My brows rose. “Yeah, because my session with Jack was so promising.”
“We’ll figure it out. I’ll start taking naps if I have to. I’m not going to keep you from a love life any more than you’ll keep me from mine.”
“You have a love life?” I asked, then ducked my head as I realized how it sounded.
He bumped me with his shoulder. “Well, not as hot as yours, apparently. Not yet. But when I do, it would help to know it’s only she and I in the room.”
“Agreed.”
“I have to say, though, after witnessing what I did, even telepathically, Wes is one lucky guy. You were never like that with me.”
“George,” I warned. “Do not go there.”
He went on, pretending not to hear me. “I mean, wow. It was hot. You were hot. If you’d been half that way with me, we’d—”
“George!” I shoved him hard enough to send him sprawling off the end of the step. He might’ve caught himself if he hadn’t been laughing so hard by then.
The door opened behind me, and Wes poked his head out. “What’s going on out here? Do I need to separate you two?” George and I shared a look, and he burst into laughter again. He still hadn’t moved to get up. Wes looked back and forth between us, confused. “What’s so funny?” he asked.
A slow smile spread across my face, and then it bubbled up in my chest and I laughed right along with George, with Wes looking on as if we’d lost it.
“What’s so funny?” Wes repeated.
“Kissing … you …” I managed before dissolving into a fit again. For a second, he looked offended, but then he shook his head and disappeared inside.
George and I didn’t get up for a long time.
Chapter Twenty-One
Five days later, I sat on the back porch, sulking, after another failed training session with Jack. Wes was hiding somewhere inside after his attempts to cheer me up had been met with steady glaring.
George wandered out to sit with me and gave me the obligatory, “you can do it,” speech. I didn’t respond, and we sat in silence for a while. He tried getting me to practice our bond-blocking thing, but we’d been at it for days with no luck. I wasn’t in the mood to fail at anything else today.
The back door creaked open. I looked up, expecting Wes, and found Derek instead. “Living room, five minutes,” he said.
“What’s going on?” George asked him, already rising.
Derek shrugged. “Cord’s back. She’s got news.”
George dusted his hands on his shorts and extended his hand, pulling me up beside him. The mention of Cord’s return had our attention. Jack and Wes tried calling her several times for an update. She rarely answered and when she did, the details were vague. Fee said Cord needed time on her own. I think losing Bailey really rocked her, so we gave her the space she needed.
But if she was back, with news …
George and I hurried into the living room behind Derek. Wes, Cambria, Jack, and Fee were already there. I leaned against the door frame next to George. The front door opened and closed. Cord appeared with Grandma on her heels. The clock on the wall showed my pickup time.
“Perfect timing, Edie,” Fee said.
“I hear there’s news,” Grandma said. She settled herself in the chair near the window.
From my place against the wall, I watched Cord. Her eyes were ringed with circles, her face pale. She’d looked pretty rough before, when I’d seen her at Astor’s, but this was worse. More than tired, her expression reminded me of the one I’d seen on Fee that day in the kitchen—haunted, grim, bereft. It looked even more out of place on Cord.
“Where’s Vera?” Cord asked.
“She’s in her room, resting,” Fee told her. “She’s not up for this.”
Cord’s expression clouded. I knew how she felt. I’d been in to see Vera a couple of times, but it hadn’t been the same. The tea Fee brewed for her wasn’t doing much good anymore. She spent most of her time in bed. She’d taken to watching my training sessions from her window.
“I’ll fill her in once we’re done here,” Fee said. She nodded at Cord. “Go on, what did you find out?”
“You guys know I’ve been looking for my friend, Mal, the one I sent Wes to meet in DC,” Cord began. Everyone nodded. “Well, I found her, and she’s dead.”
“What?” Fee’s eyes widened.
“How?” Wes asked. He slid forward to the edge of the couch. Even from across the room I could feel the tension of coiled muscles from every single one of them. It felt like the moment we’d waited for these past few weeks—the moment it would all begin.
