Blood Bond

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “I think you should lay low when the girls get here,” I said, restacking the last of the bins onto the shelves. Jack wasn’t going to know where to find anything. I didn’t care right now.

  “You want me to hide out?” George asked.

  “Just until I tell them about you, explain everything.”

  “It makes sense. They’re going to freak as it is,” he said.

  “I know.” The bond between us filled with nervous tension.

  The next hour crawled by.

  By the time the phone rang again, at four minutes after one, I’d convinced myself they were all dead. I’d torn an entire stack of napkins into little pieces now littering the bar top. My mother glared at me. I pretended not to notice and bored holes in Cambria’s back as she spoke into the phone across the room.

  “It’s done,” she said when she hung up. “Sam and Angela are safe. They’re on their way home.”

  I scooted to the edge of my seat. “Is anyone hurt?” I asked.

  The hesitation in her eyes gave it away.

  “Tell me,” I said.

  “A few scrapes and bruises. Nothing serious.”

  “Tell me,” I repeated.

  “Fee took a hard hit. She’s unconscious.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  The crunch of tires on gravel came just before two in the morning. George took his cue and ducked out. I jumped up, my feet practically coming off the floor trying to get to the door. Cambria reached it first and flung it open. Derek stood on the threshold, wearing nothing but a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a pair of flip-flops. His cheeks were dirty, and I could still smell the animal scent clinging to him—a sign he’d only recently changed back.

  Cambria ignored the rest of us crowding around and flung herself into his arms. He barely caught them both from falling backward before hauling her off to the side and holding her against him. The sight of it made my chest ache.

  Jack carried Fee in his arms.

  She was wrapped in a blanket, hanging limp. Her blond hair hung in tangles and swayed with the movement of his steps. I knew she must be breathing based on Jack’s set jaw. I looked away quickly, swallowing hard.

  Then I saw Wes.

  He walked beside Jack, slow and steady, their pace matched. Like Derek, he was shirtless and I got the feeling he’d only just shifted. His disheveled hair and a single, long scratch down his chest were the only sign he’d been in a fight—that I could see. I searched his body for other wounds. The fact that he was half-naked only registered after I assured myself he wasn’t hurt. I wanted to run, to fling myself into Wes’s arms like Cambria had done with Derek, but I held back. Right now, Jack needed him more.

  Alex walked behind the others, looking out of place in a setting that was so familiar—so Werewolf—to me. His jeans were dirty, and a hole had been torn in the knee and across the right pocket. Blood coated his shin, too thick for me to see the wound. He broke from his hushed conversation with Cord and slipped in beside me, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. I squeezed back and then leaned down to examine the cut on his leg.

  “You’re hurt,” I said. I pulled the fabric away to get a better look and he jumped.

  “It’s fine. Just a scratch,” he said, waving me away.

  Jack didn’t acknowledge me as he passed through the open door. He looked determined and unseeing.

  Wes dropped a kiss on my cheek and glared at Alex on his way inside. “I’ll be back after I help Jack get her settled,” he said. He stood next to me, but his words—and the threat in them—were directed at Alex.

  “I’ll keep her company until then,” Alex said.

  I was hyperaware of Alex’s hand in mine, but I didn’t let go. It would’ve felt like admitting guilt of some kind. After a long pause, Wes continued up the stairs behind Jack.

  Cord walked in and climbed the stairs behind them. Her shirt had a rip down the back, exposing bare skin that was, thankfully, free of blood or injury. She didn’t speak, but her eyes were hard and I suspected seeing Fee injured shook her. Grandma brought up the rear, her hair disheveled and her “Grandmas Rule” tee wrinkled where it had come untucked. Otherwise, she looked no worse for wear.

  Sam and Angela walked close beside her, one tucked underneath each arm. When Sam spotted me, she rushed forward and hugged me. “There you are. You have no idea … it was insane,” she said. Her voice cracked on the last word.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” I said. “You’re not hurt, are you?”

