“Tay?” I looked up at the sound of George’s voice, breathless and panicked. I pried my eyes open, squinting up at where he stood, his entire body shaking. His form shimmered at the edges, and he looked ready to shift at any second.
“George?” I managed. It came out on a sob. The pain. I couldn’t handle much more.
“What’s wrong with her?” I heard him ask. I squeezed my eyes shut again, and grabbed Wes’s hand, hanging on.
“I don’t know. Her head started hurting all of a sudden,” Wes said. “Where’ve you been?”
“It wasn’t as easy shifting back as I thought.”
I heard George shuffle closer. It sounded loud; everything was magnified—painful beyond anything I’d ever felt, including my bite from Leo.
“Well, do something,” George insisted in a shaky voice.
“Back up. And don’t you dare shift in here,” Wes said to him. “Get a grip.”
“I can’t help it. I feel protective.”
“If you shift this close, you’re the one she’ll need protecting from,” Wes snapped. “Which way back to the others?”
“I don’t know. I was in my room.”
“Well, how did you find us?” Wes asked, irritated. I squeezed his hand harder.
“I just felt something. I don’t know. I knew Tara needed me.”
“How the hell would you know that?” Wes’s tone was clipped, bordering on fury. “Never mind, we don’t have time. Find Professor Flaherty. Which way to your room?”
“Um, take a left at the end of the hall and its right there,” George said. “How about I’ll take her and you get the professor? I can’t—I can’t leave her.”
“You can’t leave her? What the hell, George! Just get the professor already, and hurry up!”
Wes didn’t wait for an answer before scooping me up and hurrying down the hall. I whimpered at being jostled but struggled against the searing pain in my head to keep silent. Something George had said felt important, but around the pounding, I couldn’t pinpoint what it was.
Wes laid me down on George’s bed—I could smell him on the sheets—and Professor Flaherty came in. I didn’t bother opening my eyes. Even with the lights off, it hurt too much.
“Tara, can you hear me?” she asked.
I nodded.
“Your head is hurting?”
I nodded again.
“Can you help her?” Wes asked.
“I mentioned it to Astor. I think I know what’s happening.” The mattress depressed as she leaned closer. “I think you do too. Honey, you need to let go. George already has and the process wasn’t painful for him at all. It’s only hurting you because you’re fighting it.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. It would’ve pushed the pain over the edge.
“Fighting what?” Wes asked. He sounded angry—and confused. “Can’t you do something to help her?”
“No,” Professor Flaherty said. “She has to do it herself. Astor said it’s the only way. She has to stop fighting it and let it happen.”
“Let what happen? Pain?” Wes’s voice rose and I winced and curled the pillow around my ears.
“It would be better for her if we didn’t talk for now,” Professor Flaherty said, her voice muffled. “We should step out until she’s ready.”
“I’m not leaving her.” Wes and George spoke in unison.
“I’ll be right outside if you need me,” Professor Flaherty said.
The door opened and closed. Then there was silence.
Someone took my hand. I could tell by the circles his thumb drew on my palm it was Wes.
A second later, I heard a voice near my ear. “You have to let go, Tay,” George whispered. His voice was quiet, so low I almost missed the words. “I let go and it doesn’t hurt. It’s not as scary as it sounds. You can do this.”
I sucked in a breath, let it out. I knew what I had to do.
One by one, I relaxed my muscles. Beginning with my feet, my ankles, my legs, all the way up to my neck. Soon all that was left was my head. The pain had begun to recede a little. It was at the edges, ready to flood back in again if I changed my mind.
Only, I couldn’t.
I had to do this. I braced myself for whatever came next—and then I let go.
Chapter Seventeen
“Tara? Can you hear me?”
I fought my way to the surface, concentrating on the sound of Wes’s voice, the pressure of his hand drawing slow circles across my palm.
“Tara, please wake up,” he pleaded.
