Broken Blood

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “It’s just us, Derek,” I called.

  Alex’s hand, which had been inching toward the stake I knew he kept in his boot, relaxed and hung back at his side again.

  A second later, Derek appeared as a brown wolf, his paws silently falling as he came to meet us. “Hey.” He frowned at my appearance and I remembered the cabin, the borrowed clothes. “That’s why we lost your trail,” he muttered.

  I didn’t feel like getting into it. “Have you seen Wes?” I asked.

  Derek cast a long look into the woods. “He’s not back yet. Still out looking for you.”

  Guilt worked its way in, but I didn’t feel like getting into that either. Derek glanced to Alex. “How’d you find her?” he asked suspiciously.

  “I don’t rely on scent,” Alex said with more than a little smugness coating his words. Derek’s eyes narrowed and Alex sighed like he knew better than to keep goading him. “I’m a tracker. I followed her trail.”

  “Huh,” Derek grunted, and his gaze cut back to me. “Glad you’re safe. Your mom was looking for you.”

  “Thanks.” I started to go, but then remembered the other concern. It wasn’t one I felt like asking the others. “Did Olivia’s body...? I mean, someone should—”

  “Jack and Cord took care of it,” he said. Cord. Of course she did.

  “And Steppe?” Alex asked.

  “They moved him into a room upstairs with a bed. He’s bruised and has a nice hole in his stomach, but he’ll mend.”

  “I’ll be out later to relieve you,” I said.

  He grunted again and moved on, breaking into a swift stride as he continued his patrol of the woods. Alex and I slipped through the back gate and made our way to the house.

  The back door clicked closed behind us just as the front door opened and slammed shut again. Across the space, I spotted Wes. He saw me and halted in his hurry, his eyes cutting from me to Alex and back. He wore a pair of ragged sweats that, even from here, smelled like someone else and an oversized sweatshirt. A leaf was stuck to his hair and I wondered how long he’d been on two legs.

  “I’m going to check on Steppe,” Alex said.

  “No, stay,” Wes said in a tight voice. He came over and pulled me into a quick hug. I picked the leaf out of his hair and hugged him back. “I was worried,” he said quietly. And before I could offer an explanation, he stepped back and gestured for us to follow. “Come on.”

  “What’s going on?” I asked, trailing behind him. His expression was harried—and it looked like more than just worry over my personal time.

  “We need to find Edie and the others,” he said without stopping.

  “For what?” I asked.

  But he didn’t answer. He crossed the empty kitchen and circled back around to the living room and down the back hall. In one hand, he held a large rock. With the other, he pushed open doors and, when he found the room empty, ducked out again, intent on his search. I caught Alex’s eye and he shrugged.

  “There you are,” Wes said, poking his head into the last room. Alex and I followed him inside. I caught a few words of broken conversation before it abruptly halted at the sight of us.

  “This is not good news. It will only complicate—” Grandma said.

  Grandma, Professor Flaherty, Professor Kane, and my mother all looked up with matching startled expressions. What the heck had we interrupted? And why were they meeting without us?

  “Wes? Alex, Tara? What’s going on?” Professor Flaherty asked.

  Grandma and Professor Kane both gave us curious looks. Or, they gave the boys curious looks. By the time their expressions landed on me, it was more irritated concern.

  I hung back near the door, the room way too crowded between all the people and their opinions.

  Wes held out the rock he’d been carrying. “I found this in the yard,” he said.

  “What is it?” Professor Kane took it and turned it over in his weathered hand. “There’s a letter attached.”

  “Read it,” Edie said.

  “Who would leave a note with a rock?” Professor Flaherty said.

  “I think it was meant to come in the window,” Wes explained. “I guess they gave up and ran off when Olivia...” A few eyes shifted to me and Wes changed directions. “When they realized they’d lost.”

  “No, I think this was only meant for us because they lost,” Kane said, his scar pulling tight as he frowned.

  “What do you mean?” my mother asked.