  She shook her head, her voice laced with tears. “No, they didn’t hurt us. Wes—I mean, I didn’t know it was him at first—he and that girl-wolf got me out. Oh, geez, you’re cut.” She stared in horror at Alex’s arm. Blood seeped out of a wound on his bicep. It ran in rivulets down his arm and dripped onto the hardwood.

  “Dammit,” he said. “Must’ve broken open again from the movement.”

  “What happened?” I asked. “You didn’t get bit, did you?”

  “No, I …” he trailed off, looking at Angela. She didn’t meet his eyes.

  “Angela stabbed him with a butter knife,” Sam said.

  “What?” I stared at Angela incredulously. “Why?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t know he was one of the good guys. He kept trying to grab me and force me to go with him.”

  “And you stabbed him?” I repeated.

  “There were talking wolves, Tara. Wolves! Every-freaking-where. He’s lucky it wasn’t a steak knife.”

  “Alex isn’t a wolf,” I pointed out.

  “He startled me.” She sidestepped away, and I could see she felt badly, but she didn’t back down. I shook my head.

  “Come on, you,” Cambria said, pointing at Alex. “I’ll clean you up.” She eyed first his arm, then his knee. “Can you walk or do you need a wheelchair?”

  “I can walk,” Alex grumbled.

  He fell into step behind Cambria as she headed toward the kitchen to find Fee’s first aid kit. I started to follow but the look on Angela’s face stopped me. She and Sam were still waiting for an explanation—deserved one, really.

  “I’ll be right there,” I called.

  “Take your time,” Cambria called back, waving a hand without turning.

  Before I could say anything, Sam picked up her part of the conversation right where she’d left off. “It was horrible. I mean, talking wolves? I thought I was losing my mind. Maybe I am.”

  “You’re not,” I said.

  “But it’s just unbelievable, really. I mean, wolves? Your Grandma said they’re Werewolves?” She laughed and the harshness of it startled me. Her eyes shone and her pupils seemed larger than they should’ve been. I took her hand and it shook in mine.

  “I know it’s unbelievable, but it’s true,” I said, watching her carefully.

  “How?” she asked. “I mean, it’s impossible, right? Is it magic, or witchcraft, or what?”

  I looked at Angela, expecting the same mixture of shock and disbelief and general freaking out I saw in Sam. Instead, Angela stood with arms crossed and a heavy frown. My relief became overshadowed by apprehension. For months, I’d wanted this moment. The moment where I could tell them the truth, share it with them, stop keeping secrets. Now that it was here, what would they think?

  “I guess we should talk,” I said slowly, my eyes fixed on Angela. I tried to read her, to gauge how much she’d accepted already, but her face was a mask.

  “I guess we should,” Angela agreed. Her voice was crystal clear, as was the look in her eyes. “You want to explain what exactly happened back there?”

  I took a deep breath. “You should sit down first.”

  We filed in, with Grandma herding Sam—who was now crying—into the living room behind Angela and me. Grandma steered Sam to the couch where she curled into the corner, wedged between the cushion and the armrest. Grandma pulled a blanket around Sam’s shoulders and then slipped out.

  I lowered myself onto the edge of Jack’s chair and clasped my hands together,
racking my brain for how to begin. Angela stood with her back to me.

  “What are you thinking?” I asked.

  “About everything. And nothing. The past few months. Your absence. Your distance even when you were around. My theories you were depressed.” She laughed, the sound completely absent of humor. “I wasn’t even close.”

  “I … it’s a lot.”

  “You can say that again.” She turned to face me and I was struck by how calm she seemed. “You’re happy. I can see that.”

  “I am. Mostly. It’s complicated.”

  “I can see that too.”

  “I wanted to tell you.”

  “At the mall?”

  “And other times. Lots of other times. You have no idea how often I picked up the phone, dialed your number, and then changed my mind.”

  “Here’s your chance.”

  I stood and took a step toward her. She backed up.

