Broken Blood

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “It’s not hard for me to imagine,” Wes said dryly. “He is right where he’s always wanted to be. In the thick of our group, physically and mentally. Where it’s easiest to tear us apart.”

  As Wes followed the GPS directions, I lost myself in my own speculation. It was entirely possible this had been Steppe’s intention all along. But there was no going back now. Nothing could convince me to return to that basement, not even to put him back in that cage beside Olivia.

  “Tara? Are you all right?”

  I blinked and realized I’d zoned out on the memory of that cold room. “Sorry, just ... remembering,” I said finally.

  “I know,” he said in a strained voice.

  “I just don’t understand why,” I said, frustrated that I might’ve played right into the man’s hands. “Why does he hate us so much? Why does he want to destroy us from the inside out? Why is he so consumed with that? What did we ever do to him?”

  Wes stared out over the road and exhaled with sagging shoulders as we slowed. “I don’t know,” he said quietly. “But we’re going to figure it out. And we’re going to stop him.”

  We came to a stop at a lonely red light and Wes turned to me, his expression insistent. “I know I’ve had my moments, Tara. Overprotective, controlling, always worrying and trying to push you behind me when danger comes around. But losing you like that ... it made me realize my way won’t work. We can’t operate where one follows and one leads. We’re in this together, side by side. You and me, we’re a team. You’re my mate, Tara, from the first moment I saw you. There was never any question in my mind that you and I were going to make it. And we are, I promise.”

  “We are a team,” I whispered, my breath filling the empty space between our mouths and drawing us closer. I looked up at where his unruly hair fell to the edge of his forehead, down to his wide eyes and parted mouth. The sight of him, so changed, offering himself this way, moved me. I thought fleetingly, once again, of how different this Wes was from the one I left behind, but then I focused on his words, on the way they filled the empty spaces left by our separation. I placed my hand on his cheek, running my palm over the shadowed stubble along his chin. “You are my mate,” I echoed. “We’re going to do this together.”

  He let go of my hands, slid his arm around my shoulders, and pulled me close, planting a kiss on my temple. I turned and offered my lips instead, tingling to the tips of my toes when he took the bait. Gordon’s voice piped up about teenaged hormones threatening his lunch but I ignored him and gave myself over to the kind of white noise that only ever happened with a really great kiss.

  Chapter Twelve

  Professor Flaherty’s house was nestled smack dab in crowded suburbia. I read the number on the mailbox to be sure and stared up at a sage-green two-story with white shutters, a manicured lawn, and a yard that overlapped both of her neighbors. It was picture perfect, unassuming, and the last thing I expected for someone like her. It was also not a very convenient safe house for a caravan full of fugitives.

  By the time we pulled up just before dawn, exhaustion had left me with a headache and droopy eyes. I was tired; mentally, physically, and whatever other way a person can be depleted.

  Wes parked at the curb, leaving room for Mr. Lexington to pull the van into the empty driveway, and cut the lights. Derek pulled in behind us and cut his lights as well. I didn’t see anyone out and about this early, but just in case, we sat in silence and scanned the empty street for movement before getting out.

  When he was satisfied, Wes turned to me. His hand had barely left mine since we got in, but now he pulled it free to sweep the hair back from my face. His brows were pinched in concern.

  “Are you sure it’s safe?” I asked.

  “Are you sure she’s home?”

  I sighed. “No to both,” I said.

  I grabbed the door handle but Wes stopped me. “You should wait here. I’ll go up and see.”

  “She doesn’t know you like she knows me,” I protested.

  Wes hesitated and then added, “I’ll take Astor.”

  I let go of the handle. “Fine. But you have five minutes before I come in after you.”

  A smile ghosted across his features, reminding me of the old Wes. He leaned in and planted a smacking kiss on my lips. “God, I’ve missed you saying stuff like that. I’ll be back in three,” he said and got out.

