“It’s incredibly dangerous and a horrible idea.”
I smiled and threw my arms around him, not caring about the sweat and dirt that coated his skin and clothes. “I love you, Wesley St. John.”
“I love you too, Tara Godfrey. Now, how exactly are we going to do this?”
Wes and I spent the next twenty minutes whispering a plan. There were still a lot of angles to work, and he didn’t love the idea of my involving Alex, but I’d already made the call. “Besides,” I told him, “it’s the one excuse my mother will buy. I can tell her I’ve gone for some summer training thing for a few days and she’ll be mad, but she won’t keep me home.”
His jaw hardened. “Because he’s a Hunter,” he said. “She approves.”
I didn’t answer.
“How are we going to convince the others?” he asked.
“Cambria,” I said. “I’m going to ask her to charm them.”
“They’re going to be pissed when they find out, but I guess it’s our best option.” He frowned. “Speaking of, you should probably check on her.”
“Cambria? Why?”
“Cord and I found her at the edge of the woods. I think she was crying.”
“Cambria was crying?” My eyes widened. I’d never seen that one. I couldn’t even picture it. I skirted around him, heading for the front door. He caught my wrist as I passed and leaned in, an evil grin on his dirt-streaked face.
“A kiss before you go?”
I made a face. “You’re filthy … but sexy.” I planted one on him.
“Filthy? Is that what you really think of me?” I opened the door but he blocked my path. He leaned down so his lips hovered just above mine, tempting me. “I’d kiss you if you were sweaty.” His words came out rough, a threat that sent chills of anticipation up my spine. For a moment, I forgot about Cambria. And George. And the plan.
“You would?” I whispered. He nodded, still staring at me. Heat speared through me. Like the other day in the woods, my hormones went wild and my body temperature spiked at the thought of what I wanted to do.
I wasn’t sure who closed the distance, but by the time our lips met, I no longer cared. Nor could I remember why I hadn’t wanted to. Something animal inside me was awake—and hungry. I wound my arms tight around Wes’s neck, pulling him closer. He spun us around so I was trapped against the wall of the storage room. I heard the distinct click of the latch as he pushed the door closed with his free hand and then his palm pressed against the side of my body.
The kiss was hard and frantic. Where I pushed against him, he pushed back. The pressure of his body against mine left my skin tingly beneath my clothing. I needed more. As if Wes could sense my thoughts, his lips left mine and trailed down my throat and across my collarbone. My skin lit at each new contact. My breathing became shallow. I slid my hands underneath his shirt, dug my fingers into his back.
“Why can this never happen to us in a bedroom?”
His voice was muffled against my shoulder, but it was enough to bring me to my senses. I felt submerged, like I was slowly breaking the surface of an ocean. Vaguely, I became aware of the presence of others somewhere else in the house. I sucked in air, blinking away the euphoria.
“Um, I was going …” I managed in a shaky voice. “I can’t remember where.”
Wes grinned down at me. “You, kitchen. Me, shower.”
He pulled the door open and eased out. The tension in the air dissolved. It left behind a bite in the absence of passion.
“Wes?” I called as he started down the hall. He turned. “We make a good team.”
He winked and bounded up the stairs.
*
Cambria came in the front door just as I reached it. Derek hovered beside her, looking helpless but concerned.
“Cam?” Even before I reached her, I could see her cheeks were streaked with black tracks where her makeup had mixed with tears. “What happened?”
“Hey, Tara.” She was dry-eyed now, but I could see it was an effort to remain that way.
“I’m going to see if Cord needs any help. Why don’t you guys hang in the kitchen, eat a brownie or something,” Derek said. He was already steering her that way with a gentle hand on her shoulder. He and I exchanged a nod, and I fell into step beside her, taking his place as he disappeared outside.
I heated brownies for us both and set the plates on the bar. Cambria waited, making invisible patterns on the wooden countertop with her fingers. I joined her and we sat in silence, the food untouched.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked finally.
