This was still Cord’s story to tell. And maybe she was right, I couldn’t expect her to put it all aside, not even for all of us.
“I can’t force you to step down, to name a successor, any easier than I can force her to accept it,” I said. “But I know what you’re up to and it won’t work. Don’t bother volunteering yourself for your little plan. I’m officially vetoing it. Just like I vetoed severing the bond. I’m on to you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I saw your idea,” I said. “And you’re not getting anywhere near Cord. Besides, even if you did, she’ll never agree. She doesn’t want the job and even if she did, she would never take it from you and secretly give it back once the danger passed. She’s not you. Not even a little.”
I rose, knocking the chair out of my way. Steppe didn’t offer an argument. I hadn’t expected him to. Mentally, he shrank back to his side of things and I stalked out.
Behind me, the door opened again and I heard, “Wait.”
I turned and found Logan with his head sticking out of the bedroom door. I folded my arms, half-expecting some “let’s keep this little chat between us” pep talk.
“You could actually force him, you know,” he said.
“What? How?” I asked.
He slipped all the way out and shut the door behind him. “Cambria could compel him,” he said.
“No way,” I said immediately. “She was weird the last time, remember? The drinking, the compelling all the time. She hates to use it ever since Miles.”
“She’d do it. For you,” he said. Something about his expression suggested more than just friendship and loyalty.
“Me?”
“You should talk to her. She could use an assignment to distract her,” he added.
I frowned. “Do you know something I don’t?”
“Just talk to Cambria. I’ve gotta get back.” He started for the door.
“Hey, Logan,” I said and waited for him to turn back. “Speaking of distractions, I know there’s a lot going on but I just wanted you to know I’m sorry ... about your dad.”
Logan’s features hardened into some practiced expression. “Thanks,” he said flatly, but his pupils dilated and I knew he wasn’t as okay as he pretended.
“He really loved you,” I said.
His eyes flashed. “Is that why he betrayed me and all of my friends? For love?”
“He thought he was on the side of right,” I said quietly.
“He was wrong.”
I nodded and awkward silence fell between us. I was struck by how much Logan had always taken care of me and this was the first moment I’d ever felt our roles reversed. Without a word, I reached out and put my arms around him in a hug.
Logan stiffened and then his arms came around me and he squeezed me back. We stood that way for a long moment, the gesture conveying all of the words our tongues couldn’t. I stepped back just in time to see him swipe the back of his hand over his cheek.
He cleared his throat as he turned to go. “Oh, and if you see Fee, tell her the patient could use some of that tea that tastes like feet.”
“He isn’t in pain,” I said, feeling for anything I might’ve missed.
“I know.” Logan smiled. “I just want to see his face when he’s forced to drink it.”
“I worry about you,” I said, but mostly I was relieved.
“Cambria’s influence is finally rubbing off,” he replied before disappearing back inside with the prisoner. I laughed and went in search of horrible tea.
Chapter Twenty
Wes gave up his spot in bed that night for extra patrols. I replaced him with Cambria. On the other side of the closed door, footsteps passed back and forth in regular intervals.
Heels, boots, and house slippers all came and went until all hours. My mother checked on us twice until she realized Wes really was outside watching the house instead of hiding under the bed. Cambria kept calling me back, fussing at me when the bond or a passing set of footsteps distracted me from the two of us practicing for her new assignment.
“Go get me a pet unicorn. Now,” Cambria said.
“What? No,” I protested.
“Really, you’re not even tempted?” she asked, more suspicious than disappointed.
“Not even a little,” I assured her.
“Good, so the compulsion isn’t bleeding over.” Another pair of heavy footsteps passed our room. The door at the end of the hall clicked open. Voices drifted out before the door clicked shut again.
“Do you think it’ll work?” she asked me.
“I think we could always find another way,” I said.
Cambria looked at me through the mirror, where she sat braiding thin pieces of her currently magenta-streaked hair. “I told you, I want to do this before I go. It was my choice.”
“I know that, I just...” I picked up a hot-pink tee strategically ripped in places and set it back down on the pile of clothes on the bed. Apparently, Cambria’s version of packing was a massive laundry dump. “I just hate when you put yourself out there for me.”
“It beats putting yourself out there for someone else,” she muttered.
I tried to catch her eye again but she was furiously concentrating on her braiding.
“What did your mom say?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“Cam.”
“No, really. Nothing. I tried calling her back after I talked to you and she didn’t answer. Still hasn’t.” She frowned. “But that’s my mom for you. It’s hit or miss. She’ll resurface. Always does. Anyway, this isn’t about her.”
“What’s it about?” I asked, remembering Logan’s words from before about Cambria needing a distraction. Cambria continued braiding and avoiding my eyes. “Cam, whatever it is, you can talk to me.”
“It’s Derek,” she said finally.
“What do you mean?” I sat up straighter. Problems in paradise for those two were a first. Cambria had definitely played the field before him, but from the moment they’d met, it had been true love. Or lust that became love. Either way, Cambria had never mentioned problems before.
“What happened?” I asked when she didn’t answer.
