“Help stop it, you mean?” I shook my head. “If it’s true, and I really am shifting, there’s nothing that will stop it. And I’m not going to take one of her concoctions to slow it. Look at what it’s doing to George.”
“George’s case is different. You have Werewolf blood in you already, though I didn’t think it meant you’d ever shift. It’s not like there’s a precedent.”
“It’s not so different,” I shot back. “He’s becoming a monster. I already am one.”
“Tara, you are not a monster. You were protecting me. You can’t blame yourself. Besides, those things are dangerous.”
“They could’ve been saved. We didn’t even give them a chance.”
“They had no humanity in them. They were trying to kill us.”
“What about the rest of them? The ones who still have their humanity? They deserve a chance to choose a side.”
He used his finger to squeeze the bridge of his nose. “We have to find them first. So far, it looks like they don’t want to be found.”
“Why does it seem like you’re arguing with me?”
“I’m not arguing with you, I’m pointing out the facts.”
“Yeah, but everything I say, you’re telling me why it won’t work, or it’s a bad idea, or I shouldn’t think that way.”
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It was a gesture he only used when he was stressed. “Tara, like it or not, I’ve got a responsibility here now. Even with Jack on the mend, I’m still in a place of power within The Cause. I’m still partly in charge. I can’t just go traipsing all over the place looking for something that doesn’t want to be found. I’ve got people here who are counting on me.”
“Like me,” I said quietly. “I was counting on you to see it from my side. Was I wrong?”
“No, you’re not wrong.” He stepped toward me. I stepped back. I didn’t want to make it worse, but if I let him touch me, I’d give in, let it go. And this was too important to let go of.
“The council is searching to kill them,” I said. “No questions asked, no chance for forgiveness or even justice. They don’t deserve that. No one deserves that. We’re the only ones who can help them. I thought you of all people would understand what it means to be an outcast just because of what’s in your DNA.”
Wes blinked. I’d hit low. He swallowed, waiting a beat before answering. Silently, I asked him not to be mad, to understand how strongly I believed in this. How helpless I felt—about everything.
“I get it,” he said finally. His voice held more defeat than anger. “But Jack says we can’t keep searching blindly. We need a solid lead.”
I nodded, knowing that was the best I’d get, and it would have to be enough. For now, it was, if it meant I had him here with me. There was still George to deal with. “So we’ll get a lead.”
He stepped closer again. This time I let him come. His arms pulled me to him. I stood with my cheek pressed against his chest, my thoughts tangled together before settling on George again.
“We’ll figure something out,” Wes said, picking up on it.
“Like what? Fee’s already said she can’t hold off the change forever.” I was dangerously close to tears. Even though they were mainly out of frustration, I still refused to let them fall.
“Then we’ll find a cure.”
“For being a Werewolf? There’s no cure for that.”
“For being a monster. There’s got to be a way to help him retain … himself when the change comes.”
“I keep thinking about what Miles said, about giving him my blood. It might be the only way.”
“No, Tara.” He pulled away, far enough to look down at me. “You can’t trust Miles. He was a liar, a con artist. It’s too dangerous unless we know the true side effects.”
“I know. I wanted to find that Astor guy he mentioned. Grandma said he’s crazy. Some sort of mad scientist and I should stay away. She wouldn’t say much else about him.”
“Hmm.” Wes frowned, his gaze far away. “I can ask Jack about him and see what I can find out.” He paused and then added, “I’m on your side, you know. I can tell you think I’m being bossy or ‘by the book’ or whatever, but I want you to know that first and always, I am on your side.”
“What about your responsibility? To Jack and the rest of them?”
“You come first,” he said, his tone firm and final. “No more secrets, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Good. I’ll talk to Jack, see if I can get any more information.” He caught my chin between his fingers and thumb. The intensity of his gaze, the emotion behind it, caught me off guard. “We’ll do this together, deal?”
I shivered. “Deal.”
I let out a breath. Some of the worry went with it. Together. We’d figure this out together.