“The paper said she hung herself. They found her in an abandoned building with a sheet tied around her neck.”
“Any witnesses?” Jack asked. Even he looked ready to jump up and rush out.
Cord shook her head, her hair shaking vigorously at her shoulders. “They interviewed a couple of her coworkers. All of them said she was depressed.”
Cambria snorted. “I would be too, working for those asshats.”
“What sort of information was she giving us?” George asked.
“I don’t know for sure, but it must’ve been important if they did this to silence her,” Wes said.
“It had something to do with the hybrids,” Cord said. “Mal made it sound like CHAS knew a way to cure them.”
“I’m going to call Logan.” Cambria got up and pulled out her phone. “Maybe Astor knows what CHAS doesn’t want leaked.”
“Good idea,” Derek said. He followed her out.
“I have to wonder if it has something to do with all the metal stuff,” Cord said. “Mal wasn’t suicidal. They got to her. I should’ve never let her agree to that meeting.”
“You said it was her idea,” Wes said.
“It doesn’t matter. I should’ve stopped it.”
Wes rose and went to Cord. He didn’t touch her. She wouldn’t have let him. He looked her in the eye, held her gaze. “It wasn’t your fault,” he said quietly.
We all knew he wasn’t only talking about Mal. Cord drew a slow breath. “I know that, but someone has to pay.”
He nodded. “They will.” I watched her take his hand and squeeze until her knuckles turned white.
“We need proof,” I said.
One by one, all of us turned to Grandma.
“I’m already on it,” she said, whipping out her phone and striding from the room.
“What do we do now?” George asked.
“We wait,” Jack said. He sounded just as impatient as I felt.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Days passed. Training was slow and painful. The routine with Alex wasn’t horrible. I still hated running, but I was better at sparring than before, which made it more enjoyable than it had been at the beginning—when I’d ended up on the ground every three minutes.
Jack’s training was tougher. As in, no progress. None.
He seemed clueless as to how to trigger my wolf, using me as a punching bag or saying anything he could to get a rise out of me. All it did was piss me off enough to yell at him—something I’d never have done unless provoked. Even “friendly” Jack scared the bejeesus out of me in a fight. I scowled a lot, and swung my fists, landing a few of them on parts not covered by his padding. All of it was from a body that was decidedly human.
Wes watched and sometimes joined in the baiting. It led to real arguments after, so he’d stopped coming around during the middle of the second week. He’d wait until it was over to show himself, or sometimes he’d stay away until I was home, showered, and fed. I was always in a better mood after that. My mom had started letting him in, under the watchful eye of either herself or Grandma. Alex made himself scarce during those times. I wasn’t sure what he did, but I didn’t question it. He and Wes in the same room wasn’t a pretty sight. Still, they endured it when they had to.
Wes told me he still owed Alex for saving me from Miles and then Mr. Lexington. He said his payback for the debt was to not attempt t
o murder Alex every time he saw him. I figured that was as good as I could hope for.
Cambria spent all of her free time—which was all day, every day—with Derek. I asked her a few times what it meant, how serious things were, but she brushed me off every time. She’d stopped talking about her mom, even when I asked, so I stopped asking. Despite my promise that night in the gazebo, there really wasn’t anything I could do. Not right now.
The routine probably wouldn’t have felt so monotonous if it weren’t for the hybrids—or, more specifically, the absence of them. Victoria’s parents especially. For the first week, I’d looked over my shoulder every time I left the house, on full alert for some sort of attack. None came, and as the weeks passed, I wondered if maybe they’d given up.
Grandma uncovered absolutely nothing about Mal’s death. She’d said it was too difficult to work from here and uncover anything useful, so she packed up and went back to Washington. Cambria had put in a call to Logan and he said he’d try to find out what Astor knew, but so far, nothing. Either Astor didn’t know, or he didn’t want to share. Logan said every time he asked about it, Astor went off the deep end and left to paint. I think the questions reminded him too much of Mary Beth.