  My lips tingled from the kiss, and I smiled back as I watched him coax Astor from the van and lead him to the front door. Wes knocked and positioned himself at the opening with Astor tucked beside him. A moment later, the door opened. It was only a sliver and no light shone through to illuminate the face. I squinted, trying to make out what was happening, but the shadows swallowed them up. I gave the key half a turn, rolled my window down, and strained to hear, but my wolf still wasn’t cooperating. Not even with heightening my senses.

  I ached with longing for my animal.

  Without sound, I could only watch and try to interpret. They spoke for another moment and then the door opened wider and I caught sight of red hair spilling down past a feminine but strong set of shoulders. Astor bounced up and down where he stood and then leaned in as the two of them hugged.

  I exhaled.

  Wes turned and motioned at me to join them. I was halfway out of the car when someone pushed Professor Flaherty aside and flew out the door headed for me.

  “Tara!” A curtain of brown hair flew behind her as she ran toward me. She wore a bathrobe over flannel pajamas and a wide smile. Her relief was a force all its own. A tangible thing that engulfed us both the moment she threw her arms around me.

  “Mom,” I said, burying my face in her hair and inhaling what could only be lemon-scented furniture polish. Some things never changed.

  Another familiar voice behind my mother called out and I raised my head in time to see Grandma join us. She threw her arms around us both, crowding in and squeezing us tight in a group hug. “Thank God,” Grandma muttered and my chest swelled at the sound of her relief and being held in an embrace that included them both.

  I hadn’t realized just how much both of them mattered to me until I’d been taken from them. Standing in front of them now, I wasn’t sure how to say it out loud. The sound of car doors being pushed shut reminded me it wasn’t exactly the time or place anyway, and I reluctantly pulled away.

  My mother wiped her eyes and smiled at me. Grandma did the same but without the tears. “Are you okay?” my mother asked, looking me over.

  “I’m fine,” I assured them. “Just tired.”

  They both nodded. “Let’s get you and everyone else inside,” Grandma said.

  “You can rest. There will be plenty of time to talk later,” Mom added. “Come on.”

  I followed them as far as the front door where the group of us bottle-necked trying to get inside. Up ahead, Professor Flaherty greeted everyone and directed them to bedrooms, refrigerators, or bathrooms as needs dictated.

  “Tara,” Professor Flaherty said, surprising me with a warm hug. “It’s good to see you. I’m so glad you’re all right.”

  “Good to see you too,” I returned, returning the hug halfway between awkward and friendly.

  When she released me, I stepped back quickly. Behind me, I realized someone held back. “Mr. Lexington, you should come inside,” I said.

  He threw a look at the van, his set of keys dangling in his hand, but didn’t move. “And what about our ... guest?” he asked.

  Wes squeezed my arm and slid past me. “I’ll handle him.”

  “Guest?” Grandma echoed, brows wrinkling.

  I glanced at Wes and then back to Grandma, avoiding the curious stares from my mother and Professor Flaherty. I had no idea how they were going to take this, but there was no going back now. He and I were a package deal.

  The exhaustion made it all that much harder to ease into. I took a deep breath and decided to rip the bandage off quickly. “Gordon Steppe is in the van,” I explained.

  “What?�
� Grandma and Mom shrieked in unison.

  Professor Flaherty was silent. At my admission, she regarded me with sharp eyes and a neutral expression.

  “What in the Sam Hill is that man doing in your van, Lexington?” Grandma demanded. Suddenly it was his fault? I shook my head as the others returned from where they’d already wandered inside. Cambria and Derek hovered near the front, all of them watching the show without a word. Everyone knew better than to interrupt Grandma.

  “It was my decision,” I said and all eyes swiveled back to me again.

  Of all things, my stomach growled. Dizziness swept over me. I did not have the energy for this.

  “Steppe used Tara to experiment with blood bonding in order to manipulate the hybrids that chose their Werewolf side and now, she’s bonded with him,” Wes explained. I smiled tightly at him, grateful for his help. “It’s not ideal, having him here, but it does ensure he can’t use their connection to come after and hurt Tara again. Or anyone else for that matter. Now, Tara’s exhausted from trying to push him out so she needs rest more than any of us. Professor Flaherty, can you show us a room for Tara to sleep?”

