“Tara, headphones,” my mom whispered.
I sighed and reinserted the ear buds that had come out when I’d begun flailing. Over the sound of Vance Joy singing about whose mess this was anyway, Jack’s deep baritone bled through. And I let it.
“Yes, that’s fine. All we’re asking is that you bear witness,” Jack said. And after a pause, “It’s not about their laws. We need you to bear witness for the purpose of goodwill. The law will be rescinded. He will step down.”
Werewolves, I realized, trying my best to keep my thoughts muted just in case. They were going to ask Werewolves to bear witness to this. Would that put them in the same room as where we were headed? Like my dream just now?
Of all the times to be kept in the dark...
I resisted the urge to sit up and listen harder or demand answers I’d already agreed not to be told. This would only work if Cambria’s compulsion held, if I muted my end of the bond, and filled any connection or influence that might be left with white noise.
Determined to hold up my end, I resettled myself into my earlier position, tucked into the crook of Wes’s shoulder, and focused on the music. It lulled me.
I dozed and woke with no sense of time or place.
The sky was streaked with slanted sunlight and the traffic was thick. The clock on the dashboard put it at the early side of rush hour. We were nearing the city.
At the sight of the familiar skyscrapers in the distance, the sea of brake lights and never-ending construction zones, my stomach cramped. I remembered the conversation I’d overheard earlier. About The Draven, the official book for recording our laws. Steppe would’ve kept it close to him. Almost as close as he’d kept me for those weeks...
I realized where we were going. We were returning to the site of my prison. We were going to CHAS headquarters. The drive in had been far less eventful than my journey out—or maybe that was the benefit of my checking out in favor of the music. Had this really been the way I’d operated for months once? Back when all those voices had risen to a crescendo, before I’d learned how to control the mental demands of my pack in order to be the alpha.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
Leo. Miles. Liliana—that accidental meeting in the alley one night. The first night. The encounter that had changed everything.
Except that, according to Steppe, it had been no accident. Neither was the choice Vera had insisted I make.
None of this was.
It was coming for me no matter what I did. Liliana had been a catalyst, but she wasn’t the cause. I sat up enough to glance at my mom. Her head pressed against the glass of the window beside her as she dozed.
For once, the worry lines in her face were relaxed.
I leaned closer and caught the scent of oven cleaner and smiled. Some things never changed. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe that was life. Nothing was permanent, not really. Not the past, not that fear and uncertainty I’d felt that night in the alley, not the worry I’d felt over Wes that night I’d driven off in his car and left him to fight Leo’s Werewolf minion by himself or the countless other times we’d faced danger together or apart.
I snuggled closer to Wes and felt his hand wrap tighter around my shoulder, squeezing lightly in that protective way he had. I turned my face toward his shirt and inhaled the musky scent that was his animal and human intertwined. Nope, that hadn’t changed either. I still remembered it like it was that first night. Muscle memory.
So many things felt like ancient history and yet simultaneously like they’d just happened yesterday. I thought about that as we exited the highway and drove over a bridge with a lion’s head statue on either side of the gateway ahead. When our tires crossed onto pavement, we were here.
DC.
I was back.
And rooted, for better or worse, in the here and now.
I wound my fingers around a handful of shirt and Wes looked down at me. “You’re awake,” he said. I hesitated, unsure if I should turn up my music or admit I’d paused it.
“You can take a break from the tunes,” he said.
I sat up and slipped the ear buds out.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“I think so. Surprised I was able to sleep,” I said. I glanced behind me and found Grandma, Jack, and Fee typing on their phones. In the front seat, Professor Flaherty did the same. All of them wore matching frowns of concentration.
“What did I miss?” I asked lightly—we both knew he wouldn’t tell me.
“A bathroom break,” he said. “Candy bar?” He held up two choices.
“Caramel,” I said.
“Figured.” He smiled and handed it over. “The other one was for me.”