Everyone was restless and trying to hide it.
Cord stayed in her room most days. She claimed computer research into her friend’s death but I suspected it hurt her to be in the same place where she’d last seen Bailey. I couldn’t blame her. I still hadn’t gone into the woods behind the house for that reason. I noticed the boys took a new route on their daily run with George. I’d caught Jack staring blankly into the trees one day before practice but pretended not to notice. Fee had lost weight but she put on a brave face.
Grief was the elephant in the room.
Instead of acknowledging it, we spoke of battle. Of justice.
It was only a matter of time until words turned to action, a dam whose foundation was slowly cracking, but it was easier to let it fade from my concern. I had Wes. I had my friends. I had everything I needed.
One week into July, the dam broke. It started with Vera. She’d taken to watching my sessions with Jack from the window. Fee would prop her bed up and lift the blinds so she wouldn’t have to move. I’d only been at it a few minutes, but already I was frustrated.
“Jack, face it, this isn’t going to work,” I said.
His response—another reassurance to try again, no doubt—was interrupted by a tapping on the window. When I turned to look, Vera motioned at us. I followed Jack inside and through the door to Vera’s room.
“What’s up?” Jack asked. His broad shoulders took up the entire doorway.
“Both of you, come in here,” she said.
“Did you find something?” Jack asked, gesturing to the stack of Dravens lying open on the table.
“Maybe. Shut the door.”
I did as she asked, and she waved me closer. “All the way over. I need to see something,” she said. I walked to the edge of her bed, and she leaned over so her face almost touched my shirt and sniffed.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I thought so.” She looked up sharply at Jack. “Get George.”
“Why?” I asked.
Jack’s brow wrinkled, but he left the room.
“Why do you need George?” I repeated.
“I have a theory,” she said.
The door reopened. George stepped through, Jack behind him. “What’s going on?” George asked.
“I want you to try something for me,” she said, directing her gaze at George. “I want you to go outside and shift in front of Tara.”
“What? Why?” he asked.
“Because I suspect you’re wrong about Tara’s trigger,” she said. “I don’t think she responds to threats or violence. I think it’s you.” She pointed at George.
“Me?” he echoed, clearly confused with her logic. I wasn’t following, either.
“Vera, I’ve been around George plenty of times and not had the urge to shift,” I said.
“Yes, but not when he was a Werewolf.”
“I’ve been around other Werewolves without any reaction lots of times.”
“But George isn’t just any Werewolf,” she pointed out.
“You think my trigger is hybrids?” As soon as I asked the question, I knew.
That night at school with Wes, Victoria’s parents in the road, their attack on me at Astor’s … Maybe she was right. If so, what about that day on the highway? Coming home from school, when I’d had to run behind the gas station. Had there been a hybrid around?
“You up for it?” George asked. I could feel him probing my mood with the bond. I knew he’d sense my curiosity and more than a little anxiety. Being near a hybrid might be my trigger, but I also had a history of turning on them.
I took a steadying breath. “It’s worth a shot,” I said.
“Come on, then.” Jack started for the door but Vera stopped him.
“Let them go alone,” she said.
They shared a look. Something passed between them. He nodded. “All right, I’ll be right here if you need me,” he said. “But if you manage to shift, I’m coming out.”
I nodded. George and I went outside while Vera and Jack watched from the window. I kicked some pads and equipment out of the way and stood in the grass. George stood facing me, not too close. I backed up a few more steps. His brows went up.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Tay,” he said.
“I know that.”
He shook his head. “You ready?”
“Yeah.”
I tried to project the right emotions so he wouldn’t see through to my fear. It must’ve worked because a second later, his form shimmered at the edges, like a pool of water after a rock being thrown. When it settled, he was a wolf. His shoulders were broader than I remembered, his coat lighter.