Chapter Five
A few minutes later we made our way back to the lake. We didn’t get far before the sound of raised voices and footsteps reached us. Goosebumps spidered up my arms, across my shoulders. I spotted Cambria first, her wet clothes pasted to her skin. She was wringing out her hair and laughing at something Derek said. Cord and Bailey were right behind them, shoving each other. As they reached us, Cord reached over and locked her arm around Bailey’s neck. She pulled his head down and rubbed her knuckles over his scalp.
“That’ll teach you to mess with a Hunter,” she said.
I stared. It always took me off guard that a genuine smile could transform her features into something so friendly and open. She was beautiful when she was being nice. She released Bailey and met my eyes—and scowled. Derek broke off whatever he was telling Cambria and looked up as we approached. Wes cleared his throat, one brow arched upward. I wondered what sort of thoughts he was picking up from them.
“Oh, hey,” Cambria said to me.
“Hey yourself,” I returned. “Feeling a little cooler now?”
She shrugged. “It’ll last until we leave the cover of the woods. Then I’ll probably burst into flames.” Derek threw Wes his shirt. He caught it in the air and draped it over his shoulder. I took my shoes from Bailey and slipped them on.
“You guys finished trying to drown each other?” Wes said, clapping Bailey on the back as we fell into step.
“For now. You guys finished making out?” Bailey shot back.
“For now,” Wes echoed. Bailey rolled his eyes.
Again, goosebumps rose along my arms—this time with a forceful tremor.
I shuddered with the intensity of the warning, and spun out from under Wes’s arm, searching the forest. Had Fee come looking for us? No way would my goosebumps be this strong from only her. Not even her and Jack.
“You guys …” I began and then let it hang. The others were already fanning out. I met Wes’s eyes and he nodded once before glancing away again, toward the trees. I took another step away. I knew what it meant. The moment we spotted anything resembling a Werewolf, he, Derek, and Bailey would shift.
My eyes scanned for movement. The goosebumps intensified until the hairs on my arms and neck stood so straight it stung. I caught a glimpse of movement; a spot of brown fur darting among the trees.
“Shit.” Cord’s curse came from my left flank. She’d moved closer, a defensive tactic.
“Agreed,” I said without turning. Whoever this was, the fact that they hadn’t announced themselves yet couldn’t be good. More fur, more movement. All of it bearing down on us.
“Baby Jesus, there must be two dozen of them,” Cambria breathed from behind me. I glanced over. She was scared but holding it together. Derek was nearby. His eyes met mine, then flicked to Wes.
“Come here,” I said in a low voice, motioning for Cambria to come closer.
Behind her, Derek shifted. I didn’t have to turn to know Wes and Bailey were doing the same. Cambria’s eyes widened at something over my shoulder. I heard the sound of ripping fabric.
“Wes and Bailey just shifted,” she said, still staring.
“I know.”
Her head tilted to one side, her expression thoughtful. “Bet they lose a lot of clothes that way.”
I smiled crookedly in spite of the tension.
A growl sounded from behind me. Wes. Werewolves—lots of them—had come into view and positioned themselves in a circle. We were surrounded. I swallowed hard. The surrounded part didn’t bother me nearly as much as their appearance up close.
“Check out their eyes,” Cambria whispered.
“Hybrids.” I stared into their yellow eyes, pumping my fists open and closed to keep my hands from shaking. What if it happened again? Right here in front of my friends, what if I shifted into a monster?
“What do you want?” Wes called out, his words only half discernible through the growl that coated them.
A mangy wolf the color of mud stepped up, eyeing Wes, then me. There was something familiar about him. “We want the girl,” it said.
“Is he talking about Tara?” Bailey asked Wes. He’d scooted closer, so the two stood shoulder to shoulder. Bailey always itched for action. More often than not, he was made to sit out. I could imagine the amount of adrenaline flowing through his animal veins right now. His vanilla-colored coat bunched and tensed with coiled muscles. Beside him, Wes was rigid.
