Blood Rule (Book 4, Dirty Blood series)

by Heather Hildenbrand

  Vera’s vision—at least this one—had come true.

  My thoughts were a repeat of that first moment I’d learned of her ability. The night Wes had admitted he’d known I was coming before we’d ever met because he’d read it in Vera’s mind. Disbelief coupled with indisputable proof was a weird thing. Yes, she’d seen me coming, but how could I lead a Cause that technically no longer existed? Yes, Wes was by my side, but how did one lead when all of the followers had been taken?

  Vera’s visions were like half-truths.

  But now, instead of rejecting them, I was compelled to hear more. Maybe her entries would offer a clue as to what came next. What else had she envisioned? What else did she know was coming?

  I flipped to the next entry. September.

  Spoke with Alex Channing today. Declined my offer. Fee says he would be a great addition but I see he is surrounded by indecision. My visions are cloudy. He doubts himself too easily. I have seen many versions of Alex. In some, he will betray us. When I tell Fee this, she is quick to remind me of the other vision. That he will do as much to save us as the Alpha. I have not told her that I’ve seen them do it together. Or that the Alpha has to make her choice before he can choose a side.

  I slammed the book shut, but not before rechecking the date on the entry. September. She’d written this in September. Months before I ever met Alex.

  The Alpha.

  My choice affected Alex’s allegiance? Did that mean he would choose Gordon Steppe if I didn’t choose him? I thought of Kane and Vera. The little I knew of their story was that they’d each chosen a life path that the other couldn’t believe in enough to follow and so they’d gone their separate ways and fought for different sides.

  Was that what she meant about Alex and me? I couldn’t lose him, not like Vera lost Kane. He needed to wake up. To be here, arguing about how things were being done. Believing in me. Helping us. Alex was on our side, on my side. Even after his betrayal, I believed that.

  I’ll always find you, he’d said to me our last night at Wood Point. And he’d kept his word, despite my being with Wes. Despite the fact that I hadn’t chosen him. And he always would.

  I told myself all these things to stamp out the panic. If I gave in, the void would spread and hurt and George would freak out and come looking.

  I rubbed my eyes. They felt gritty and tired and so far from sleep.

  I set the journal aside, unable to read any more, and picked up the phone. Powering it on was simple enough and then it was a matter of punching in the right sequence of numbers—a code, encrypted by Grandma—in order to complete a call that would be untraceable.

  I entered the numbers and waited while the call connected.

  “Hello?”

  My pulse sped a little when I heard her answer. I wanted there to be good news so badly it made my breath hitch.

  “Angela,” I said. “It’s me.”

  “Tara? How are you? Where are you? Crap, never mind, don’t tell me that. But you’re okay, right?”

  “I’m fine. Worried about you. I miss you.”

  “Miss you too. How’s George? Everyone’s okay, right? Edie was here. She told me what happened before you left. I’m sorry about your pack.”

  I swallowed. “It’s all right.” It wasn’t all right, but there wasn’t anything Angela could do, so I said it anyway. “How’s Alex?”

  Her pause was enough of an answer. “The same,” she said finally.

  “Have the doctors told you anything new?”

  “No. We’re still waiting for him to wake up.”

  “Thanks for keeping an eye on him,” I said.

  “I’m happy to do it. He needs someone looking after him.”

  It was a relief to know Angela understood that. “Have you had any trouble getting in to see him?”

  “No, but—” She stopped.

  “But what, Ang?”

  “That director guy came by. The one in charge of all the Hunters.”

  “Gordon Steppe? He was there?” My voice rose. “When?”

  “Yesterday. He said he came to see Alex but he didn’t ask about his condition or anything.”

  “What did he ask?”

  “Mostly about you.”

  “Me?”

  “He asked if I knew where you were and whether there were any more hybrids with you.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “The truth. I don’t know anything.”

  I chewed my lip, sinking back against the cushion again. “How did he take it?”