  Grandma frowned, my mother blinked, and Professor Flaherty nodded. Thank goodness for Wes. “Certainly,” Professor Flaherty said. “This way.”

  “I’ll come back for Steppe in a moment. Let’s get you settled,” Wes said to me, ignoring the rest of them.

  I followed Professor Flaherty inside with Wes behind me, his hand on my back, guiding me along. Behind me in the doorway, I heard my mother and Grandma talking in quiet voices.

  “Do you think we should tell her now or wait?” my mom whispered.

  “Let’s wait,” Grandma said, sounding exhausted herself. “It’ll only stir her up and Wes is right. She’s going to need her strength against that man.”

  I knew I should probably care they were hiding something from me, but right now I only wanted that bed the professor was promising. With that in mind, I followed Professor Flaherty straight upstairs without a backward glance.

  The railing was sanded smooth underneath my fingertips, and the hallway upstairs smelled like pine. Carpet sank underneath my feet and I imagined it would be even cushier with bare feet.

  “You can have this room here. It’s already made up for you,” Professor Flaherty said. “I didn’t realize you were bringing so many or I’d have readied the other rooms,” she added.

  “I didn’t realize it either,” I said, following her inside the first door at the top of the stairs. The low lamp burning just inside the doorway sent a cozy orange glow over a full mattress covered in a Chevron-patterned quilt. The pine scent and wood-stained furniture was a strange contrast to the modern façade of the house’s exterior, but I decided to go with it.

  I turned and found Professor Flaherty staring at me. “I’m sorry,” I blurted before she could leave. Or yell at me. Or whatever that look preceded.

  “For what?” she asked.

  “For dropping in with all of these people and for putting you in danger and for...” My face fell as I realized the real reason for my apology. “For Astor.”

  “I’m not angry with you, Tara, for any of those things,” she said.

  “Well, you should be. He’s your closest friend. Like family. And I put him in danger.”

  “He put himself in danger. And he’s your family too. I know he’d do it all again if it meant protecting you so don’t apologize for a choice that wasn’t even yours to make in the first place. Or prevent.” She smiled wryly. “You know Astor. He would’ve done it with or without your permission.”

  Something loosened inside me and a weight lifted. “Thanks,” I said. “I thought something was wrong. You haven’t said much,” I said.

  “Just confused, I guess,” she said. “You said you and Steppe are blood bonded, right?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Why?”

  She tilted her head, staring at me as if searching for something. And coming up empty. “Nothing,” she said after a pause. “I just thought you’d be able to see...”

  She trailed off and shook her head, as if to clear it. From downstairs, something crashed. “Anyway, I’ll let you rest. Spare pajamas are in the top drawer and I left a toothbrush in the bathroom. I better get downstairs.”

  She disappeared before I could protest. Wes, who had been hovering near the door, came over and pulled me against him. His arms held tight and he tucked my head underneath his chin. “You all right?” he asked.

  “I am now,” I said. “What do you think she meant?”

  “Who knows ... Can we figure it out when you’ve had sleep?”

  “Yes.” I stood in the circle of his arms until he reluctantly pulled away. He turned down the covers and gestured to the space he’d created between layers of clean sheets. It was the best invitation I’d had all day.

  “I’m going to find something to change into first,” I said, going instead to the dresser.

  “I’m going to bring Steppe in, find a place to keep him and set up a schedule for someone to be watching him at all times, and then I’ll be back to check on you,” he said.

  I nodded. He kissed me on the forehead, his mouth lingering half a second longer than necessary before he slipped out.

  I changed into an oversized T-shirt and pair of pajama pants I found. For a split second, as I brushed my teeth, I considered removing the pants but the thought of Wes slipping in beside me scared me more than it thrilled me. I just didn’t have the energy to be sexy tonight. And with Steppe in my head and my mother down the hall, I couldn’t if I wanted to. So I rinsed my mouth out and kept the pants on.