I opened my eyes hesitantly, afraid of bringing back the pain, but there was none. Only calm. And the feeling from before that I wasn’t alone, which was completely true, since George and Wes were both hovering over me. They wore matching expressions of drawn brows and worried frowns. George looked slightly less manic, though.
“It’s all right, I’m fine now,” I said. Things were clicking into place.
“You’re sure? Because before …” Wes trailed off as I nodded.
“I’m sure.” The pain, the agony, the crushing pounding in my skull—all of that was gone. In its place was understanding. I looked at George. He was watching me with more concentration than worry. I smiled. “Your skills of projection are impressive. I’m calm now,” I told him.
“I wasn’t sure how much you’d feel,” he said.
“Everything. How did you know?”
“When your head started hurting, so did mine,” he said. “Almost as badly too. For a few minutes I didn’t realize, but then it sort of just hit me. And I knew it was you.”
I sat up. “Like I know it’s you sending me calm feelings right now.”
“Right. It’s like you have this signature in my mind—a scent in my brain. Weird.”
“Can somebody explain to me what the hell is going on?” Wes stared back and forth between us with wide eyes. He looked torn between confusion and irritation.
“Um, I may have forgotten to mention one of the side effects of the transfusion,” I said.
“Well, now might be a good time,” he said.
“George and I are sort of, uh, bonded, I guess.”
“Bonded,” Wes repeated. “As in, a deep friendship?”
“As in, I can feel what he feels, and he can feel what I feel.”
“Like read each other’s minds?”
I chose my words carefully, because I wasn’t sure if Wes was angry, but he didn’t look happy. “No, not thoughts, exactly. Feelings. Emotions. George was projecting calmness and it made me feel better.”
“And earlier, when you had that headache, he knew to come because he could feel your pain?” Wes asked.
“Right,” George answered. Wes looked at him. George smiled, which didn’t help.
“So, you guys are a pack now?” Wes shook his head. “That’s great.”
“We’re not a pack,” I said, startled at the idea. That would suggest I was a Werewolf, which I wasn’t. Not really. Yet.
“The bond you’re talking about sure sounds like a pack. Not that it’s normally anywhere near this strong, but being in tune with each other, coming to the other’s aid. I hate to break it to you, Tara, but you two are most definitely a pack. And by the looks of it, you’re the alpha.”
“Alpha to whom?” a voice from the doorway asked.
No one answered. Neither of the boys turned to identify the speaker. We all recognized it.
I gulped, my throat suddenly dry. I drew my eyes to the doorway and stared back at Grandma.
“Hi,” I squeaked.
Grandma didn’t respond. She pointed to the boys. “You, you, out.” They left without a word or a backwards glance. Traitors.
Grandma shut the door behind her and dropped her bag on the floor. She sat on the bed near the end, keeping her distance from me. I hung my head.
“How much trouble am I in?”
“With me or your mother?” she shot back. I could feel her eyes burning a hole in the top of my head. I raised my eyes to hers.
>
“With you,” I said. I could handle my mom; I knew what to expect with her. Grandma was a different story. She’d either smother me with guilt until I’d sufficiently punished myself or tie me to a chair.
“Considering you’ve just registered on my supernatural radar as a Werewolf …” I winced as she let that hang in the air. “I haven’t decided yet. Pack your things. We’re leaving.”
“Leaving? But—”
“Leaving,” she repeated, packing a punch in that one word.
“But George—”
“Is cured, I’m told, thanks to his new alpha.”
“You spoke with Professor Flaherty?”
“And Astor, for all the good that did. I’m not discussing this right now. We can talk in the car.” She rose. “You have five minutes. I’ll be in the hall.” She didn’t wait for an answer before picking up her bag and exiting the room. Through the open door, I could hear her pressing buttons on her phone.
I got up and found my bag in the corner near the chair where I’d slept. Nothing was really unpacked, so even though she’d given me five minutes, I was ready in one.
“Can I at least say goodbye?” I asked.
