“This is going to sound crazy—I’m having trouble believing it myself—but the proof is impossible to deny. Somehow she’s a hybrid. She’s a wolf and a vampire.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “How is that even possible?”
Cassandra holds her hands up. “You need to hold on a minute, Jack. What proof are you talking about? Are you positive?”
Jack glances at me, and I get the feeling he’s seeking my permission to tell her everything. I draw back my shoulders and take a breath. “I drank blood. Twice. After I woke up—after Jack turned me—I got sick, delirious. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I was drawn to a house a vampire was staying in.”
“Luke,” Jack murmurs.
Cassandra sucks in a breath and stiffens before shaking her head. As she blows out the air, she stretches an arm across the table and covers Jack’s hand with hers for an instant. I look from her face to his, searching for any clue as to why Luke’s name would elicit such a reaction. It was clear from the conversation between the two men at the mansion that they have a history, but I never asked for any details. I figured the two had run-ins because they live so near each other. Something tells me that’s not the whole story.
After a beat, Cassandra turns her wise eyes on me. “Vampires aren’t social the way werewolves are. While they often live together in broods of a dozen or so, it’s more out of convenience than camaraderie. When they turn someone, it’s often on a whim rather than from the desire to make that person family. Still, there’s a kind of bond forged when one vampire creates another. Since Luke sired you, you could feel that bond. If you hadn’t found him, you might have died before your transition completed.”
I think back to the way I felt in Luke’s presence. “So I have some sort of bond with him?”
Cassandra presses her lips together. “For their many differences, werewolves and vampires have some similarities. As a pack alpha, Jack’s commands are irresistible to the pack members. He didn’t create all of them—many follow him by choice. But the power is the same. With vampires, there’s no real leader, no hierarchy, except when one vampire turns another.”
The idea that Jack or Skye could give an order I would have to obey never struck me as inherently dangerous, but the idea that Luke might have the same kind of power over me makes my stomach twist. “I have to do what Luke says?”
“No,” Jack says firmly.
Cassandra holds up her hand as if to silence him. “When you’re near him, it will be hard to know what’s his will versus yours.”
I sigh, relieved. While the explanation is unsettling, at least it explains some things. “That makes sense. When I was with him…” Heat rises in my cheeks as I recall the way I let him kiss me. “It was strange,” I say at last.
Cassandra’s attention turns back to Jack. “How many others know?”
“I told Skye and Sawyer.”
She nods. “Understandable. What about the vampires?”
His lips twitch. “I don’t think they knew what she was. Luke seemed genuinely confused about why I’d come for her.”
“Let’s hope he doesn’t get too curious,” Cassandra says.
Jack raises his eyebrows. “I think he’s proven just how much he cares for anyone other than himself.” He crosses his arms over his chest, a shadow passing over his expression. “I don’t think he’ll be a problem.”
I’m doing my best to follow the thread of the conversation, but a question prickles in my mind. “Why is it such a big deal? I get that I’m unique, but why does it matter? Why would anyone care?”
Instead of answering, Cassandra looks at Jack. “I assume you have your reasons. Care to share?”
“Silver doesn’t bother her,” Jack says quietly. “She’s fast—faster than I think she realizes. I got the sense the other night that if she ran full out, no one in the pack would’ve been able to catch her. And then there’s her strength. There was a point during the fight when the power she displayed was more than any wolf or vampire I’ve ever seen.”
Cassandra nods. “And what about the feeding?” She turns her gaze on me. “How often do you need blood?”
I shift, uncomfortable at the question. I don’t like how matter-of-fact she is about it, but I suppose that’s better than the alternative. I sense in her none of the revulsion the topic brings up for me. “I’m not sure. It’s been maybe three days?”
“And how much did you have then?”
I glance down at the table, my stomach lurching. I wasn’t exactly paying attention. It’s not like I had a measuring cup or anything. After a moment, I make my best guess. “At Luke’s, he gave me some. Maybe a cup. And then with Jack…” I pause, catching the way Cassandra jumps with surprise out of the corner of my eye. “I didn’t drink much from him. A few mouthfuls, maybe.”
“She didn’t hurt me,” Jack says, and while his words are meant to relieve Cassandra, they make me feel better, too. “It really wasn’t that much. She was weak beforehand, but she was better immediately afterward.”
“That shouldn’t have helped her at all,” Cassandra says. “I’ve never heard of a vampire drinking from a werewolf. I was under the impression they couldn’t be sustained that way.” She turns her attention back to me. “And you’ve had no more since then?”
I shake my head. “Why?”
She takes a moment before answering. “Vampires often feed more than they need to survive, of course, but from what I’ve been told, I’d say your typical vampire would have required more blood than you have so far. I heard the rule of thumb once of a pint to a quart per day.”
My nose wrinkles. “I haven’t had nearly that much.”
“It might be because you’re not fully a vampire. You don’t need to feed as often, yet you’re faster and stronger—and impervious to silver.” She stands abruptly and walks back into her kitchen. “I wonder.”
“What’s she doing?” I whisper to Jack.
He shrugs. “I’ve learned it’s best to just go with it.”