“What do you want with Tara?” Wes asked.
“Justice. Revenge.” Its shoulders rippled. I couldn’t tell if it was a shrug or anticipation.
“You’re here to avenge Miles?” Wes asked. He shook his head. Disbelief and disgust colored his voice. “He was using you. He didn’t care about you before and now he’s gone. Not coming back. Let it go. You still have a choice. You can choose to join us and save yourself from CHAS.”
The wolf’s eyes flickered at that. Had he been a Hunter before Miles changed him? Maybe that’s why he seemed familiar. “We are not afraid of CHAS. Let them come.” His eyes settled on me again. I shivered. “Last chance to give up the girl.”
“Did Miles order this? If something happened to him, you all come after her?”
“We do not take orders from Miles.” The last word dragged out, becoming a snarl. A whine went up with the other wolves. Paws stomped and scraped at the ground.
“You can’t have Tara,” Wes growled back, “but you’re welcome to try.”
He was answered by a short howl from the leader. The rest chimed in, pawing the dirt, inching forward.
“We don’t even have weapons,” Cambria hissed.
She was right. My hands were achingly empty. If I had nothing to use against them, maybe shifting wasn’t such a bad idea. It had worked the first time. But then, there weren’t any witnesses left besides Wes when I was done. I held back a shudder. What if I hurt my friends?
“Here!”
At the sound of Cord’s voice, I turned just in time to grab the branch hurtling toward my head. Another was right behind it. I snagged that one and handed it off to Cambria.
“We do now,” I said.
Cambria twirled the branch in her hand, adjusting her grip, testing the weight. She didn’t even blink as she shifted into a crouch, branch at the ready. The confusion at being caught off guard disappeared. In its place was fierce determination. She’d transformed to a Hunter, trained and ready to face Werewolves. I tried to channel the same thing as the hybrids slowly advanced.
“Last chance to give up the girl, and we’ll let you live,” said the pack leader. The alpha.
“Go to hell,” Derek said. He’d stepped up next to Wes and Bailey so that the three of them now formed a wall, a united front. Beside him, Bailey pawed restlessly.
“You first,” growled the alpha.
Then they attacked.
The space was too small. I couldn’t get enough elbow room to really do any damage with my branch. Beside me, Cambria dodged a mouth full of teeth. As it spun to keep her in its sights, drool flew from the wolf’s tongue and landed on my arm.
On my other side, Cord staked one but it wasn’t deep enough to entirely stop the thing. The yellow in its eyes only intensified at the injury. Bright red blood dripped from the open wound. Beyond each of them were the boys, a blur of fur and gnashing teeth. They moved so fast I couldn’t tell who was who, except for Bailey. His vanilla coat stood out against the myriad of browns that surrounded him. Every few seconds I’d catch a glimpse of russet fur—Wes—right smack dab in the middle of the chaos. From inside the nucleus of the fighting, someone yelped. Then the growls took over again.
I forced myself to focus on the enemy in front of me—an even skinnier, snakelike version of the leader, with eyes to match.
“If you don’t work for Miles,” I said, alternating between swings and dodges, “then who?”
Instead of answering, the Werewolf continued his attack. My feet moved in an endless loop: forward, backward, regroup. Over and over, neither of us gaining ground against the other. My swings were too limited to penetrate. I needed more space. And the smell up-close, the overbearing stench of Werewolf breath, made my stomach turn. To make it worse, I sensed the part of me that wanted to shift struggling to get closer to the surface. I couldn’t let that happen.
A hole opened up ahead, a break in furry bodies. If I could get through without drawing attention, maybe only one or two would follow. It would give me room to maneuver and it would give me fresh air to breathe. The scent of wolf strained my senses. My skin tightened and shrank, like any moment I might push through and emerge as something else, something not human.
I went for it.
I slashed out as far as my arm would reach, driving my opponent back with my elbow, and prayed it was enough. Then, I ran.
“Where are you going?” Cambria yelled.
A few furry heads turned. So much for not drawing attention.