“I’ve already thanked Professor Flaherty for her hospitality. The rest of them you can see at home. The car’s waiting.” She spun and followed a waiting Mathias toward the door. All I could do was follow.
The hall was deserted. I walked as slowly as I dared, hoping for Wes, or George since he had to feel my desperation right now. They could at least wave from a doorway or something. But no one came.
Mathias held the front door for me as I passed. It was, apparently, my only goodbye.
“Later, Jeeves,” I said. I could’ve sworn his lips twitched.
A sleek, black limousine idled in the drive. A man in uniform, complete with white driving gloves, held the car door open. Grandma handed him her bag and climbed inside. I did the same, but I kept my bag with me. I wasn’t sure why, but it made me feel better. More in control.
“A limo?” I asked, brow raised. I’d never seen Grandma travel in anything other than her glorified tank.
“It’s all they had,” she said pointedly. “This trip wasn’t exactly planned.”
I slid across the leather seat, blinking against the sudden dimness of the interior. Track lighting lit the compartment, like mini-nightlights. I jumped at the sight of another person sitting across from me.
“Alex, what are you doing here?”
I looked at Grandma, who was busy smoothing her bedazzled Nevada tee. “Protection,” she said.
“He’s our bodyguard?” I asked in surprise. “Since when do you need a bodyguard?”
She glared at me. “I have my reasons.”
The partition mid-car lowered. Wire-rimmed sunglasses stared back at us through the rearview. “Are we ready, ma’am?” the driver asked.
“We are. Remember to stay off the main roads,” she told him.
“Yes, ma’am.” The partition slid closed and the car eased forward.
Anxiety crept in, almost blotting out the knowledge I’d left without saying goodbye, without knowing when I’d see any of them again. When the car reached the end of the drive, I twisted around and watched the house disappear from sight.
“My car,” I said, catching sight of it just before we turned the corner.
“George will drive it back. I already spoke to him,” Grandma said.
“Of course you did.” That explained why I hadn’t felt any strong emotions through our bond. He was more informed than I was. “Grandma? What’s going on?” I asked.
Grandma looked at Alex, eyebrows raised questioningly.
“It’s fine,” he said.
“What’s—”
“Turn the radio on,” she said. He hit the power button. A whiny country song spilled out of the speakers. Alex reached to turn it down. “Leave it,” she said. His hand fell back to his lap.
“I know you have questions,” she said to me, keeping her voice even with the volume of the stereo. I had to strain to hear her. “But I couldn’t risk explaining until we’d gotten you out. Alex told me what happened, how you saved George, and how you’re starting to shift.”
“Alex,” I hissed.
Grandma held up a hand between us, like a referee. “We don’t have time for that. He was doing you a favor. I can’t help you if I don’t know the truth.” She gave me a look that reminded me I was the one in trouble, not Alex.
“Help me how?” I asked.
“With CHAS. They cannot, and I mean cannot know about this,” she said. “There are things in place, wheels turning, that you know nothing about. Maybe if you had, we could’ve handled it better, I don’t know. Alex thought maybe we could keep a lid on it, but then Wes showed up and you came here ...” She sighed.
“I don’t understand. What’s going on with CHAS? Please don’t tell me you’re going to turn George over to them.”
“Why on earth would I do that?” she asked.
“Because you work for them. You’re on the council. You’re always talking about ‘we have to call CHAS’ and ‘CHAS will want to know about this.’” I shrugged. “Sometimes I wonder who you’d be loyal to if it came down to choosing.”
“You listen to me, young lady,” she said pointing a finger in my face. “I am loyal to you, first, last, always. The things I’m doing for CHAS are all for you. And you’re one to talk about loyalty. When have you ever trusted me with the whole story, huh?”
I didn’t argue. She was right. I decided to focus on the first part, the one that didn’t have to do with me lying to her. “What do you mean you’re doing everything for me? What does CHAS have to do with me?”
