“Did you call her auntie and everything?”
“I told her I know we’re related.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she wasn’t allowed to tell me before, because of my mom, and now she’s trying to keep her distance out of consideration since I’ve had so much to settle into lately. She asked me about the lineage project again.”
Cambria wrinkled her nose. “Just like a great aunt to keep bringing up homework.”
“It’s more than that. She had a vision about it. She won’t tell me what it is, though.”
“Why not?”
“She talked about destiny and how its better left discovered slowly instead of something to chase after. Whatever the heck that means. She talks in riddles.”
Cambria nodded. “All old ladies do that. It makes them sound wiser or something. Did she say anything about the wards?”
“She said she believes me. At least I think she does. But she says there’s no sign of it in the wards. She’s been checking on them more often, though, so that’s something.”
“Now she admits to believing you?” Cambria’s eyebrow–the one visible underneath her bangs–shot up. “Sounds fishy.”
“I found out something else. She says there’s something called a bypass phrase. Sort of a password to get around the wards, and if someone uses it, she wouldn’t feel them pass through.”
“Do you think that’s how the Werewolf got in?”
“I don’t know. She insists she only tells people she trusts what it is.”
“Well, maybe she’s wrong about who she can trust. Maybe that person is the traitor.”
I nodded. “She says she’ll look into it, but I don’t know. That would mean investigating the people she trusts, and I don’t know if she’ll take it seriously.”
“Hmm. We’ll have to keep an eye out. I wish Logan would quit staring after Victoria and actually help us figure this out.”
“What the heck does he see in her? I don’t get it.”
Cambria snorted. “Good guys and bad girls... Hmm. Speaking of impossible relationships, what’s up with you and long-distance-lover-boy?”
I sighed. “Absolutely nothing. I haven’t talked to him in forever.”
“Yeah, the no phone policy sucks. You could email.”
“Actually, I have a phone.”
Cambria’s eyes popped. “You do? And you didn’t tell me? What kind of new best friend are you?”
“It doesn’t matter. The only place it gets reception is the roof of Griffin Hall, and I’m not going back there again.”
“What’s the problem? And how do you know it gets reception there?”
“Alex told me. But he hangs out up there. I can’t call Wes in front of him.”
“Why not?” Cambria’s eyebrows disappeared underneath her hair. “He’s just your trainer… right?”
I could hear it in her voice. She was dying for me to admit Alex was yummy. Which meant there was no way I could tell her how jittery I got every time he spotted me on the weights. I wasn’t even admitting that to myself yet.
“Whatever,” I said. “I don’t want to see Alex unless I have to. The point is, I can’t call, and when I do, Wes doesn’t even pick up. I miss him but I don’t even know if he feels the same way anymore.” A sharp pain shot through my chest as I said the words. Until now I hadn’t realized that was the real problem.
“Duh. Of course he misses you. But he has a job to do now. Besides, you’re destined to be with him, remember?”
“I don’t know if I believe that. The future changes all the time based on our actions. What about the destiny of me being a part of CHAS like my grandma? That’s like working for the other side, so which one is my true future?”
Cambria reached out and squeezed my hand. “Visions aside, you still have a choice,” she said.
I looked at her, thinking of Wes and the pull I felt even when he was gone. “Do I?”
Chapter Sixteen
Alex was in the clearing, already stretching, when I got there for Saturday’s training session. I hung back near the tree line and watched as he extended his arms high over his head, my attention taken first by the utter concentration that showed on his face. His eyes were free of the harsh business-like expression he wore when we were together. Instead, he looked calm and completely absorbed by the movement of his own body. His biceps flexed as he bent his elbows and pulled slowly from side to side. He wore a thin gray shirt, and he was facing slightly away from me, but I couldn’t help but wonder what the muscles would look like, flexing across his bare chest when he pulled himself that way. I shook the thought away, as I’d done every other time I’d caught myself thinking along these lines. Alex was my trainer. I needed to learn from him, and this line of thinking would only distract me.
“Hey,” I said, stepping clear of the trees and walking towards Alex.
He turned and let his arms drop. “Hey.”
“So, what are we doing today?” I stopped a few yards away and turned sideways before I started stretching. I needed the action as an excuse to look away. I kept my eyes on my toes while I mimicked the arm stretches I’d seen Alex doing.
“Tracking.”
I looked up in mid-stretch, surprised he’d said anything other than running. I would’ve liked to hear sparring, or combat, or weapons training, or something interesting, but tracking was still better than running any day. I’d take what I could get.
“What do I do?” I asked.
“Watch and listen, for now.” I scowled but he ignored me and kept talking. “Learning how to properly track is just as important as learning how to fight. If you can’t track your enemy, you’ll never get close enough to do battle, so even the best fighting skills are worthless.”
“Unless they find and attack you first,” I pointed out.
Alex gave me a look and I shut my mouth.
“We’re going to stay together today, so I’ll start by showing you how to track smaller animals, like rabbits and squirrels. Let’s go.”
