agony of loss? You're the top dog?"

  She shook her head, not giving him a chance to answer.

  "I'm done, Titus. I've cared for you for almost a year, and everyday, I hope that you will make some type of effort. Instead, Blake has to threaten you with all sorts of silly punishments. I have to practically shove food down your throat. Instead of showing just a little bit of gratitude that people actually care about you, you try to throw me out of your quarters."

  He stared at the floor, unable to meet her gaze as shame flooded through him. He felt much smaller than her five-foot-two frame.

  "Why do you think Chance is so angry? Or Axel is so quiet? You don't have the crown on suffering, Titus. And you want me out of your room? Fine, I'm leaving. Starve to death, because I’m done caring. I won’t be treated like this any longer."

  Brushing by him, she slammed the door, leaving him feeling as though he'd just been caught in a hurricane. His head spun while his heart thudded in his chest, and he fought to get air in his lungs.

  Her words stung, but he could recognize the truth in them. Yes, he had been so caught up in his own misery that he hadn't taken the time to realize that others had suffered debilitating losses, as well. Could he move past Simon's death?

  Hudson seemed to think so, and apparently, so did Macy.

  Instead of wallowing in your own pity, maybe you'd be best served by trying to help others.

  He sighed and crawled back into bed, sandwiched between guilt and shame.

  He shouldn't have grabbed Macy the way he had, and he shouldn't have talked to her so harshly.

  Tears brimmed in his eyes as he thought of how upset Simon would have been with him. One should never treat a female the way he had.

  Macy's strength had surprised him. He'd always thought of her as weak and mousy as she tended to be quiet. However, her spirit was far stronger than his own, and he felt like the weak and mousy one.

  He reached over and turned off the lamp, lying in the dark.

  "Please, give me strength," he whispered.

  He didn't know who he spoke to, but it felt good to say the words because for the first time since Justice had found him, he'd asked for help.

  Chapter 7

  Macy rushed to her room one floor down from Titus', hoping she wouldn't run into anyone. To be certain, she took the stairs and arrived in her quarters winded, upset, and blind from her tears.

  She swiped her hands across her face, again trying to pinpoint exactly what she felt. Rage. Sorrow. Guilt. Shame.

  How could she have spoken to Titus that way? She'd been born a Healer. It had become part of her very nature to take care of others, and she'd lost it with him. Where had the anger come from? Possibly because he wallowed in his self-pity, yet she woke everyday and tried to smile and put one foot in front of the other? That she made an effort at living her life? That she felt so very alone on this planet, even though she was surrounded by others?

  Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm down. She simply wouldn't feel sorry for herself.

  She moved into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. After blotting the moisture away, she stared at herself in the mirror.

  A simple green sundress hung from her thin frame. Her brown hair fell to her chin in straight strands. As she studied her dark eyes, pale skin, and bland features, she knew there would never be anything special about her looks. She definitely would never describe herself as pretty, like Abby, or even mysteriously gorgeous, like Annis and Alaina. Each of the females in the house radiated their own special beauty, but she just seemed so ... boring. There wasn't anything special about her face or her too-thin body.

  And she was okay with that.

  Although the other females may be beautiful or foreign and glamorous, none of them possessed the gift of healing. None of them could take their energy and place it in another body and mend bones or lacerations.

  That would always be her beauty.

  A knock on the door startled her, and she quickly ran a brush through her hair. She still looked as though she'd been crying, but she smiled. She wouldn't cave into her own heartbreak.

  "Annis!" she cried after opening the door. "Come in! What can I do for you?"

  Annis stepped in holding her infant, Michael, swaddled and wrapped up tight in a blue blanket, a diaper bag slung over her shoulder. She wore a pair of leggings, a tank top, and her running shoes. Her jet-black hair hung over her shoulder in a thick braid, and she seemed tired. She glanced around Macy's quarters then her brow furrowed as she studied her.

  "Have you been crying, Macy? Are you okay?"

  Macy smiled. "I did shed some tears earlier, but I'm fine. What do you need?"

  Annis glanced down at Michael.
"I was wondering if you could watch Michael for a little bit."

  Excitement welled within her. This would be exactly what she needed—to spend some time with a new life. Michael represented so much to her: hope, love, and the future.

  She held out her arms. "I would love to."

  As Annis placed the bundle in her hold, she inhaled deeply, loving the scent of innocence. He opened his eyes and gazed up at her, then shut them again.

  "He's been a little fussy today, but you have such a calm way about you, I thought he'd be fine with you."

  She stared at his full cheeks and sweet little button nose. Thanks to Annis’ mate, Cohen, his tawny skin was a few shades lighter than his mother’s, yet Macy thought Michael resembled Annis around the eyes. "I'm honored you asked."

  She swayed right to left and a feeling of peace came over her.

  "If I don't exercise soon, I feel as though I may lose my mind."

  Macy nodded and met her gaze. "How are you feeling?"

  "I'm tired, but well, thank you. Cohen has been healing me, and he and Beverly have cleared me to start working out again."

  Beverly, Hudson's mate, was a doctor and had come in very handy with taking care of the females’ needs of the house, as well as helping Macy and Cohen with injuries sustained during patrols.

  Annis' pregnancy and the birth had been drama-free and easy for her. When they'd announced their son would be called Michael, a few of the SR44ians had scoffed at such a ‘human’ name. But then, Annis and Cohen had revealed that Michael was the Patron Saint of Battles, and they’d all agreed it fit perfectly.

  "Well, I would love to spend some time with the saintly little boy."

  Annis laid her hand on Macy's shoulder. "Thank you. I've brought some diapers and a bottle in case he wakes up."

  Annis stepped over to the bed and placed the bag on it.