After a moment, the finger-tracing stopped. “It’s my mom.” Her voice sounded dull, like she’d already emptied herself of emotion.
“What about her?”
“She’s been arrested.”
“For what? I thought she was in rehab.”
“She started ranting to her therapist about Werewolves and secret political groups. He made some calls, started asking around. CHAS got wind of it.”
“How?”
“Who knows. They have ears everywhere.”
I sat back. I wasn’t sure what I’d been expecting, but it wasn’t this. “How’d you even find out?”
“I called Logan to see how his summer was going with the ice queen and he said he’d just heard it from his dad. I guess he’s on some board or council or something and was there when they brought her in.”
“Cam, I’m so sorry. How long will they keep her?”
Tears rose in her eyes. “They’re holding her indefinitely.”
I frowned. “Can they do that? Without charging her, I mean. It seems a little--”
“A violation of the Sixth Amendment?” George stood in the doorway, rubbing his wet hair with a towel. The shadows underneath his eyes had faded to almost nothing and he moved with the surety of someone who hadn’t lain in bed for the past month. He crossed to the bar and broke off a piece of my brownie, barely chewing before swallowing. I stared at him.
“What?” he said finally, looking back and forth between us. His expression fell when he saw Cambria’s tear-streaked face. “Sorry. Did I interrupt? I can leave.”
I hesitated. “Cam?”
Cambria sighed. “Whatever, it’s fine. You can tell him.”
“Cambria’s mom got arrested by CHAS.”
His brows crinkled. “What’s CHAS again?”
“Council for Hunter Affairs and Security. They keep the peace,” I explained. Cambria snorted. “And they enforce the law.”
“What law did she break?”
“She said some things, publicly, about the existence of Werewolves. CHAS found out.”
“Huh.” He swallowed another bite of brownie. “So they’re like the police of mythological creatures?”
“Sort of.”
“They were the ones here for the hybrids, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then scratch that. They’re like Men in Black, except the aliens are Werewolves.”
Cambria’s lips twitched. I smiled at George, grateful for the way he’d lightened the mood. Derek reappeared in the doorway. He watched Cambria from across the room with the same worried expression as before. Cambria spotted him and he straightened. It was kind of cute the way he seemed to stretch to his full height whenever their eyes met. And it made him seem friendlier, even though it wasn’t directed at me.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” she returned. From the corner of my eye, I saw George’s brow rise.
“Cord’s good for now. There’s some old Van Damme flick on TV. You guys want to watch?” He only looked at Cambria as he said it.
“Sure.” She slid off the stool and headed out. “You coming?” she asked me.
“I’ll be there in five. I think I’ll eat your brownie.”
“I know, I know, it’s like the apocalypse or something, me passing up dessert. I’ll make up for it later.”
“I know you will,” I called as they left. George moved to follow but I gr
abbed his arm.
“What’s up?” he asked.
I held my finger to my lips and waited until Derek’s and Cambria’s footsteps faded into the other room and the volume on the TV kicked up a notch. There’d be no point in bringing Cambria in on this if George wasn’t on board. Then again, I didn’t plan on giving him much choice. I pulled him against the corner of the counter and whispered, “I think I have a plan. A way to help you. Do you trust me?”
“Of cour—”
“Sshh.” I glanced at the doorway.
“Of course,” he repeated, his voice barely audible. “But why do I get the feeling no one else approves of this plan?”
I bit my lip. “I’m not going to lie, it could be dangerous. I don’t know what we’ll be walking into. But this guy is our only option, and I have to try.”
His brows knitted. “You’re talking about that Astor guy, aren’t you? I thought he was crazy, off his rocker or something.”
“He might be, but he also might have answers. And we don’t have time to wait around for a better option.”
He ran a hand through his half-dried hair. It fell over his forehead in shiny blond waves, where it’d grown out the last few weeks. Everything about him looked healthier, sturdier, stronger. It wouldn’t be long now. I could sense it on him, like a coiled spring held by a single finger. Any moment, the power inside him would release. I wondered if it wasn’t already too late. “All right,” he said, breaking into my thoughts. “What do you need me to do?”