We ate a few bites in silence as Kane took us farther into downtown and then, slowly, out the other side again. We crossed New York Avenue and kept going, the route quickly becoming familiar.
I lowered the candy bar. “We’re going back there, aren’t we?” I asked quietly.
Behind me, the telltale sounds of buttons being pressed went silent.
“Yes,” Wes said finally.
“Are there ... How many others are meeting us?” I asked, trying to figure out a way to ask my question that would solicit a real answer. “Werewolves, I mean. How many of them?”
“None,” Wes said.
“What?” I looked up at him and back at Grandma. “Why not? I thought you—”
“We’re going to broadcast Steppe’s speech via a live internet link. That way, everyone who needs to see it will, and we’ll all be safe.” He leaned in close. “You’ll be safe,” he added.
I stared at him. “We’re going to rescind the law, save the world, via a webinar?” I deadpanned.
Wes sat back and fought a smile. “I knew you’d be excited. See, Edie?”
“It’s the safest route,” Grandma said and went back to her typing.
I shook my head and twisted to glance at Fee. She shrugged. Jack blinked back at me. “This is not about you,” he said sternly. “I don’t feel like getting shot again.”
I smiled. “Of course.”
“If you’re going to argue, you can just put your ear thingies back in,” Grandma said.
“No,” I protested. “I’ve listened to my entire play list twice.”
“Ornery. Just like your mother,” she grumbled but I caught her smile.
Kane circled left and we pulled into a deserted lot and stopped. Outside, a gray building loomed up, unassuming, nondescript—basically, terrifying.
My breath caught as I read the sign that advertised CHAS headquarters to the outside world: Council for Himalayan Affairs and Security. C.H.A.S. It would’ve been amusing if I’d been able to see it as anything other than my prison.
My pulse sped.
“It’s okay. No one in there can hurt you,” Wes said as the other filed out.
“I’m not worried,” I lied.
Outside, the rest of our caravan joined us in the otherwise deserted lot. From the middle car—Grandma’s Hummer—Mr. Lexington, Victoria, Astor, and Logan climbed out. The last car was crammed tight with Derek, George, Emma, and Cambria—with Steppe bound and sandwiched between the girls in the back. Cambria had insisted, despite her better judgment, the compulsion would work best if they were in direct contact.
I felt for her.
The group assembled slowly, most eyes trained on Grandma. Hers, however, were trained on Mr. Lexington. “Can you still get in?” she asked.
“I would think so. It’s not like Gordon’s been around to change the codes,” he said, making his way to the double doors that led inside.
A block letter sign read “Staff Only” and below it in small lettering, “No Admittance. Secured Building. Government Officials Only.”
“Pretty much any variation of Don’t Feel Welcome Here,” Wes commented.
Up ahead, the door clicked and Mr. Lexington held it open. One by one, we filed inside.
The lobby was sparsely furnished with gleaming tile floors, t
asteful but forgettable artwork, and not a single reception desk in sight. The only next step was another set of doors directly across from where we’d entered. This was, apparently, nothing more than a landing pad. And without a receptionist in sight, I could only assume there had once been security of some sort and now—
“The security force—what was left of them—we found downstairs a few days ago when we came to retrieve Olivia,” Mr. Lexington explained.
“Can you check to make sure the building hasn’t been accessed since you were here?” Grandma asked.
“Security booth is this way,” Mr. Lexington said.
“Jack,” Grandma began.
“On it,” Jack said, already falling into step with Mr. Lexington.
Grandma turned to Kane and Professor Flaherty. “We’ll need to search and secure the perimeter before we go live.”
“We’re on it,” Kane said.
“We can help,” Derek said, stepping forward with George beside him.
“No, I need you two on Steppe. Don’t let him leave your sight,” Grandma said.
Derek nodded, but George hesitated and glanced at me. “Do what she says,” I told him, biting back a smile at his confusion. No matter who tried giving orders, I was his leader and a part of me—the alpha part—loved knowing that. They filed back outside to get Steppe from the car.