  Kane held up the rock. “See there. It says Give us Steppe or go to war. I think this was a contingency. If Olivia had been successful, Steppe wouldn’t be alive to give them.”

  Grandma sighed. “The man has a point.”

  None of them seemed the least bit surprised Olivia had turned on Steppe to begin with. Then again, neither was I. And, if I poked around enough, neither was Steppe.

  “Well, obviously, we can’t give them what they want,” my mother said.

  “Which means they’ll be back,” Grandma added. She and Kane shared a look and she slowly nodded.

  “What’s going on?” Wes asked.

  “Professor Kane suggested we split up and I think it’s the best way. We’re a bunch of sitting ducks holed up in this house,” Grandma said. Her eyes met Alex’s and something passed between them. “Professor Flaherty is going to return to Wood Point with Kane. As will Cambria, Logan, and Victoria.”

  “What? No,” I said, stepping forward at last.

  “It’ll keep them safe,” Grandma said gently.

  “I’ll go with them,” Alex said and Grandma nodded like that had been the plan all along. I tried not to take that as another betrayal.

  “That doesn’t—We can’t split up,” I said. “It’s what they want. They’re just waiting for us to leave—”

  “We can’t stay here forever,” my mother said.

  I looked at their faces, one by one, and my shoulders sagged. Clearly, they’d made up their minds. Telling me was just a formality. Which also meant my friends already knew. “What do Cambria and Logan say?” I asked.

  “They agree it’s the best course,” Professor Kane said, but I caught the way my mother’s eyes slid away.

  “Do they?” I pressed.

  “Tara, don’t start this,” Grandma warned.

  “Start what?” I asked. “I’m just saying, it’s interesting my friends all know the plan; in fact, everyone in the house seems to know the plan except for me.”

  “It’s not like that. It was their choice. They needed to be consulted before we could reach a decision,” my mother said in a hard voice.

  Heat crept up into my neck and face and I took a step closer to her, the rest of them fading away. This was so typical. My mother always inserting herself, shutting me out in some twisted version of protectiveness. “Right. We,” I echoed sarcastically. I folded my arms over my chest. “Well, if it’s we then tell me, what were you four discussing when we came in?”

  Professor Flaherty, Kane, and Grandma all shared a look and then aimed it at my mother, but she ignored them in favor of our stare down.

  “Well?” I prompted.

  “Is there something you’re not telling us?” Wes asked and I smiled.

  If I hadn’t been committed to this alpha-stare game my mom was playing, I could’ve kissed him for it.

  “Maybe we shouldn’t—”

  “Shut up, Alex,” I snapped. “Mom?”

  She sighed and Edie scowled. “They’ve formed an inquiry board to look into Steppe’s ... dealings,” Mom said slowly.

  “Who formed a board?” I asked. “Hunters?”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “Ex-CHAS board members and other prominent community members. They’ll conduct an investigation and offer a verdict when it’s complete.”

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” I asked.

  My mom hesitated. The others looked grim. “What?” I pressed. “Someone freaking tell me already.”

  “If he’s guilty, they’ll give Steppe to the Werewolves
themselves,” Alex said finally.

  All of their hesitations clicked into place.

  “There is one advantage,” Grandma said. “I’ve managed to secure Alex a place on the board.”

  I whirled on him. “You knew about this?” I demanded. “This whole time? During our walk, spilling your story, repairing this,” I said, gesturing between us. “You knew about this inquiry board and didn’t tell me.”

  “I didn’t know I’d made it,” he protested, but I was unmoved. “Sorry,” he mumbled with a furtive glance at Grandma.

  I shook my head. “Of course,” I muttered.

  “Of course what?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” I turned back to my mom and the others. “If Steppe’s guilty, he’ll die. Fine. It’s what he deserves. It’s justice,” I said. “But here we are repeating history. Keeping things from each other. I thought we were past that. I specifically remember that night on the gazebo,” I said, my eyes burning into my mother’s. “When you gave me the third degree and I thought we fixed things. We promised not to do this anymore.”

