Pissed didn’t even begin to fully explain how Alana was feeling.

Down from the ceiling she yanked the attic stairs with a vengeance that nearly snapped the string in half. The narrow space above the rafters wasn’t somewhere the tenants were supposed to store things, but when she’d moved into Taylor’s tiny living space, she hadn’t been left with many options.

There were some things that simply weren’t made to be left lying around.

Into the cold, dusty attic she heaved herself, into a low crawl across the spaced out beams. One wrong step would send her crashing down through the ceiling, not that the damage could really do much to ruin her reputation now.

This wasn’t how she’d wanted Taylor to learn the truth.

Her teeth grit in a mash of upset and guilt as she reached the chest she’d barely hefted up into the space all on her own. Padlocked tight and warded with magic, she fumbled with the combination before finally, it clicked free.

Grumbling a low string of obscenities beneath her breath, she flung the lid open and narrowed her eyes into the chest. In the low light it was hard to see what was there, but she recalled vividly the myriad of weapons she’d stashed away that weren’t entirely necessary in the mortal world. Sifting through, she two elixirs, chalk, a rune dagger and tucked them near to the attic’s exit.

The moment she pulled out the last one and let the trunk swing closed, another creak from somewhere below left her breath held tight in her chest.

“Alana?”

Her teeth grit upon hearing Jaxon’s voice. Who the hell did the asshole think he was, showing up after everything that had happened? Anger fueled her exit, as she hurriedly crawled back to the safety of the stairs and dragged her weapons down with her.

“What in the fuck are you doing here?” She snapped the moment she stepped low enough for him to come into sight.

“What?” His word escaped him on the exhale of an angered breath. “If you answered my calls I wouldn’t have needed to!”

“Oh, right.” She shoved past him with a slam of her shoulder. “So, this is all my fault, isn’t it? Fucking typical.” Onto the table she dropped her weapons to better take stock of what she had, and what she just might need.

Jaxon had other ideas.

Taking hold of her arm, he spun her in place and stepped forward, pinning her tight against the table. “I’m trying to save your ass. That’s all I’ve been trying to do.”

“If that was the case,” she growled while her hands tightened to fists, “then why the hell didn’t you let me go after Damon when I had the chance? Oh, right, because you’re a goddamn liar.” With the flats of her palms she shoved against his chest, forcing him off of her. Across the room she stalked, to snatch up her phone. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d need it, but it seemed a reason good as any to shove him away.

“Would you stop being so blind?”

Fueled by anger, she stalked back to the table and again eyed her arsenal. Question was, would she be able to kill him before he could kill her? Being the end of him had the potential to bring her a hell of a lot of pride and relief, but she wasn’t certain of the odds. Not to mention that would be putting Taylor’s life on the line.

“I swear it, I’ve been trying to keep the both of you safe,” he reiterated, drawing a vapid stare from Alana. “Why don’t you trust me?”

“Oh,” she flippantly remarked, “I’m supposed to trust you because we almost screwed? Is that it?”

“What? Why would you-”

From the depths of her pocket her phone’s shrill cry pierced the air, silencing his pleading question. Too pissed off to even care what the interruption could mean, she stalked away from him while thrusting the phone to her ear.

“Alana,” she snapped in greeting.

Before he even spoke, she knew it was Mason. She’d know the anticipatory draw of his breath anywhere. “What in the hell have you gotten yourself into now?”

“Excuse me?” She had plenty of answers to the question, but none that she felt like sharing in the moment.

“You need to get down here to headquarters, now. Someone reported you for being on a scene you were no longer cleared for. I’ve read it, Alana. You were sneaking around in the mansion? For what? Shits and giggles?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly it,” she hissed, before her shoulders slumped with the rush of an exhaled sigh. “I don’t have time for this right now.”

“You don’t have a choice. You need to come in now to be questioned and cleared. Don’t keep me waiting.”

The line went dead, and in her hand she cradled the phone while staring at it with another death wish. Everything was culminating into one giant shit storm and suddenly she realized the odds of making it out unscathed were dwindling to nothing.

“What was that?” Jaxon asked with the first bit of hesitance she’d ever heard come out of his mouth.

“Nothing,” she snapped, but it was everything. Disobeying Mason’s order meant turning her back on her probationary agreement, which inevitably would mean trading her freedom for jail, not to mention an extension on her sentence due to disobedience.

The latter though, seemed a worse option. Going meant keeping her freedom from a life behind bars, while waiting on the sidelines for her sister to die. Hell, she could have been dead already, but there was that small chance of hope that Alana still clung to.

It wasn’t a difficult choice, she knew what she had to do. Shoving her phone back into her pocket, she made her way back to the table and began to load up.