“Everyone else, let’s get inside and set up,” Grandma said. She gestured to a set of doors in the center of the row facing set we’d come in.
Steppe’s glare looked frozen in place as he was led inside and the sunlight abruptly cut away as the door shut behind him. His sweater was crooked and his pants wrinkled but mostly, the brooding grimace he aimed at everyone except Cambria told me all I needed to know about his opinion of the plan. He would do it, but he didn’t like it.
“You doing okay?” Wes whispered in my ear as the group dispersed and got to work.
“I’m fine, I told you,” I said, but my shoulder blades were firmly pressed against the wall just inside the door. Just the thought of moving deeper into the building set me on edge. I tried to take a deep breath, but it got stuck in my chest.
Wes grabbed my hand and led me along the wall into the corner. “Tara,” he said, brushing his thumb across my cheek as he cupped my face. “You don’t have to be fine. You don’t have to always be the one taking care of everyone else. It’s okay to let us take care of you once in a while.”
He was right, of course. I’d agreed to step aside and stay out of the plans for today, knowing that was the best way for Cambria’s compulsion to work. But it was one thing to stand by and another to actively relinquish the reins.
I stayed quiet and when I didn’t readily supply whatever answer Wes was looking for, his gaze dropped to my cheeks, my mouth, my neck, before returning to my eyes again. And just like that, I forgot what we were discussing. All I could see was his mouth forming an unspoken question.
I was so caught.
After all this time, the mere sight of Wesley St. John, up close and personal, was enough to send my knees buckling. My muscles went liquidy and it was like an organic truth serum had leaked into my heart and escaped through my open mouth. “I’m scared,” I admitted.
Instead of judgment or pity, Wes looked back at me with relief.
“Don’t look so happy about it,” I grumbled.
He smiled. “I’m just a little shocked you actually admitted it. I thought it would be much harder than this.”
“I’m getting better at admitting my faults,” I said.
“We’re both improving,” he said. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I don’t know how it’s supposed to help,” I grumbled.
Wes leaned in and pressed a kiss to my lips. “It allows me to be here for you,” he whispered, his lips brushing mine as he spoke. “It allows me to rescue you. Something I never get to do.”
I smiled ruefully. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. I love your strength. I always have. It’s what attracted me to you in the first place. But that just means I love it even more when you show vulnerability and let me take care of you. I have an idea,” he said.
“What?” I asked, wary at the way his eyes lit up when he said the word “vulnerability.”
“You and I can watch Steppe’s speech via the video feed from the parking lot. We’ll act as lookout for the perimeter so we’ll be doing something helpful but we won’t have to spend another minute inside this building.”
“Wes, I don’t know,” I said.
He leaned in and pressed his nose to my cheek. “Come on. Edie’s got this one. Let her have it. By tomorrow, you’ll be back in charge. With any luck, we both will, and after that, we won’t have this luxury. And besides, if I play my cards right, I’m hoping I can multi-task and use the time to make out with you.”
My lips twitched. “You seriously think they’ve got this covered? That we won’t be missed if we wait outside?”
“More than covered. Besides, it’s no secret where we’re filming from. Or it won’t be once the feed goes live. Another body or two watching the exits would be a big help. What do you say?”
How did he expect me to say anything other than yes when he looked at me with those doe eyes? I sighed. “Let’s do it,” I said.
Wes grinned and planted a lingering kiss before wandering off to inform Grandma. I swayed where I stood, happily buzzed from the after-effects of Wes and his mouth. If this was what it felt like to admit my fears, I’d spill my guts every day of forever.
Chapter Twenty-two
Wes and I ended up in the backseat of the Hummer. Leather seats made warm by a layer of blankets Wes found in the back and enough room to stretch out but hidden behind the window tinting. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to cuddle up in the back of Mr. Lexington’s creeper van and Derek’s car was way too small.