  “I knew you’d say that,” my mother said. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you. Your hunger for justice is going to hurt you. How do you think it will affect you if Gordon is executed? Do you see your uncle? Do you see the damage caused by losing someone he was bonded with? It could kill you or permanently damage you. I can’t let that happen,” she said, her voice rising to nearly a yell.

  The others shifted uncomfortably, but I couldn’t see them through the hot tears burning as I struggled to blink them back and finish this fight. “You have no idea what will happen to me. I can handle it,” I said.

  “But how do you know that?” she asked.

  “Because it’s already happened!” I roared.

  “What?” She blinked, the anger immediately leaking away into worry.

  “Tara, when? Are you all right?” Grandma asked, concern dripping from her words.

  Professor Kane and Flaherty stayed silent, but everyone’s attention was riveted on me. Wes stepped back so we were shoulder to shoulder and slipped his hand into mine. I squeezed, grateful for once for his mind-reading capabilities. He understood.

  “More than once,” I admitted. “When I was with the hybrids in the woods and ... several times when I was with Steppe.”

  Like a moth to a flame, I felt him slip into the front row of my mind. Sorry I’m late, was his greeting and he dove into the vault I’d tried locking away of the conversation preceding this moment. I sighed as he cracked it open and let himself in to explore.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” my mom asked.

  “Because you don’t react well to the dangerous parts,” I said. She opened her mouth as if to argue and I said, “Specimen A, this conversation.” She shut her mouth again.

  “Tara, Steppe is different,” Grandma warned. “You said it yourself.”

  To Fee. Not to her. But apparently, that was the same thing. “I know that,” I snapped.

  “No, you don’t,” she said, her voice suddenly firm in that no-nonsense tone she used just before entering a fight. It made me shut up. It made everyone shut up. “I don’t mean he’s different. He is, but what I mean is, the Werewolves or Hunters in charge of his execution, depending on the parties involved, will draw it out. They will want to hurt him. Retribution, justice, whatever you want to call it. They won’t make it painless for him, which makes it different than the other times. You need to consider all of the possible outcomes here. Make sure you can handle the worst-case scenario.”

  “And what’s the worst-case scenario?” Wes asked.

  Grandma faced him, her expression grim. “Honestly,” she said. “That the Inquiry Board will find him innocent. And the verdict will start a war.”

  “Best case is that he’s guilty and executed,” I said, finally realizing their real concern.

  “Yes,” Grandma confirmed sadly.

  Inside my mind, Steppe was thoughtful. I could practically feel my brain buzzing with all of his calculations, strategies, and discarded plans. There were flashes of his surrender, his imminent death, what would happen if he gave in. All of them were quickly cast aside in favor of some devious diversion or another. Mentally, I shoved him out of my way, and refocused as Wes broke the silence.

  “The best way to solve all of these problems would be for us to sever her bond with Steppe before the verdict is delivered,” Wes said.

  “Obviously,” Grandma began. “But that’s just not possible without—”

  “I’m not severing the bond,” I said.

  Wes frowned at me. “Tara, after what happened with Olivia, I think you should consider the hold he has—”

  “No. We need this connection,” I said, falling silent as Steppe’s mental musings continued to shove their way to the forefront.

  “It hasn’t done us any good so far,” Wes pointed out. We shared a look and I knew he read my thoughts easily enough. Cord, I thought and Steppe mentally scowled. But Wes was undeterred.

  Around me, the conversation swirled with speculations that included a hypothesis as to the possibility of redirecting or severing without harming me. I ignored all of them and concentrated on Steppe. There was something there and in the chaos of this room, I couldn’t connect the entire thought train. I couldn’t see if it was authentic or if he was playing me.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and tried blocking them all out.

  “Tara?” Professor Flaherty asked and they all fell silent.

  I felt their eyes on my face, but I kept my lids shut. Steppe was working something up. I could feel his web weaving its way around his central idea. Flashes of a speech, of words like “my successor” and “well-deserved retirement” floated in and out. A podium, a roomful of people—no, a video feed like all the others. But he was imagining all of the shock and mayhem that would follow. It slipped away in the midst of a roaring crowd of Hunters and I couldn’t quite reach whatever back room of his mind he’d locked it inside.