“This new law happened,” she said. “Angry Werewolves happened. Steppe happened.” She dropped the half-done braid and turned on her stool to face me. “Last night’s attack and the one before in the parking lot ... these aren’t the first we’ve encountered. After you were taken ... The Cause was on some sort of hit list. Derek and Jack and Fee. Wes—all of them had to run. It wasn’t just Steppe. Everyone hated us.”
She stared at a picture hanging on the wall behind me, but I had a feeling she wasn’t really seeing it. Her mouth tightened as she went on, “I’m a good fighter. I would’ve stayed. And I’m not mad at him for making me go back to school. He was only trying to make me safe, but...”
“But what?”
“Derek was on his way to drop me off at Wood Point when we got the call you’d escaped,” she said. “That’s why we were so close by and together.”
“And that’s why Logan was with you,” I guessed. “He was taking you both back.”
“Kane only showed up here because Flaherty called him to let him know we wouldn’t be coming after all.”
“Were you guys going to break up?” I asked quietly.
“Chances of survival for a Hunter and Werewolf relationship aren’t exactly ideal under the current circumstances.” Her hands sat limp in her lap. I hated the defeated way she talked, but I understood it. My heart broke for what she was losing because of the state of relations between the races. It was everything we’d been fighting against for so long.
“How does Derek feel about it all?” I asked.
“Frustrated. Angry, like me. He gets messages about us. About how he’s betraying his kind ... He’s just trying to protect me.”
“Is that why you agreed to go back to Wood Point?” I asked. “I mean, it wasn’t because you thought it
was best, since my mom suggested it?”
“Your mom didn’t suggest it but she didn’t talk me out of it,” she said. “It was my idea. Derek and I just need to be apart for now. For everyone’s sake.” Her expression turned to pleading. “You know I want to stay and fight with you, but ... I couldn’t forgive myself if something happened to him as a result of our being together. And it’s really painful to be close to him if we’re not ...”
“I know, Cam. It’s okay,” I assured her. “I actually thought this was ... never mind, it’s dumb.”
“Let me guess. You thought I was taking your mom’s side or something, right?”
“Am I that obvious?”
Cambria shook her head. “I’m on your side. Why would you think otherwise?”
“I don’t know.” I picked up another shirt and then threw it back on the pile in front of me. “It’s my mom. She’s been so weird, lately. Trying to take over or something.”
“She’s worried about you,” Cambria said—and something about the certainty in her words gave me pause.
“You sound really sure,” I said.
“Well, duh. She’s your mom.”
“Hmm.”
“Stop reading into things and just talk to her,” she added.
“Fine, I’ll talk to my mom if you promise to do something for me,” I said.
“Anything.”
I smiled. “Fix Victoria.”
“Hell to the no. Anything but that.”
“Cam, she’s broken. You’ve seen her. Steppe did a number on her and no one deserves that mess. She needs fixing and she’s headed back to school with you. You’re great at pulling people out of their shells. Please.”
“Tay, it’s Vic the Sick,” Cambria pouted. “Do you remember how she was last year with the bullying? It sucked like a Dyson in steroids. Please don’t make me do this.”
“People change,” I reminded her. She scowled. “Logan will appreciate you more.”
She gave me a dubious look. “And that’s supposed to motivate me how?”
“Good karma,” I tried.
“I’m an atheist,” she said.
“That’s not...” I shook my head. “I promise to make sure Derek doesn’t cozy up to anyone else while you’re gone.”
Cambria was quiet for a moment. Underneath our banter I could see her hurting at the thought of leaving Derek behind. But this was Cambria. Tough—and in her weakest vulnerability, there was always a joke. I let her have this one. “Deal,” she said. “And if he does get cozy, you’ll bite his Werewolf legs off at the kneecaps and give them to Astor for prosthetic experimentation?”
“Absolutely. What are friends for?” I said.
She grinned. “Indeed.”
Chapter Twenty-one
Arctic Monkeys were the perfect blend of listening but not letting it soak in. Cambria would’ve yelled at me to turn it up if she knew I’d even allowed the bits of conversation to flow in around the ear buds she’d forced on me at dawn.
Cambria awake at dawn—now that was the real headline.
“...heard anything from Headmaster Whitfield,” Professor Flaherty said from the front seat of the van on Friday morning. She sat shotgun, Kane’s navigator. Beside me, Wes had one arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders, as if cuddling would somehow create world peace. But I didn’t pull away—just in case he was right.
On my other side, my mom was a stiff wall of listening in and “insert opinion here.” Behind me, Grandma called out her two cents to Professor Flaherty’s update on the Inquiry Board investigating Steppe. “Should’ve had Elizabeth do the honors,” she said snarkily. “I suspect he’d have answered on the first ring.”
I pretended not to hear.
My mother broke her stillness to twist around, a glare perfectly aimed. But Grandma snorted and I knew the look she wore would be one of carelessness. The one person in the world these two women weren’t scared of was each other.
Steppe could learn a thing or two.