When she returns, she carries a clove of garlic and a small glass bottle outfitted with an eyedropper. Jack recoils when she sets the bottle on the table. “Is that really necessary?”
She arches an eyebrow. “We need to know.”
I look at the bottle with trepidation. “Know what? What is that?”
“This is garlic,” she says, holding it out in her palm.
I fight rolling my eyes. “I know that.”
“It’s one thing the legends get right. Garlic is like poison to vampires. When applied to the skin, it can burn like acid. I’ve heard stories of people injecting garlic oil under the skin and in the veins of vampires as a means of torture.” She settles back in her chair and stretches her open palm across the table. “I need your hand, please.”
After a small nod from Jack, I oblige. “Sunlight won’t kill a vampire,” she says, adjusting her grip on my hand. “Or make one sparkle,” she adds with a wink. “But they’re not at full strength in sunlight. That’s why so many are active at night.” She rubs the clove across the top of my hand. “Do you feel anything?”
The aroma tickles my nose and I can’t help smiling. “Besides the desire to dip my hand in some marinara?”
Her eyebrows draw together. “Interesting.” She sets the garlic back on the table and picks up the glass bottle. Jack tenses beside me. “Oh, calm down. I won’t get any on you.”
“What is it?”
“Wolfsbane,” he murmurs. “Incredibly toxic to weres. I’ve had a couple encounters with it in my life, and the pain isn’t something I’d wish on my worst enemy.” He squints. “Okay, maybe on my worst enemy.”
Cassandra shushes him. “I just need to confirm my suspicion.” She plucks the dropper from the bottle and brings it to my hand. With practiced fingers, she squeezes out a single bead of liquid.
Just like with the garlic, nothing happens. Besides being aware of the droplet on my skin, I feel nothing. “It’s not affecting me. What does that mean?”
“Unfortunately, it means things just got a bit more complicated,” Cassandra says, inserting the eyedropper into the bottle and taking it and the garlic back into the kitchen.
The response does nothing to comfort me. “And what does that mean?”
“Everything will be fine,” Jack says, but Cassandra talks over him.
“Nature requires equilibrium,” she begins as she returns to the table. “As I’m sure you’re aware, humans have the tendency to throw that off. Vampires are allowed to exist to keep the human population from getting out of hand. Werewolves exist to keep the vampires from getting out of hand. And witches concern themselves with caring for nature.” She sits down heavily in her chair. “Your abilities, your existence, could be seen as a threat to the natural order. We witches don’t concern ourselves with the matters of vampires and werewolves much because we know they’re not invulnerable. They keep each other in check. But who could keep someone like you in check? If someone like you gets out of hand, who can restore the balance?”
I hold my hands up. “I have no interest in throwing off any kind of balance.”
“Of that I have no doubt,” Cassandra says. “But the same can’t be said for all. If the werewolves learn what you are, it might make them nervous. You need blood, but according to Jack, you’re stronger and faster than a regular were. If you were to decide to indulge the bloodlust of your vampire side, who could police you? And you have qualities that would be attractive to a vampire, too. Your imperviousness to silver and garlic—the fact that the sun probably won’t affect you the way it affects them. And if the witches learn of you…”
Jack leans forward. “I thought we were keeping this between us.”
“And we are. I have no plans to tell my coven. There are those on the council who might see Ava’s existence as a sign that the world is worse off than any of us feared. Some already worry that the scales of balance have been tipped in a way that can’t be reversed. I doubt the news of a new hybrid will be well received.”
I glance between Jack and Cassandra. “Wait—a new one? From how Jack was talking, I sort of assumed I was the only one.”
“You are,” Cassandra says. “As far as I know, you’re the only one since the first.”
It’s Jack’s turn to be confused. “The first? What are you talking about?”
She sighs. “After all these years, you have no idea how your kind came to be?” She swats his arm playfully before going on. “As the legend goes, there was once a witch named Ulrich who gave up his connection to nature, to magic, to turn himself into something he considered stronger and more powerful. He was the father of all the vampires and werewolves—the first hybrid. When the witches of his day realized the danger such a creature posed, they knew they had to stop him. They were unable to undo his magic and unwilling to kill him for fear of darkening their souls, so they devised a means to split him—his soul—into two bodies: the wolf and the vampire. They figured his evil could serve the greater good and help with the balance, leaving the witches to deal exclusively with the protection of the natural world.”
Her story sounds crazy. How could it be possible? Then again, what could be impossible, given what I’ve been through in the last week? Of all the questions spinning in my mind, one gets the best of me: “How did they split his soul? I mean, how is it possible to live with only half a soul?”
Cassandra glances at Jack, a puzzled expression flickering across her face. “Immortality goes against nature. Everything is supposed to be born, live, and die. To keep balance, once a person becomes an immortal—through being turned or through birth, in the case of some werewolves—half their soul splits off. That piece is later born inside another body.”
I still don’t get what she’s saying. “Like twins?”
She shakes her head. “No, not a person’s twin—their counterpart. Their other half.”