  “I don’t think he believed me. He already knew my connection to you.” She paused and then asked, “Do you think he’d … do anything?”

  I debated how honestly to answer her. In the end, I had to be truthful. If I lied to make her feel better and something happened… “I’d like to tell you no. That he would never harm a human since that’s who he’s sworn to protect, but …”

  “But,” she repeated, making it sound as if the single word explained it all. In a way, it did.

  “Yeah. But.”

  She sighed. There was silence between us, broken when Angela finally yawned.

  “I’ll let you get some sleep,” I said.

  Angela chuckled. “I get up before noon on a regular basis, unlike some people. I’m shocked you’re up this early.” Her laughter faded quickly. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

  “I will be,” I promised. “And be careful. I’ll call you soon.”

  I hung up and powered the phone off. I considered calling my mom to check in, but I knew Grandma would’ve updated her, and I didn’t have it in me right now. Later. I’d check in later, when I had it in me to convince one more person that I was all right, despite how I sounded or looked. Right now, it was too much of a lie.

  The room had lightened since I’d first sat down. Faint sunlight was working its way over the tops of the cliffs, casting light lines across the floor and furniture. It made the room warmer, knowing daylight had come again. In the trees overhead, birds sang, their whistles sweetly high-pitched and cheerful. It contrasted starkly with my thoughts.

  Everyone was in danger because of me. Alex, Mom, Grandma, George, my pack—or what was left of them—and now Angela. I had no way to protect a single one. Not all the way out here in the middle of the Rockies.

  And not with this giant hole in my heart. Every name I added to that list made the hole grow larger and sent me closer to an edge—the edge of what, I wasn’t sure. Sanity? Reason? Or simply my own humanity? The longer I went without the bond, the more that edge became a chasm of darkness. I thought of Nick, of how completely the darkness had taken him and what I’d been forced to do. I didn’t want to be like Nick. I didn’t want it to control me.

  A floorboard creaked. I looked up as Wes appeared. His hair was disheveled, sticking up in every direction, including sideways in places. His jawline was shadowed by a faint line of stubble that made the rest of his face shine in the slanted sunlight. His eyes were hooded as if he weren’t quite awake yet, and he rubbed his hand absently over his bare chest as he walked.

  He looked sleepy and distracted and absolutely gorgeous. My pulse sped at the sight of him.

  As it had so many times before, something in me pulled toward something in him. His head turned reflexively. When he saw me sitting, he changed direction and sitting next to me on the couch.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, his lips brushing my cheek before trailing lower, below my ear.

  I turned so our lips met. The kiss was slow and lingering and despite it being our only contact, my insides heated by the time he pulled away.

  “Good morning,” I said. My voice was breathy with the effects of the kiss but his expression changed, his amusement fading to concern. I stilled as he traced his fingertips down my face and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

  “You didn’t sleep well?” he asked.

  “I wanted some time to think.”

  “About?”

  “That.” I nodd
ed at Vera’s journal, which he’d shoved aside when he sat down.

  “Anything good in here?” he asked, picking it up and thumbing absently through the pages.

  “She saw so much more than I realized.”

  “Like what?”

  I flipped to the entries I’d read earlier. “Read these,” I said.

  While he did, I got up and poked around the kitchen. I found the makings of coffee and got a pot going. My hands needed something to do.

  Wes followed me in and leaned against the kitchen counter while he read. “Wow.” He finished the first entry and flipped to the second. His expression darkened as he read.

  “Did you see any of that?” I asked when he’d set the journal aside.

  “You mean during my once-a-month thought perusal?”

  I nodded. “You said you saw me before we met. I thought maybe you’d seen some of this.”

  “Sorry, no. Vera always guarded her thoughts pretty closely. I never saw anything she didn’t want to share.” His voice was tight. I tried to ignore it. I couldn’t deal with his jealousy right now. I needed answers. Facts.