  I growled at how well he could retract and produce his own thoughts for me when all of mine seemed on display for him.

  “What is it?” Wes asked.

  I opened my eyes, heading for the door. “I need to talk to Steppe,” I said.

  “Why, what’s going on?” Wes pressed.

  “I don’t know, but if I’m right, this proves the effectiveness of the bond, and we need to keep it,” I said. “I’ll find you later. Don’t do anything.”

  I left them all standing in silence and hurried down the hall and up the stairs. I didn’t bother to ask anyone what room he was in. I already knew.

  At the door, I paused. The voices coming from the other side confirmed what I’d gleaned through the bond. I turned the knob and stepped inside.

  “Logan,” I said.

  He looked up from where he stood over Steppe, a half-filled glass of water in his hand. His eyes widened when he saw me. “You’re back. I was worried,” he said.

  “I’m fine,” I assured him,

  “They told me about Olivia,” he said quietly. With concern—as if it were my loss to mourn. Maybe it was.

  “Inconvenient,” I said, brushing his words aside. I pushed the door shut behind me. Logan narrowed his eyes, unconvinced, but he let it go.

  “How’s the patient?” I asked.

  “Difficult,” he said and then, without warning, flipped the cup on its side and poured the contents on Steppe’s face.

  Steppe sputtered and strained against the restraints that held his wrists and ankles to the bedframe. Logan grinned.

  “Why is he wearing his suit?” I asked amid Steppe’s colorful curses.

  Logan shrugged. “I think whatever he was wearing before was dirty. This was all we had left.”

  I started to say something about Jack probably having something wearable, although admittedly a little big, but thought better of it. “I need to talk to the patient,” I said. “You can take a break if you want. Check on Victoria.”

  “Nice
try. She’s resting. I’ll stay.”

  “Logan, I’m not going to let him go or anything,” I said.

  “I’m not worried about that.”

  “What are you worried about?” I asked.

  “Edie made me swear on a venomous Werewolf tooth that I wouldn’t leave him alone with two specific people. You’re at the top of the list. I’m staying.”

  “Who else is on the list?” I asked.

  “Cord.” Logan shuddered as he stepped back and leaned against the far wall. “Your grandma is one scary lady.”

  I rolled my eyes but I couldn’t argue. “Fine, you can stay.”

  I pulled up the single chair beside the bed and sat. Steppe had recovered from his dousing but eyed me with a curled lip. I glanced back at Logan, who pulled his ball cap low over his eyes and leaned back, unconcerned. I turned to face Steppe again. “Don’t look at me like that. If Logan did this, you definitely deserved it,” I said.

  Steppe scowled.

  “He was talking crap about my hat,” Logan said, adjusting the worn blue baseball cap he never took off. “I love this hat.”

  “He does love that hat,” I said.

  “What do you want?” Steppe asked. “And whatever it is, couldn’t we communicate remotely? I’m not in the mood for visitors.” He stared pointedly at the popcorn ceiling.

  “Not in the mood or too busy strategizing your great escape?” I asked. “I know what you’re up to,” I said when he didn’t answer. “Are you really that incapable of real human emotion that you would betray your own daughter—again?”

  “I don’t have a daughter,” he hissed.

  “And now the cock can crow,” Logan said.

  Both Steppe and I turned to look at him with drawn brows. “What?” I said.

  “You know the story in the Bible where Peter denies Jesus three times before the rooster crows? No? Huh. Tough crowd.”

  I shook my head and turned back to Steppe. “Don’t worry. You’re not in danger of having to actually be parental,” I said. “I’ve never met someone less willing to admit their parentage. You must’ve done something truly evil.”

  Steppe didn’t meet my eyes or offer up an answer. In the far corners of his mind, images sprang up. I could feel the effort it took to shove them back, but a few slipped out and what I saw was a repeat of that first moment the knowledge of their connected had seeped in. I sat back, unable to bring it up out loud.