I followed Alex into the woods and within seconds, we were off the path, wandering through close-knit trees and fallen limbs. There seemed to be no real direction or destination to our movements; or so I thought until I looked at Alex’s face. He wore an expression of such deep concentration that I wondered if he even remembered I was beside him. It was clear he was totally into this.
“There,” he said in a hushed tone. He pointed ahead, but I couldn’t figure out what he meant.
“What?”
“That broken twig there. That’s a rabbit.”
“How do you know?”
“See how the leaves are parted like this?” He bent over the twig and pointed gingerly, careful not to disturb anything.
I still couldn’t see what he meant, but I nodded so he’d go on.
“Now, we look for the next marker.” His eyes scanned the ground in every direction. “There.” He shuffled a few feet away to another spot that looked exactly like the first one. “See how this one is broken and turned? And these leaves are parted from the body dragging as it hopped.”
“Okay,” I said slowly.
Alex looked up, finally realizing I had no idea what he was talking about. He sighed and stood up. “We’re going to have to start small. C’mon.”
I didn’t want to mention that I wasn’t sure you could get any smaller than a rabbit so I stayed silent and walked with him.
“Tracking is basically a matter of being able to see the forest for how it is, untouched, and recognizing the signs of an intruder. Whether the intruder means harm or not, whether it’s a bird or a human or a strong wind, it will leave a mark. The trick is learning to recognize the difference. Watch.” He bent down and picked up a fallen branch and cracked it over his knee, snapping it in two. He held it out to me, broken sides up. “Do you see how the ends are jagged from being snapped?”
“I guess so,” I said.
“Now look over there, at that fallen branch.” He
pointed. “No one pulled it loose. It fell on its own. Do you see the end that broke off the trunk? See the difference between that one and this one?”
I stared for a minute and then slowly nodded. “That one is a cleaner break than yours.”
“Exactly. So you can tell where nature left its mark versus a human or an intruder. Those are the things you look for when you’re tracking. The larger the animal, the bigger the mark. Understand?”
“So far. How do you know so much about this?”
His jaw tightened but his expression stayed neutral. “My father was a tracker.”
“And he showed you,” I finished for him.
“He used to take me with him on his days off. We would hunt small game for dinner and he’d show me what to look for, how to track.” His voice had an edge to it that hadn’t been there a moment ago.
I remembered what Cambria had said, about Alex’s dad drinking after what happened when Alex was a kid.
“Do you still talk to him?” I asked.
Alex shook his head, his gaze far away. “He died last year. Liver failure.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was his own damn fault for letting the bottle win. Well, his, and the pack that started it all.”
“What do you mean?”
Alex took a deep breath, like the weight of the world rested in whatever memory he was about to divulge. I waited, unsure if I’d overstepped but unwilling to take it back.
“When I was a kid, a pack of rogue Werewolves attacked my family. My dad had been tracking and killing their pack members for weeks, one by one. On orders from CHAS. The pack leader followed him home one night and waited until he left for work the next day. Then they attacked. I was getting ready to leave for school. I opened the door and there they were. But they were men. I didn’t understand what was happening until they’d shoved into the house and began to shift.
“When I realized what they were, I yelled for my mom to get out, but a couple of them had already pushed their way into the kitchen. She screamed, and I tried to get to her, but the pack leader had stayed human. He grabbed me and locked me in the basement.”
“How did you get out?”
“I didn’t, at first. They–” He stopped and turned away.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me,” I said.
He looked back at me. “I haven’t told many people this story, and maybe I’m crazy for saying it, but I trust you, Tara.” He inched closer, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “Can I trust you?”
“Yes,” I whispered. I was completely caught up in the story – and this moment.
He nodded, like that was all the reassurance he needed. “That day, they tortured me. They used their claws and other weapons so I wouldn’t be too wounded to walk. When evening came, they brought me upstairs to wait for my dad. They had me on the porch when he came home. He saw me from the road and called for backup. Then he charged the house.”
“How did you guys get out, though? I mean, your dad against a whole pack?”
He shook his head. “You didn’t know my dad. He was insanely focused in battle. He’d have made a great general for the human army. Strong. Strategic. Lethal. He took down a few on the porch before they could even shift. He threw me into the car and then went back inside the house, looking for my mom. When he found her – the way she looked – I think it broke his concentration. A couple of them managed to get their teeth in him. But then backup came and drove the rest of them off.”
“Your dad recovered from the bites?” I asked.
“They weren’t that bad. Mine were worse. They’d waited until right before my dad came home so I would be alive when he saw me, but…” A shudder rippled through his body, and the ghost of whatever replayed through his mind flitted over his face.
And in that moment, I understood his hatred for Werewolves.
“But you’re okay. They saved you,” I said.
“Yeah.” His voice was heavy. “But my mother wasn’t. And neither was my dad, after that day. Drank himself to death, in the end.”