  Grandma returned with Alex in tow. She looked down at Sam, who was staring blankly at the empty fireplace. “Alex, can you help me with her?” Grandma asked. “I want to take her upstairs. It’ll make it easier for Wes.”

  “You’re not taking her anywhere,” Angela said. She crossed from the window to block Alex’s path. “She’s staying where I can see her.” She stared up at him defiantly. He didn’t argue or move to go around her.

  “Ang, it’s okay. She can sleep up there,” I said.

  “She can do that right here.”

  Alex looked at me, waiting for an answer, and I nodded. “Fine, she can stay here.”

  Angela crossed her arms, her expression full of challenge and victory. It took me by surprise. This was definitely not the Angela I was used to. I’d expected her to cower, to lose it like Sam had. Instead, she was fierce and fearless. I wondered what had happened to the timid girl I’d known before today.

  Alex lingered a second longer, looking down at her curiously, then backed away.

  “I’ll be right back,” Grandma said. She cast one more glance at Sam and left. Alex slipped out behind her.

  I listened to the ticking of the clock in the hall and stared at my hands. Why couldn’t I think of what to say? Why hadn’t I spent the last few hours figuring it out? Now that they were here, and I had free rein to tell them the truth, I felt … stuck.

  “Anytime now,” Angela prompted.

  “What you saw tonight … Wes, and the others, they aren’t human,” I began.

  “Yeah, I got that.” Angela’s words stung with sarcasm. “They’re Werewolves.”

  “Yes.”

  “And the others?” Angela prompted. “The ones with the glowing eyes?”

  “They’re Werewolves, too, just … a different kind.”

  “Different how?”

  “Most Werewolves are born with their shifting ability,” I explained. “It’s genetic, passed down from their parents. But the ones who came after you tonight were created through an injection. They started off as humans or Hunters, which is what I am, and the serum changed them.”

  “You mean, like a science experiment gone wrong?” Angela asked.

  “Sort of. It messed with their DNA and they aren’t the same. They’re …”

  “Evil?” Angela finished.

  Alex appeared in the doorway and my response died away. For some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to agree with Angela, though I knew Alex would. I caught sight of white gauze through the hole in his jeans. He’d found a fresh shirt, one that wasn’t covered in dirt, drool, and blood. Had he really borrowed a shirt from a Werewolf? A strip of gauze peeked out from under the sleeve. Already, a red stain coated the center. He took a spot on the couch next to Sam.

  “No,” I said, attempting to answer Angela’s question. “I don’t know. Some of them, maybe. Whatever it is that creates compassion or a connection to others, they don’t have it once they become hybrids. Their conscience is gone.”

  “They tried to k-kill us,” Sam said. She stared at me, bottom lip quivering, and something inside me tightened. This was not Sam. The Sam I knew should’ve been laughing, joking, cuddling up to the hot guy who’d sat down next to her. This was barely a shadow of that girl. I hated it.

  “They’re after me,” I said.

  “They tried to kill us to get to you,” Angela said. I wasn’t sure how much of it was an accusation, but I felt the guilt.

  “Yes.”

  At that, Sam began crying again. Her whole body shook with the sobs. Her cheeks, already stained with tears and makeup, shone with renewed moisture. Alex scooted closer and put an arm around her. “You’re safe now,” he said in a low voice. “I wouldn’t have let them hurt you.”

  “Angela almost killed you,” Sam said between sobs.

  Alex sent Angela an amused expression. “Not even close.”

  “Why aren’t you a wolf too?” Sam asked him.

  “I’m a Hunter,” he explained. “It’s my job to kill Werewolves, to protect humans like you. A butter knife isn’t enough to stop me.”

  “Are you sure, because you screamed really loud when it went in,” she said.

  Angela snorted. I hid a smile.

  “I did not scream,” he said. He looked at me. “Do not laugh.”

  “I’m not.”

  “She’s in shock.”

  “I know.”

  Grandma returned and handed Sam a steaming mug. “Drink this, dear.”

  “Wh-what is it?” Sam asked.