In hurried whispers, I gave him the details of our plan for slipping away, and Wes’s side trip to retrieve a hard drive that would hopefully have any answers Astor didn’t. When I was done, he simply nodded, his eyes sparkling. No doubt he thought of this as simply an adventure. Did he even understand the danger that awaited him once he crossed over into his new life?
When we finished, I let out a breath full of relief and anxiety. I watched George out of the corner of my eye as we finished our brownies and my heart hammered against my chest. I listened to the sounds of an action sequence from the movie in the other room and tried not to imagine it as the soundtrack for my own life.
Chapter Nine
Two days later, I stood at the edge of the woods for Bailey’s funeral. It was the first funeral—Werewolf or otherwise—I’d ever been to. Werewolves, some in human form and some not, were everywhere. The front yard was packed with cars, but there were several arrivals I’d seen wander up by way of the path out back.
Did Bailey really know all of these people in his short life, or were most paying respects to the organization as a whole?
There were the familiar faces of The Cause members, including some I’d met when Leo had come after me. Jill, a dark-haired Hunter I’d met at that first meeting, walked by and waved. It surprised me that she remembered me or that she would acknowledge it. I’d grown so used to being shunned, friendly gestures made me suspicious.
George’s hand tightened in mine. I looked down at our joined fingers and then up at him, squeezing back. I knew he was trying to comfort me against the sight of the dark cedar coffin set before us. I’d yet to actually look at it. I’d seen it briefly when we’d made our way down from the house, but the sight of Derek in wolf form, a solemn sentry standing guard beside it, brought such a surge of tears, I’d purposely averted my gaze ever since.
I’d said my goodbyes already. Cambria and I had come early, before Jack had sealed up the coffin. I’d sat in the guest room and let the tears come, willing my body to empty itself when no one was around to see. Between sobs I’d repeated, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again, until Cambria came in and pulled me away.
Now there was a hole where my heart should’ve been.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew the thing with the hybrids was far from over. Their leader—someone who was not Miles—wanted me. For what, I didn’t know. I had no doubt they’d keep coming, or that my friends would keep fighting for me. That knowledge only served to solidify my decision to leave with George. Until he was healed, I couldn’t allow myself to focus on the hybrids, or anything else. At least with me gone, the others I cared about were safe.
Except for Bailey.
Cambria nudged me. Each time I looked at her, I had to look away; the vanilla-cream scarf around her neck reminded me so strongly of Bailey’s coat. She held a tissue out to me. I shook my head. I was determined to hold it together.
The back door swung open. Sunlight caught Jack’s face as he stepped onto the grass. I could see the shimmering trail of wet as tears traced down his cheeks. Then his feet hit the ground and he shifted, a single fluid motion that created a rippling effect in the instant before thick fur replaced his skin. When he’d completed the transition, he raised his head toward the group.
Behind him were Fee, Cord, and Wes. Vera remained inside. She’d come out that morning to remove the wards around the house, allowing visitors onto the property, only to find they’d already dissolved. I’d never seen her so drained or empty-looking. It scared me—someone who had once seemed so strong and invincible reduced to a shell of what she’d been. It made my eyes well with fresh grief for what was to come.
Near the backdoor, Fee watched Jack shift with a longing expression, like she’d rather do the same, but Cord hung on her arm, face downcast, shoulders set. Fee’s lips moved in whispered words of comfort. As they neared the woods’ edge, Cord stumbled, her heel catching on a pine cone. Wes stepped up and grabbed her elbow to steady her, and I could finally see him clearly.
He’d combed his hair, letting it fall to the side instead of his usual style: gelled into disarray. And he wore a suit—navy blue slacks and jacket with a silver tie. The sun glinted off his hair, exposing the varied hues of auburn. Despite my sadness, and the tight rein I was trying to keep on my emotions, my breath caught at the sight of him.