“You’re bigger,” I said.
He grinned, flashing a lot of sharp, white teeth. “I’ve been running a lot. You’ve gotta try it when you’re … you know. It’s the coolest feeling ever.”
I ignored his reference to my shifting. That weird tingly feeling in the back of my neck returned, leaving a headache. “Your coat is lighter,” I said.
“The sun, I think.” He took a step toward me and I scrambled back. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I—” The tingling in my neck intensified.
“You’re fighting it again, aren’t you?” he asked.
“No,” I argued. I rubbed my shoulder absently.
“Do you feel sort of prickly on your neck?” he asked.
“Maybe.”
“That’s normal. Just give in to it. You’ll be fine.”
“It hurts.”
“Only because you keep pushing it down. Just let it come.”
Tears sprang to my eyes. I blinked them back. He was right; something inside me kept rising to the surface, and each time I pushed it down, terrified if I let it out, I’d hurt someone again. “I’m scared,” I whispered.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” he said. He took another step.
Alarm shot through me. I backed toward the woods. “I’m not worried about me,” I said. “I’m worried about you.”
George’s expression changed from relaxed to fierce, and for a second, I wondered what I’d said to make him so angry. But then I didn’t have time to wonder anymore because he sprang, baring his teeth and snarling. I jumped and rolled out of the way just in time, barely missing his claws as he sailed past me.
I sat up, confused, to the sound of the back door slamming open and the sound of Wes’s name being called. I looked up in time to see Jack hurl himself off the steps, rippling into a wolf in midair. He sprinted toward me, his eyes intent. It wasn’t until he passed me and launched himself at something over my shoulder that I realized we weren’t alone.
This was the real reason for the prickling on my neck.
Behind me, George was surrounded by four Werewolves, each
one snapping at his ankles when his back was turned. Jack waded into the middle of their circle without hesitation. His teeth closed around one of the Werewolves’ throats. It let out a mangled yelp as Jack bit down.
I got to my feet and grabbed the closest thing I could find. It looked like half of a dowel rod. I wasn’t sure what Jack had intended it for, because it wasn’t sharp or particularly scary-looking, but I didn’t have time to find something better. I rushed toward the fight, weapon—sort of—in hand. The tingling against my neck threatened to distract me. I gritted my teeth and pushed forward.
Wes came barreling out the door, already shifting.
We reached the others at the same time. I barely had a chance to process the yellow eyes of our attackers before a familiar voice called out to me from inside the woods.
“Tara Godfrey.”
I faltered, searching for the speaker. Wes pulled up short, his hip shoved against me protectively.
“Show yourself,” I called.
Mr. and Mrs. Lexington stepped clear of the trees, both human. Finally, after weeks of wondering how and where they’d find me, I knew. It made me more relieved than afraid. Wes pressed against me, his shoulders bunched, ready to spring. I grabbed him by the scruff and clamped down. “Not yet,” I whispered.
“You don’t seem surprised,” Mr. Lexington said.
“I knew you’d come,” I said. “I see you brought friends.” I tried to sound unconcerned, but I sensed George’s anxiety building. He wasn’t experienced with this sort of thing. He was scared.
“Insurance,” Mr. Lexington said, waving a dismissive hand. “It will be me who delivers you.”
I yanked back against Wes’s attempt to run at him. “I’m not afraid of you,” I said.
Mr. Lexington’s eyes flickered to George and he sniffed. Mrs. Lexington placed her hand on his arm, but she didn’t speak.
“I smell fear,” he said. “You have twenty-four hours.”
Something within the bond shifted. Relief.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched the last yellow-eyed hybrid fall to the ground in front of George. His muzzle was strained red. None of the hybrids moved where they lay scattered. George and Jack, both winded, turned their attention to the Lexingtons. I read George’s intent loud and clear. Attack. I had no doubt Jack intended the same.
Blood Bond Page 28