  “It will calm you down,” Grandma told her. “There you go.” She helped Sam steady it as she tipped it back. Sam downed it in three gulps and almost immediately the shaking subsided.

  Already, Sam’s eyelids looked heavier. Grandma shifted her so that Sam’s head leaned on the armrest.

  “Sam’s out,” Angela said. “And I’m still waiting. You still haven’t explained anything I didn’t already see for myself. Just come out with it already,” she said. “I want the whole story.”

  I nodded at her. “All right.”

  The ceiling creaked as someone moved around upstairs. My stomach tightened. “Grandma, can you see how Fee is doing?” I asked. “I’m really worried about her.” It wasn’t a lie, but more than that, I couldn’t handle her here. Not now. Not if Angela freaked.

  “Sure, sweetie,” Grandma said. “Be right back.”

  When she was gone, I told Angela my story. I started slow, nervous of her judgment more than anything, but as time went on, she relaxed and my words came easier. We ended up cross-legged on the carpet together, her asking questions and me answering. It felt like girl-talk—the supernatural version.

  “Wait, so Mason Harding is a Werewolf?” she asked.

  “Yup, his whole family.”

  “Wow. Anyone else at school?”

  “I don’t think so. I would’ve sensed them.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  I told her about the tingling, shivery feeling I always got when another Werewolf was around.

  “So every time Wes comes around, you get goosebumps?”

  “Not Wes,” I said. “He’s different.”

  “How?”

  “He and I are hybrids. Not like the ones you saw tonight,” I added quickly. “My mom is a Hunter and my dad was a Werewolf. His parents were one of each also. We’ve been this way since birth. I think that makes a difference.”

  “You missed out on the glowy eyes,” she said.

  There was a hint of humor in her words, enough that I smiled. “I missed out,” I agreed.

  Her amusement faded as quickly as it had come. “You could’ve told me.”

  “I wanted to.”

  “Is that why you went away to school?”

  “Sort of. I also really did punch Cindy Adams.” We shared another smile.

  “Her nose is really crooked now,” she said. “Her mom took her to a plastic surgeon, I think.”

  I groaned. “I feel horrible about that.”

  Alex looked up from his magazine. “What am I missing?”
r />   “Nothing,” we said in unison.

  “What else?” she asked.

  I told her about Miles and how he’d created the hybrids so he and I could rule with them as our army.

  “That’s completely creepy,” she said.

  “Agreed.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “He attacked me and Cord killed him,” I said.

  “Wow.” She shook her head.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I don’t know. It’s just … a lot. This is the stuff fairy tales are made of.”

  “I think you mean nightmares,” I said.

  “I don’t know. You’re pretty badass from the sound of it. And we thought Sam was the wild one.” I caught her smile just before it faded.

  “She’s got nothing on me,” I joked.

  Angela looked over at Alex. “You can take her upstairs now,” she told him.

  He raised a brow at her. “You sure?”

  “I trust you,” she said. The look she wore dared him to contradict her. Like before, he regarded her with curiosity before scooping Sam up and carrying her out.

  “He’s handy,” she said.

  “When he wants to be.”

  “He’s waiting for me to freak out, isn’t he?”

  “You are taking it pretty well.”

  “You realize you’re comparing me to Sam,” she said. “I’m insulted.”

  I grinned. “Sorry.”

  “She’s really only sleeping, right?”

  “Promise.”

  Angela smiled. “She’s going to be pissed she missed being carried upstairs by someone like him.”

  I started to smile back, then remembered she wouldn’t even know it happened.

  Angela’s amusement faded. Lines creased her forehead. “You must’ve been terrified at the beginning, when you first found out about all of this, about what you are, especially doing it alone.”

  “Ang, it’s not your fault, and I wasn’t alone.” I gestured around me. “But I am glad I can finally tell you.”

  She shook her head. “If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes …”

  “I know.”

  “Nothing’s going to be the same, is it?” I shook my head. Her eyes were sad. “Sam’s a mess.”

  “She’ll be all right.”