  “And you think she didn’t want to share these?”

  “Probably not. She never told me about them. Or anyone else, it seems.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I can read Jack and Fee pretty well. If she’d told them, they never thought about it around me. And she says in the journal that she kept certain things from Fee.”

  My shoulders fell. “I understand.”

  His features relaxed some. “Sorry I can’t help. That second entry …”

  “I know.”

  Wes closed the distance and put his arms around me, his cheek against my hair. We stood that way, neither of us speaking, both of us swaying in a gentle rocking motion as we held each other. I was lost in thoughts of visions and futures and wishing Vera was well enough to talk about it. Or that Alex would wake up and explain himself. My worry was a dark cloud permeating everything, including the void.

  “It’s going to be all right,” he said finally.

  I nodded against his shoulder, listening to the percolating of the coffee behind me, and trying to hold on to the peace that had found its way into the moment. Right here, in the circle of Wes’s arms, I could pretend he was right. That everything would be fine. I inhaled deeply, held it, blew it out again. My mind quieted by another fraction.

  It was working.

  A sudden scream, high pitched and abrupt in its end, shattered the moment. My breath caught and I jerked free of Wes. “What the hell?” he began.

  The scream came again. My eyes widened as I recognized it. “Emma.” I took off for the stairs with Wes on my heels.

  We reached the girls’ bedroom as George came out of his own, bleary-eyed and manic. He looked back and forth between us, breathless. “What happened?” he demanded.

  “Don’t know.” Without knocking, I swung the door open and stepped inside the girls’ room—and almost tripped over Werewolf-Janie. She jumped when the door hit her flank and then retreated farther into the corner with a whine.

  “Janie?” I called. She didn’t look at me.

  I followed her gaze back to the center of the room. Emma lay on the floor, writhing and wriggling against some unseen torture. Her body rippled, shimmering in and out of focus as two arms became fur-covered paws and then shimmered back to arms in the space of a blink. At the moment, her face was human save for the ears and her expression was one of intense pain. Between screams, she whimpered or sobbed depending on the form her torso and throat took.

  “Emma?” I took a tentative step forward, unsure how to help or which form to take to do so.

  At the sound of my voice, her back arched violently and she shook.

  George pressed against me, shoving me aside, and went to her. He kneeled in front of her and grabbed her hand, stroking her fur-covered arm. “Emma, it’s me. What’s happening?”

  “She’s stuck,” I said, propelled into motion by his reaction. I went to Emma’s other side and took her other hand. “Emma, we’re here. You need to shift. One form or the other.”

  “I can’t,” she said from a human jaw before it shifted again.

  “You have to. You can’t be both,” I said.

  “Why is it hurting her?” George asked. “Shifting shouldn’t hurt.”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe she’s staying too long in the between.”

  Emma cried out and went still, unmoving except for the muscle in her jaw. A whine escaped her closed mouth. I suspected it covered up a scream.

  Janie whined back from the corner.

  “Wes, take her out,” I said, nodding my head at Janie.

  Janie shook her head and backed against the wall in protest. Wes halted. I locked eyes with Janie, making sure she knew I meant business. “I need you to wait downstairs. She needs the space. I’ll help her, okay?”

  Janie stared me down, unyielding. I summoned what I could of the alpha while still in human form. “I mean it. Go,” I said.

  She didn’t budge.

  Something in her eyes flickered—an orange spark behind the usual yellow. It danced and flared and even when I summoned the alpha in me enough to make my skin ripple, the brightness in her eyes didn’t fade.

  I tensed, on the edge between human and wolf. There was something more in her than worry for Emma. George moved to join me but I waved him back. Seeing George stand with me would set Janie further on the defensive.

  Wes wasn’t as easy to dismiss. He walked over so we stood shoulder to shoulder and then took a step toward Janie. I slipped my hand into his to hold him in place.

  “Janie,” I called, softening my tone.