He led Cord and Fee to the group of folding chairs that had been set up on one side of the coffin and pulled Cord down next to him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders so his fingertips reached Fee. The other hand dug into his pocket and produced a wad of tissues that he pressed into Cord’s hand. Then his eyes lifted to the coffin in front of him. His expression as he stared at it was a mixture of grief and longing so sharp I had to hold my breath against the pricks of pain in my own heart.
I reached over and took the offered tissue out of Cambria’s hand. She sent me an understanding smile and squeezed my arm.
Then Jack walked to the podium and began to speak. “Thank you all for coming today. We are here to celebrate the life of Bailey Vincent Ross. A life that started out shadowed by grief and loneliness but ended in joy and a tie to a family so strong, even death cannot break it. Bailey was, and will always be, an important member of our family. He belonged to all of us, just as all of you belonged to him. To all of you who had a hand in shaping him into the man he became, I know he was grateful, as am I. Bailey was special, and he will never be forgotten.”
Tears ran unchecked down my cheeks as Jack went on. By the time he’d finished, there were more sniffles than stoic faces in the crowd. George managed to hold it together, but I could see the sheen of tears in his eyes when he shifted his gaze away.
Jack concluded by saying, “Bailey will be buried in our family plot.”
He pointed in the direction of the small graveyard Wes had shown me the day before. Small, nondescript headstones sprung up from about a dozen plots in a small clearing, their engravings simple—names, dates, a short message on each. The newest addition, Jack’s father, read: Joseph Wolfe. 1936-1999. Fierce leader, loving father.
“After the burial, all Weres will reconvene here for the pack run,” Jack finished.
He nodded to Fee. She and Cord rose to their feet. Wes followed behind and, one at a time, they selected a fresh rose from a bucket near the chairs and laid it over the coffin. Then they made their way back to the house and the crowd broke up. Some wandered away and some approached the coffin, selecting a flower to pla
ce on top. I stayed where I was, sniffling and wiping at my eyes with my mascara-stained tissue.
“Tay, what do you want to do?” George asked, his voice low and gentle in my ear. “Do you want to go place a flower?” I shook my head. “Do you want to go inside?” I shook my head again. The thought of four walls made me restless.
Cambria tugged on my wrist. “Come on, let’s go for a walk.”
I let Cambria lead. She chose a path that cut away from most of the other guests and wound around the edge of the yard toward the front. George and I followed in silence.
“It was a nice service,” Cambria said, stopping to sit on a fallen tree.
“It was,” I agreed.
Now that it was over, my nerves were quickly drying my tears. Grief was replaced by restlessness and adrenaline. The time to make our escape was almost here. If any part of our plan went wrong, the whole thing would fall apart. I dried my eyes one last time and took a deep breath. I didn’t have time to be sad right now. I needed to focus, make sure this worked.
“How are you feeling, Cam?” I asked.
She looked up at me. “Right as rain, unless you count my momma drama.”
“Cam …” I sank down next to her.
When I’d first told her the plan, I’d been fully prepared for her to wig out, to scream that I find another way. After her initial refusal, I wasn’t sure how she’d respond to my idea to sneak off and find Astor. But she’d been perfectly willing to go along with my idea—one that left her behind, fending for herself against my mother.
She’d dropped enough comments about Derek that I suspected it had just as much to do with him as it did helping George, Wes, and me escape. But with everything happening with her mom, I needed to know I could count on her.
“If you’re not up for this, I understand,” I began.
“I got this, Godfrey.” She gave me a mock salute. “I’m a soldier.” I smiled but it was laced with worry. “Relax, I mean it. I can compel in my sleep. They’ll all think you’re off flirting—I mean, training with Alex.” She grinned. “And wow, your mom was easy to convince, I probably don’t even need to charm her. She obviously approves of that choice.” She wiggled her eyebrows.
Blood Bond Page 12