The haunted look in his eyes dimmed, but I could still see the pain and loss he felt, and I wished there was something I could say. But there was nothing. All around me, birds chirped and sunlight streamed down, warming the chilly forest floor. It seemed out of place in its cheerfulness after the conversation we’d had. I wrapped my arms around myself to chase away the melancholy.
“Alex, I’m sorry,” I began.
“Let’s keep walking.” His tone was brusque and devoid of any emotion.
It was a tone I’d heard him use before, and I suspected it was his way of dealing with it all. It changed the way I reacted when he spoke that way. I nodded and fell into step beside him.
And for the rest of the afternoon, Alex talked about tracking.
He went on about the difference in how a trail would look if left by a rabbit versus a cat or even a Werewolf. He showed me what to look for if a trail seemed to end out of nowhere, and how to find it again. Under any other circumstances, I would’ve been bored out of my mind with a subject like this, but it was fascinating to watch Alex’s excitement. The way his whole mind seemed to submerse itself in the process; trying to guess what his prey was thinking. I couldn’t look away. Something about his expression in those moments was more open than I’d ever seen him. It was easy to picture Alex as a boy, in the woods with his dad, being taught these very same things.
“Okay, same time tomorrow.”
“On a Sunday?” I wrinkled my nose. Sundays were my only day off.
“We’re going out again, separately, and you’re going to track me. I want to show you how to avoid leaving a trail.”
“Okay.” I turned to head back to the dorms.
“Tara?”
“Yeah?” When he didn’t say anything, I looked up and met his eyes. He watched me with an unreadable expression. “What?”
He shook his head like he was clearing it of whatever had held his attention and seemed to remember I was waiting for him to say something.
“Vera said she talked to you,” he said. “She believes you about the breach, I think.”
I nodded slowly. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting him to say, but it hadn’t been this. There was still pain in his expression, though he’d pushed it to the back. “She told me. She didn’t seem very bothered by the possibility that someone she trusts helped get that Werewolf through.”
“But you understand now, right? About her, I mean?”
“Um, sure,” I said, tilting my head in confusion.
He rubbed his head and paced, obviously frustrated by whatever I was supposed to understand. “With the disease, it’s hard for her. I think she won’t admit how weak she is,” he said. “I’m glad she told…” He trailed off as he met my eyes – and realized I had no idea what he was talking about. “Shit.”
I stepped closer. “What disease? What’s wrong with Vera?”
Alex tipped his head back and stared up, mumbling to himself. He ran a hand over his face. “All right, look. I wasn’t supposed to say anything, least of all, to you. I don’t know why she cares if you know.”
I tapped my foot. “What are you talking about?”
“Vera’s sick, Tara.”
“Sick?” There was some small part in the back of my mind that understood the depth of the meaning behind the single word—that this wasn’t some flu virus or head cold–but I couldn’t go there yet. It was too unexpected and confusing. “No, I saw her yesterday. She was fine.”
“You’re right. She does look fine, mostly. But it’s not good.” His lips pressed together in a grim line. “I’m sorry, Tara.”
I waved a hand, ignoring the last part. I didn’t need sympathy, and I was pretty sure Vera wouldn’t want it, either. “What is it? Cancer?”
“No one knows. She’s had all the tests. They all come back inconclusive. But she’s exhausted and weak. It’s getting worse. That’s all I know.”
/> “So this virus does what? Makes her numb enough to miss the feeling of a Werewolf passing though her wards?”
He shrugged. “She won’t admit to it, because she refuses to say how bad off she is. Kane’s got a nurse checking on her but she’s fighting him on it. She doesn’t want anyone to know she’s sick. I thought when she said she’d talked to you… I thought you knew.”
We sat down on the grass and fell into an awkward silence. I fumbled with the cap to my water bottle until I couldn’t take it anymore. This was too much. First, Vera was having visions again–of something other than me leading The Cause, something that would directly shape my future, then she’s my great aunt, and now she was dying? And I was supposed to what? It wasn’t like I didn’t care. I felt sympathy – just not the kind I would’ve felt if it were someone I actually felt a connection to. She didn’t feel like family.
Alex watched me, waiting. I wasn’t sure for what. It was obvious he knew Vera and I were related. I didn’t really want to get into that, though, so I left it alone. His expression was sympathetic, bordering on pity. The thing was I had no idea how I felt – or how I was supposed to feel, so it irritated me.
I stood up. “I’ve gotta get ready for dinner.”
“Don’t say anything, okay?”
“The wards aren’t secure. You know what this means, right?”
“What happened Saturday will happen again.”
“Exactly –”
I was about to say that we needed to do something about the problem. Vera’s illness was too dangerous to keep it a secret. Alex cut me off, his tone biting and rough.
“They’ll keep coming until they get what they came for. It’s in their nature. They’re animals.”
My jaw hardened, and he seemed to realize what he’d said. He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but I didn’t want to hear any of it. After what he’d told me about his past I might be able to understand why he despised Werewolves; but he had a bad habit of lumping me into a category of killers, and I couldn’t overlook that.
“Save it.” I turned and ran for the trail.
Cold Blood Page 17