“I need more room,” I yelled back, dodging trees.
I didn’t stop until I’d put some distance behind me. I found a relatively open space, planted my feet, and whirled to face whatever followed me out. A wolf—a different one than before—slammed into me, driving me back. I quick-stepped sideways to stay on my feet and shoved him down. As his needle-sharp claws dug in, my pants—and my flesh—unzipped as he swiped down my thighs.
I repositioned the branch in my hand and shoved it up and in. The wolf’s flesh gave with a sickening slurp. I pushed again and its body went slack. Its claws retracted and it slid into a heap on the ground. I yanked the branch free and danced out of the way to avoid going down with it. Its form blurred around the edges and I waited to see if it would shift back to human or stay this way.
My own body shook with it, a strange sort of shivering where I imagined my soul detaching itself from my insides. The woods around me dimmed as if someone had turned down the light switch and the sound faded out. My lungs squeezed shut.
I let out a ragged, choking sound as I gasped for air and all at once everything rushed back. Air whooshed into my lungs so quickly I gagged, and the sound returned with a roar in my ears. I shook my head to clear my vision as my eyes refocused on the scene around me.
I caught movement and looked up. Two more Werewolves approached. These were playing it cool, slowly stalking me. They obviously thought their friend would take me down without needing their help. The look in their eyes said they weren’t disappointed they were getting a shot. Their yellow pupils glowed as they crept closer.
My fingers tightened around the branch in my hand. It dripped with blood, thick and slow to fall. I could see it out of the corner of my eye. I could smell it too.
My blood heated. Adrenaline pumped through me. My breath came faster, shorter. My fingertips and toes tingled. I imagined them stretching, reshaping into something else. My mind formed the image, almost as if it was instructing my body: paws.
I squeezed my eyes shut. No. I was not going there.
A yelp, loud and sharp, startled me. The burning eased. The tingling receded. I caught a glimpse of vanilla fur being shoved to the ground and then a russet wolf waded in, snapping its teeth, catching a yellow-eyed w
olf in its jaws.
I focused on the two in front of me. They were closer. I could smell their breath. They exchanged a look, full of confidence and the intent to kill. Then they leaped.
I managed to get one in the stomach with my branch but had to pull it free and leap aside to avoid the second. They were already on me again when I turned. I shoved the branch out for another flesh wound before retreating safely away from their teeth.
They came again.
I lost track of the minutes, completely engrossed in the fight and glad the threat of shifting had passed. I was me: a Hunter, a human. But I needed an advantage, some sort of foothold. These things didn’t get tired, they just drooled more profusely. They didn’t even seem winded yet, and still they came. I spun and twisted to stay away from their open mouths. I grunted with the effort of another stab, knowing it was only a flesh wound.
Movement caught my eye, and I jumped toward it, branch raised.
“Whoa, whoa, it’s me.” The familiar tone took a moment to register. I looked into the wolf’s eyes and saw they were deep brown instead of yellow.
“Derek,” I said, chest heaving.
I’d barely spoken when my twin killers lunged again. I stretched and twisted away. I didn’t bother bringing the branch up. It wouldn’t have done any good for all the distance I had to keep. But then one of the wolves froze in midair and was yanked suddenly back. It yelped and went down.
Derek’s teeth released their hold on the wolf’s back leg and found new purchase around its throat.
One down.
With my attention on the one still coming, I repositioned my body, suddenly grateful for Professor Flaherty and her unceasing instruction in defensive maneuvers. I brought the branch up, keeping my body clear of the teeth aimed at my rib cage. In a move I never could’ve done without Wood Point, I rolled the defensive block right into an offensive swing. My left-handed hook collided with the wolf’s face just as the branch in my right hand pierced flesh. I leaned into it, shoving harder as the wolf fell away from me toward the ground. The branch slid easily for several inches and then met resistance. I pushed once more and then stopped. The wolf rolled its head side to side in silent agony before letting loose in a howl-turned-wail.
Blood Bond Page 6