“Just tell her, Edie. It’s too late to keep it from her,” Alex said.
Grandma nodded. “All right, then. Here it is. Alex and I, along with a couple others, have been working to bring CHAS down from the inside. Or more specifically, Gordon Steppe.”
“What?” Of all the things she could’ve said, this I hadn’t expected. “But, Alex, you joined Kane’s scout team.”
“A cover,” he said.
Something inside me welled with happiness. I shoved it aside. “You lied to me?”
“I had to. I couldn’t tell anyone what I was really doing. As a part of Kane’s team, I was able to pass information to your grandmother without anyone suspecting. Then you called and I thought for a second you knew things. It’s one of the reasons I agreed to help you. When I found out the truth, I got on a plane.”
“Won’t Kane be angry? Will he fire you?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, I’m out.” His voice was flat. Something more had happened.
He stared out the window, making it clear his part of the explanation was done.
“I still don’t understand what I have to do with all this,” I said.
Grandma took my hand and patted it. “Sweetie, CHAS has one mission and one mission only: to stamp Werewolves out of existence. Doesn’t matter if they’re good or bad. To Steppe, they’re soulless, incapable of good. To him, they don’t deserve to live, much less have the right to a fair trial and all that. If they knew what you could do … I’m assuming you know about Mary Beth now, the real way she died.”
“Yes, Professor Flaherty told me.”
“That was Steppe’s first run-in with a hybrid. It happened right after he took over as director.”
I started to correct her. Mary Beth had been a Werewolf. Then I remembered what Professor Flaherty had said, about Astor and Mary Beth having the bond George and I had. “He made them both hybrids,” I said.
She nodded. “Steppe couldn’t stand it. The only reason he didn’t kill Astor too was because he saw what Mary Beth’s death did to him, and he knew Astor would no longer be a threat. But now, with you going to see him, using him to help George, you’ve painted a target on your own head. We can’t let Steppe find out you were there.”
“You know he’s not dangerous,” I said as the
pieces clicked into place. “You didn’t want me here in case CHAS found out.”
“Precisely. If Steppe knows Astor’s back in the game, he’ll follow the trail. One that leads directly to you. That would be very bad.”
“What about George?” Panic leapt in my throat. I couldn’t breathe. “If Steppe finds out, he’ll kill him. We have to go back for him.” I clawed at the armrest, my fingers itching toward the door handle. It didn’t matter we were barreling down an empty highway. I couldn’t leave him.
“George will be safe,” Grandma assured me. “He has Wes and Cord and the others to watch out for him. The best thing was to split you up. No one else knows George was even infected. As long as that remains secret, he’s off their radar.”
“He’s safer away from you,” Alex added.
I nodded, feeling numb. “And that’s why we had to leave so quickly.”
“Yes. I got word Kane’s hunting party is close. If they’d seen you at Astor’s …” Alex’s mouth tightened.
“But how do they know I can shift?” I asked.
“They don’t. Not yet, but Steppe knows what you are. He’s just waiting for a reason to come after you. Associating with Astor would be all he needs,” Grandma said.
“And Wes? He knows what Wes is. Does that mean he’s in danger too?” I asked.
“One thing about Steppe, he plays by the rules,” Grandma said. “And right now, The Cause is protected as a neutral party.”
“Until he finds a way to change the rules,” Alex said.
“Which won’t be much longer, if he has his way,” Grandma added. They shared a look.
“What rule is that?” I asked.
“Steppe is petitioning the council to reverse the amnesty treaty they have with The Cause,” Alex said.
“Aren’t I protected under the amnesty treaty?” I asked.
“You aren’t officially a member of The Cause,” Grandma said. “You can’t officially join until you turn eighteen, unless a parent or guardian allows it.”
“But will CHAS go along with that?” I asked. I looked at Grandma. “Can’t you get the rest of the council to vote against it?”
“Most won’t go against Steppe. We don’t have enough on our side.”
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