  With Nick, I’d been hard. No mercy. Maybe this time, if I showed her that I cared, it would get through to her in a way I couldn’t with him. “I’m going to help Emma shift,” I told her. “I’m on your side. You can trust me. I care about Emma. About both you.”

  Janie’s eyes burned brighter. “Get away from my sister,” she growled.

  “Janie, I’m going to help her.”

  “Look at her. You don’t help. You hurt.”

  “Janie,” I said, ignoring the insult. She was trying to incite a reaction. I didn’t need a bond to sense her desire for a fight. “I am your alpha. I will always protect you.”

  “What about Nick? Did you protect him?”

  Wes growled at that, a ferocious sound despite the fact that he was still human. I chose my words carefully and spoke them slowly, deliberately. “I protected you and the rest of the world from what was in him. Now, step aside so I can help Emma.”

  Behind me, Emma let out another whine. It only further agitated Janie. She pawed the floor, her nails leaving behind scratches in the wood.

  “She’s hurting,” Janie spat. “And it’s all because of you.”

  “Janie, listen to her—” George began, but Janie cut him off.

  “No! I’m tired of listening.” Her eyes clouded over in a yellow fog and then she lunged.

  Wes shoved me, but Janie was fast and the space was small. Janie’s claws ripped across the edges of my shoulder and caught my cheek as my skin began stretching into something animal.

  My flesh tore even as it became that of a wolf. My knees buckled under the sudden flare of pain and my belly hit the ground. The bond screamed at me, unintelligible and black, as Janie was taken under by whatever she’d embraced when she’d rejected me. There was no intention of stopping in her mind. She wanted blood.

  I knew what had to be done.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Janie coming again. I tried to get to my feet but my legs moved like liquid. My face burned. My mind was a hurricane of darkness with a tiny sliver of light at the edges that I suspected was George. He’d dragged Emma’s writhing form against the far wall and was shoving her underneath the bed to protect her. She was hurting. Her pain only added to my own.

  I couldn’t stand. And Janie was coming, teeth first.
/>   But then a russet wolf was there, hovering over me until he blocked out my view of Janie entirely. His fur stood on end as he locked eyes with his target. And then he lurched forward, meeting Janie head-on.

  I felt rather than saw Wes lock his teeth against Janie’s throat. The pain in my face burned and traveled into my own neck, pulsing there like the beat of a drum. I swallowed, but it stuck in my throat. My mouth opened in a silent scream. Part of me wanted to demand he stop. My instinct was to protect Janie—and holy hell, did it hurt!—but another part of me knew he was doing what was necessary.

  Janie was lost.

  Whatever had taken her place was a danger. An enemy. And there was no way left to save her except to end it.

  Abruptly, the drumbeat ceased and the darkness in my mind dispersed. Wes let go and turned back to me. It wasn’t until he came forward and drew a rough tongue up the wounds on my face that I realized his sadness was concern for me, not the loss of her.

  But the wound on my face was nothing compared to the hole in my chest.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I nodded. The scratches on my cheek tingled as the Werewolf blood in my veins worked to heal the cuts. My shoulder was already closed, nothing more than a scar.

  “I’m sorry, Tara,” Wes said quietly.

  I nodded again. I didn’t have words.

  A hand fell lightly onto my shoulder. I spun, startled, and found Emma—fully human—staring back at me. Her blue eyes were wide but clear. Her hair stuck to her neck and her cheeks were flushed with the effort it’d taken to take a single form. She glanced over my shoulder at the still form of her sister and her bottom lip trembled.

  “Emma, I’m so sorry,” I said, my voice cracking.

  She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. She … We both felt it. I fought but … she gave in.”

  “Are you all right?” Wes asked her. He looked her over from top to bottom, though he still hovered in front of me. Her shape was solid. Two arms, torso, two legs. Even through the bond, she seemed firmer. Together.

  “I think so.” She looked down at her arms and legs. “I feel … like me.”