I bring my hand to my chest. Can it be true? Did half of my soul split off when Jack turned me? “How could I have not noticed that?” I ask, more to myself than anyone in particular. “Maybe it’s because everything changed so quickly—or because I was so close to death. It seems like something I should’ve realized, though.”
Cassandra’s eyebrows draw together. She studies me for a moment before giving a heavy sigh and turning to Jack. “You haven’t told her?”
Jack straightens, visibly riled. “It hasn’t exactly come up,” he growls.
“Told me what?” I can understand Jack not wanting to sit me down and explain how his saving my life came with a price. How on earth would one even begin a conversation about losing a piece of your soul?
Cassandra narrows her eyes at Jack before her expression softens and she leans across the table toward me. “Your soul didn’t split when you were changed. You were born a half.”
I stare at her, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. “But I was human. How could I only have half a soul?”
“Oh, sweetheart, you have a whole soul—it’s simply split across two bodies. If you choose to merge with your other half, you will have access to abilities beyond what you have now. These are natural inclinations that will be strengthened by the magic that originally created your kind.”
The more she explains, the less things make sense. “If witches made it so immortals couldn’t have whole souls, why would they allow an immortal to have special powers when they merge with their other half? It kind of seems to defeat the purpose.”
She smiles kindly. “It does, until you know the price. If you choose to merge, it’s not just your soul that’s connected, it’s your life force. Once merged, if your other half dies, you’ll die too. Balance.”
“Finding your half is very rare,” Jack says, his eyes trained on the table. “The person who houses the other half of your soul can be born anywhere, anytime. Vampires couldn’t care less about finding their halves. Like Cassandra said, they don’t thrive in a family like weres do. Then there are the truly selfish ones who kill their halves before they can merge to make sure nothing makes them vulnerable to dying. Wolves, on the other hand, see merging as the greatest blessing they can receive. I’ve known a few merged couples, and they don’t consider it a curse to be destined to die with their halves because they can’t imagine living without them.”
The desire in Jack’s tone is palpable. It’s obvious he longs to feel a connection that strong. I feel foolish. I was beginning to think Jack might actually like me, but it seems I’m nothing more than fresh meat to him—a conquest to be had while he waits for his soulmate. I can’t keep the bitterness from my voice when I speak. “So I take it you’ll merge with your half if you ever find her.”
He shifts in his seat, not raising his eyes.
Is he ashamed that I’ve found out his intentions with me? I glance at Cassandra, hoping to be able to read something in her face. She seems like a kind woman, and I can’t see her condoning this kind of behavior. But when I meet her eyes, her expression is serious. “Tell me, Ava. The night you were changed, did Jack bite you?”
“What? No.” I shake my head emphatically. “Luke bit me, not Jack.”
She nods as if she expected the answer. “Would it surprise you to know both vampires and werewolves have to bite a human to turn her?”
My mind struggles to process her words. “Then how am I a wolf?”
“As I said, you were born a half. It means your soul is already tethered to the supernatural world. It’s always been in you to become a wolf—under the right circumstances.”
“I was going to bite you,” Jack murmurs. “But before I could, I saw that you were changing. I’ve seen the transition from human to were so many times it was obvious. I’d heard stories of halves spontaneously turning when close to death, but I figured they were fantasy—werewolf romance stories.” He shakes his head, not meeting my eyes. “That night wasn’t the first time I’d seen you. I noticed you around town months ago, and I felt this…tug. But it never even dawned on me to hope…”
; I wait for him to continue, but he seems unable to put the rest of his thoughts into words. I glance at Cassandra, hoping she can shed some light on the situation.
Her eyes are soft, and a smile crinkles the skin around her mouth. “Sweetheart, haven’t you figured it out? It’s clear to anyone with eyes that you care for him, but now you’re worried that his feelings for you aren’t as deep—that he’ll abandon you if ever he finds his half. What you’re not realizing is he’s already found his half. It’s you.”
Chapter Twelve
We don’t speak on the car ride back to the enclave. Neither of us has said a word to the other since Cassandra dropped the bomb about me being Jack’s half. There are so many thoughts twisting in my mind, I’m not sure which I should say first. I keep waiting for Jack to explain, but after more than an hour of silence, I need answers.
“It’s why you were in the parking lot that night, isn’t it?”
He’s quiet for so long afterward, I’m convinced he’s not going to respond.
“Yes. After the first time I saw you, I tried to stay away, but I couldn’t. Whenever I could get away from the enclave, from my duties, I’d go to town to catch a glimpse of you.” He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “But that night, I wasn’t out looking for you. There were reports of some new vampires passing through town and I was out on watch. I didn’t even expect to see you because you usually left the bar by eleven.”
I don’t know how I feel knowing that Jack has been watching me. “If you knew we were connected, why didn’t you approach me?”
“And say what? I’m the werewolf other half of your soul? I’m sure that would’ve gone over well.”
I press my lips into a tight line. He’s right, of course. I would’ve thought he was crazy. And if he’d simply approached me like any other guy, I probably would’ve blown him off. But that doesn’t answer everything. “How could you have known I was your half before you met me?”
“I can’t explain it.”
“Try,” I snap. It strikes me that I probably shouldn’t take such a tone with my alpha, but I can’t help myself.
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