  I slid in between the cool sheets and sighed, every muscle in my body going gloriously limp in the process. My eyes shut and I was pretty sure they wouldn’t open again even if I wanted them to. I breathed deeply in and out and felt my body relax another few inches.

  Besides Wes, this bed was the best thing I’d pressed my body to in weeks.

  Downstairs, a door slammed hard enough to shake the walls of my bedroom. Outside my window, someone shouted and below me, footsteps pounded, hurrying. Another door slammed.

  I sat up, this time listening to the echo left behind by the door and the perpetual hum of voices as they rose and fell. My pulse raced. Had we already been found?

  I waited, listening for another clue to help gauge the danger. More shouting, this time from inside the house. Raised voices all yelling something different, overlapping, drowning each other out.

  In my head, the bond, which I’d managed to dial back to an annoying whisper, sprang to full volume. This is not what you promised me when you kept me out of that cage, my dear. And when I didn’t answer, a second later Steppe’s voice came again. You may want to have a look at what your Dirty Blooded friend is up to. Not sure his agenda quite lines up with yours.

  Underneath the sarcastic calmness he exuded, there was the hint of fear. I threw the covers back and hurried out of the room and down the stairs.

  At the bottom, I almost ran into Victoria. She stood with her back to me, her attention focused on the living room.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, breathless from the adrenaline.

  Victoria mumbled something I didn’t catch and gestured to the crowd gathered in the living room. Cambria and Mr. Lexington stood near the back of the group but they, too, were spectators. In front of them, I caught sight of Grandma and Wes ducking in and out of the center of things but I couldn’t see enough to understand what was happening.

  “He is not happy about Steppe,” Victoria said and I realized she was repeating her answer from before.

  “Who?” I pressed, but she only pointed toward the others.

  Voices rose and the crowd was shoved backward. Cambria stumbled and almost fell but Mr. Lexington grabbed her elbow to steady her as they both backed away from the surge. I ran into it, Gordon’s voice in my mind growing louder, more adamant that I step in.

  “Tara, wait,” Cambria warned, but I ignored her and shouldere
d my way through. I slipped past Professor Flaherty and then Grandma and Derek and out the other side—right between a cowering Gordon Steppe and a growling Werewolf.

  “Tara, stop,” Wes called in a much quieter voice. I knew that tone; it meant whatever was happening was not good.

  I looked from Steppe, who already had a scratch across his forearm and cheek, to the wolf facing him. I blinked at it as familiarity washed over me. Even still, it had been so long that it took me a moment to place him.

  “George?” I asked, tilting my head as I took in the slightly off-center ears and the familiar streaks of blond in his fur.

  His recognition and relief were both short-lived as his temper took over. Now I understood Wes and Grandma and the rest when they’d cautioned me to stay away. George was wholly committed to his vengeance and there wasn’t anything more dangerous than a Werewolf consumed with rage.

  “Get out of my way,” George growled as he pushed past me to stand over Steppe.

  “Stop, you can’t hurt him,” I said, reaching for George to pull him back.

  But George jerked away and snapped his teeth at Steppe. “Don’t try to talk me out of it like the others,” George said. “Screw mercy and forgiveness and strategy or whatever you’re going to say. He deserves this. We deserve justice.”

  Before I could argue, he lunged at Steppe.

  “No!” I yelled. I managed, only barely, to yank on Steppe’s shoulder and pull him away in time for us both to get clear. Another hand darted in and shoved Steppe sideways. This time, George’s teeth narrowly missed Steppe’s midsection. He got a mouthful of carpet instead.

  Someone yelled, but George ignored it and straightened; I could already see his intention to attack again. Panic rose at the thought of Steppe being killed. The pain it would cause me—but also, the regret I knew George would feel after, when he finally calmed down. I knew better than he did what it felt like to take a life. I couldn’t let him live with that. Not even for someone like Steppe.

  Something wild rose and sliced its way into my veins. My ribs and muscles pulled to a taut line, squeezing tighter and tighter until all at once, something popped. My pants tore first and then, as my torso expanded and elongated, my shirt ripped free.