As quickly as I thought it, I zipped my mental lips shut. But it didn’t matter. He was secured three cars behind us, tucked in with Derek and George, probably shoulder to shoulder with his new bestie Cambria herself. More importantly, he was under the heaviest dosing of compulsion Cambria knew how to give. And I was currently operating under a mental gag order: think quiet thoughts.
I wondered who’d been voluntold with the job of informing Cord of Steppe’s impending announcement to name his successor. I tried convincing myself she couldn’t be mad. I’d respected her wishes, she couldn’t be mad. It wasn’t her.
Thank God it wasn’t me, either.
“The others have been notified,” Kane said. “They’ve agreed to bear witness. And to spread the word to their contacts.”
“And you think they’ll come through?” Professor Flaherty asked. “That it’ll be enough to enforce the changes, including his successor being outside his family line?”
“Two days wasn’t very long to organize this thing, but I think they’ll come through,” Kane said. I sat behind him, and through the far edge of the rearview mirror, I saw him glance at her with a stoic expression. “If nothing else, they’ll want to see the show.”
Professor Flaherty snorted. “Wouldn’t Steppe love to know he’s been demoted to nothing more than a sideshow,” she said.
“He’s never been the main event,” Grandma said from behind me. “And that’s always been his problem. It’s why he wouldn’t leave The Cause alone. The unworthy always feel threatened by the true leaders. The world changers. This car’s full of them. He’s always hated that.”
“In the meantime,” Fee said, “I would feel better if we could count on the audience we need. The new law, even if it’s only to rescind an old one, can only be recognized if there are ample witnesses, yes?”
“It’s more than rescinding if Lexington’s being named successor,” Jack said.
“I still can’t believe we’re letting him take the reins,” Wes said.
We’ll have the witnesses we need,” Grandma said. “Alex has gone ahead to make sure of it. Don’t you worry. And Lexington isn’t a concern. He’ll do the right thing for his daughter. I think he’s more than proven that.”
“The important thing is the legal recording,” Professor Flaherty explained. She glanced at me and then back to Fee. I kept my head down, pretending to be wrapped up in my music. I shouldn’t have been listening—but I couldn’t help it.
“With The Draven,” Fee said, “Right?”
“Not just any Draven. The official Draven for CHAS, the one that has been passed from generation to generation of leaders,” Professor Flaherty explained.
“Don’t forget Steppe’s blood,” Jack said from the far end of the bench seat behind me. He sounded almost gleeful and I couldn’t blame him an inch for it. But his anxiety showed through and I hated how they all spoke with the same hint of worry.
“We won’t forget,” Fee said wryly.
“Damn right,” Grandma muttered. I almost sat up at that. Grandma cussing meant she was seriously worried.
“This is only going to work if the new law is written into the official Draven of the CHAS leadership while those in charge bear witness,” my mother said. In her lap, her folded hands twisted the edge of her jacket in a tight wad.
I reached over and covered my hands with hers. Our eyes met and I tried for a reassuring smile, but I only made it halfway before the images bombarded me. I gasped, rocking at the intensity of them.
These were not the foggy layered dreams I’d had when Steppe had held me prisoner. These were not the nightmares I’d woken from in the bedroom at Professor Flaherty’s. These were real; living, breathing—memories. Only they couldn’t possibly have happened yet. And they weren’t coming through the bond; these stemmed directly from my own subconscious.
One by one, they bombarded me until they’d sucked me right in and I became a part of them. Not just a guest, a participant. A roomful of Werewolves, hot with the
heavy breath of a growling force. The room itself glowed with the fierceness of the yellowed eyes glinting back at me, at each other. One pack, sinewy and rugged with a sly look in their angry eyes as they faced off with another pack. The second pack broader, bigger, stronger than the first. Steppe standing at the front of the first, his glittering smile so full of victory it made my chest hurt. And the other—Who was the alpha for this one?
In the center of the room I spun in a panicky circle trying—and failing—to spot the alpha. Like the note had predicted, war was in this room. I could taste it.
I heard the gasp from far away and the vision was sucked sideways while I somehow managed to stay behind. The feeling was like a river rushing away from the edge of the falls—dropping into thin air before it vanished. I came aware, still gasping, and realized a moment later, the noise had been my own breath all along.
“Tara,” my mom was saying, shaking my wrists. “Tara, wake up,” she pleaded.
Wes still had his arm wound protectively around my shoulders. He peered down at me anxiously with knitted brows and shallow breaths. As the vision cleared away, I caught and held his gaze. “What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked.
“Don’t give in to the panic,” my mom said. “It’s not real.”
I cut away from Wes long enough to study my mother. “How do you know?” I asked.
She hesitated and something foreign clicked inside my gut. Some strange puzzle piece I hadn’t known I was missing. I filed it away for later and turned back to Wes, who was still demanding answers. No one else spoke. Every spare eye was trained on me. “I’m fine,” I told him and then again to the rest of the van. “I’m fine. I fell asleep and had a bad dream,” I said. My mother relaxed.
Slowly, the tension in the air dissipated.
Someone’s phone rang.
“Hello?” Jack said from behind me.
A pause and then, “We understand. No, this is not an attempt to realign—”
Broken Blood Page 20