We’d spent the last hour cuddling, kissing, and reassuring each other every acorn that fell on the hood wasn’t a pack of Werewolves here to kill us. I was jumpy, though. Even parked safely outside CHAS and with everyone I knew already settled inside to protect me, I couldn’t stop seeing memories of my confinement every time I looked up at the plain gray walls.
I’d dialed back from Gordon’s awareness as much as I could, opting instead to let Cambria have control of his thoughts—and his willpower. So far, everything I allowed myself to read from him was wrapped up in what he would say when the cameras went live. I sensed a deeper part of him that was aware of his coercion and the controlled fury he felt over what he was being made to say, but Cambria’s abilities were strong. Stronger than I’d realized until now.
I was proud of her, but not without also feeling a twinge of sympathy for him. Mind control, no matter the reason, wasn’t something I readily condoned. I knew it was necessary, our only option, but I didn’t love what we were stooping to. I didn’t mention it to Wes, who seemed more concerned with linking up to the right web address in time while still holding hands. I reached over and adjusted his shirt, fastening a button he’d missed earlier.
He caught my gesture and smiled just as the screen on his phone went from black to moving color. I recognized the office I’d passed through on my way out a few days ago, the memory more of a blur of tables and chairs that appeared in sharp focus now. Grandma stood with her profile in full view, her mouth moving soundlessly as she gave instructions to someone off-camera. There was a flurry of movement and then a hum over the speakers as someone turned the sound on.
“Here we go,” Wes said, shifting in the seat to offer us both a better view of the small screen. My hand tightened in his.
The moment Steppe realized the feed was streaming, he came to life. The wrinkles around his mouth relaxed, his frown disappeared, and his shoulders lowered. He was the epitome of cool confidence—unless you knew his mind.
The bond had been a muted static for almost twenty-four hours. Even now, with curiosity pricking at me, I caught only bits and pieces. Shadows of images
and lines of text he’d burrowed into his psyche while he’d studied his assigned speech during the drive over.
Grandma stepped in front of the camera again, so close her softly lined face filled the entire screen and blotted out Steppe and the rest of the room. “Hello, friends. Edie Godfrey here. If you’re watching this live stream it’s because you’ve been exclusively invited to witness the changing of Hunter policy and formal leadership under the direction and authority of CHAS and its officers.”
Grandma stepped back to gesture to the room and continued. “We’re broadcasting from the inner offices of CHAS headquarters in Washington, DC and we ask you, the viewers, to bear peaceful witness in these troubled times to a ceremony that our kind has recognized as necessary and required in order to uphold our traditions in accordance with Hunter law. Today, we bear witness.”
Grandma stepped aside and the camera followed her outstretched hand to Gordon Steppe. He stood at a small podium at the center of the room, his hands draped over the edges. He met the camera with an even stare and then smiled, full of teeth.
For a harrowing second, I wondered if he’d somehow shucked the compulsion and was operating on his own agenda. But then the camera shifted as Mr. Lexington cleared his throat to deliver the opening minutes and call the meeting to order. When he’d finished the introductions and explained the items to be brought to the council, including Olivia’s death, the camera shifted again, zooming in on Steppe as he returned to the center of the podium.
“And so we mark these changes to the law today with blood and bear witness to the spilling of the sacrifice necessary to proceed,” Mr. Lexington finished.
At the corner of the shot, blood dripped from a newly opened wound along his left palm, and then Lexington concluded his speech with a shot of The Draven sitting to Steppe’s left. Fresh blood marked the place where he’d recorded Cambria’s scripted law reversals and policy changes.
Steppe’s voice was clear and carried easily over the room. His expression was lit with that spark only really available for the truly gifted, the charming. Politicians. But better than any of that, he was convincing in the way he spoke. “Good afternoon and thank you all for tuning in to this special broadcast from CHAS headquarters,” he began.
Broken Blood Page 21
