“The adults have given us their blessing. They’re going to sit this one out,” I said, staring out the blacked-out window. There was a small chip in the paint and when I looked just right, I could see the lines on the pavement whirring by us as we wound around the back roads Benny was intent on taking.
We still had no destination. “Go west,” Astor had said and no one had argued.
“Did she say why?” Cord asked with a decided lack of surprise coloring her words.
“She said they believe in me. In us.”
“Huh.”
“What?” I demanded.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m coming up empty on what about that scenario could have your panties in a knot.”
I shot a glance up at Cambria. She was still seated up front talking quietly with Benny and her mother. She laughed—it was short and cut off abruptly but it was there. And it made me feel a little better about everything.
Quietly, I told Cord about the visions and everything my mom had said. When I finished, she whistled low.
“Wait, you’re not going to back out, are you?” I asked. “Cord, you already promised—”
“Relax, I keep my word.”
I exhaled and forced myself to stay calm. My eyes sought the crack in the paint and I went back to staring at the yellow lines on the road.
Silence fell and I knew Cord was wrapped up in her own thoughts. I didn’t rush her.
“Steppe was—” she broke off and stared down at her hands.
“Not a good dad,” I said when she didn’t finish. “I figured it out.”
“Well that’s something. I always wondered if his version of events would be different. Less his fault or something.” She leaned forward, her elbows propped on her knees, until her hair created a curtain between us. I looked over, waiting it out this time. Cord was talking. To me. I didn’t want to ruin it.
“You saw it so I might as well tell you,” she said finally. She raised her head slowly and I was stunned to see tears brimming. “He was abusive. God, not that way. He never hit me,” she added quickly. “Abuse comes in so many forms, though. Words and lack of attention can be just as bad.” She shook her head.
“What happened?” I asked even though a huge part of me suddenly didn’t want to hear the story at all. Or watch her have to tell it. Maybe she just needed to say it. Maybe she knew I’d seen it already and that made it easier. Either way, I had to let her talk.
“My mother died when I was young. Three or four. I don’t remember much about her except that her death marked the before and after. Gordon—Dad—changed after she died. Not that he gets to use it as an excuse because obviously he wasn’t a saint beforehand, but after we lost her, he, I don’t know, gave himself permission to be an asshole. He would pick at you. Nag and wiggle his way in with words and insinuations and guilt trips that made you feel like you couldn’t do anything right. He was, essentially, a world leader and I lived in that shadow.
“When I hit middle school, it escalated. He was on me all the time about securing my future by making right choices. Academically, socially.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was destined to take his place but before that, I had to measure up. In sixth grade, the physical combat training started.”
She sat back and leaned her head against the seat; her eyes were on nothing inside this bus. “He never had to hit me. My trainer did it for him. But he never let up on the verbal assault. He would stay just to yell at me while I was getting my ass kicked. ‘You have to be tougher, better, smarter. You’re a girl and girls are weak. I should’ve had a son. You’ll have to work twice as hard to get their respect. To get mine.’ He had an answer for everything and all of it was designed to make me feel less; no matter how much better I was, it was never good enough.”
I tried to picture a Cord who stood by in silence while someone insulted or berated her. It was a difficult picture to put together. If I didn’t still have the brief snatches of memory from Steppe’s mind, I wouldn’t have been able to believe her.
This Cord sitting in front of me now was nothing like that girl.
“So you ran away,” I said softly.
“Eventually. Took me a long time to get there. I was fifteen and my weapons training was in full swing. I was on a camping trip with my trainer. It was summertime, hot as hell, so we went swimming in a creek. I didn’t think anything of it. I’d trained with him since I was ten. He was like an uncle or something. But that night ... while I was in my tent getting changed... he came in. I didn’t see him until it was too late.”
She fell silent, swallowed hard. I stared at her strong jaw, her muscled shoulders. Everywhere but her face. My chest ached for her. My throat burned—but I couldn’t allow myself to cry. That felt wrong somehow when she was sitting here dry-eyed.
“I didn’t see that,” I said finally.
“No, you wouldn’t have. Nothing happened. Well, nothing he had planned, anyway.” Justice and violence clashed in her eyes. “I killed him,” she said simply.
“You did what you had to do,” I said.
“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t lose any sleep over what I did. I knew the alternative and I don’t regret it. Anyway, I got out of there and called my—called Gordon. His response after I told him what happened was that I’d turned an unfortunate situation into a mess. He’d clean it up this once but next time, I should plan to handle it better.”
“Next time?” I repeated.
“I was a decently attractive young woman. Things like this were bound to happen. The sooner I understood that, the better. Those were his words.”
My jaw hung open wider and wider the more she talked. I’d known Steppe was a bad guy, but this? Telling your own daughter to expect rape and accept it?
“I never went home after that,” she said. “I cleaned out the little bit of savings I had, used it to pay some documents hacker to lose my paper trail and change my last name. I’ve been on my own ever since.”
“Cord, I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Don’t. I don’t want your pity. You of all people should get that.”
“I don’t pity you. Not a single bit,” I said honestly. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. If you had to go through that to make you who you are ... It sucks, but I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m proud of you. And I get you. Wow, never thought I’d say that.”
Her lips twitched, and I knew we’d reached a milestone.
“I get why this is so hard for you,” I said. “That part, at least, was something your—Steppe understood too. He knew the pressure he’d put on you and that it would be extremely hard to live underneath that if you took his place.”
“Was he sorry?” she asked, staring down at the calluses on her hands.
“He regretted the conversation that night,” I said, choosing my words carefully, but it didn’t fool Cord.
“But he didn’t disagree with what he’d said. I brought it on myself just having boobs.” She sighed.
I didn’t answer—I didn’t need to. “You can’t measure yourself against his truth,” I said instead.
“Can’t I?” she demanded. “Even if it’s only to make sure I don’t become like him, it’ll always be there. I can’t escape it so I might as well embrace it.”
“I never meant to force you.”
“You didn’t,” she said. “I think I always knew, no matter how far I ran, it’d always come down to this. And, if I’m honest, there’s a part of me that wants it. I want a chance to do some good for the people who deserve it. The ones he stepped on. There’s been so much collateral damage. It’s time to end that.”
“You’re talking about Bailey, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “He didn’t have anyone until he found us, The Cause. We need to get that back for everyone still alone out there. And anyone else who has ever been caught in the crossfire of my dad’s prejudice and persecution.”
“You’re going to make a great leader,” I said.
“You think? I mean, you can still have it if you want. I know you’re supposed to make some big choice and all that.”
I smiled. “I just did, Cord. I chose you.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Astor’s nose twitched and he rubbed his hands together like warming tinder.
“What the heck is he doing?” George whispered—loud enough to earn a glare from behind Astor’s thick goggles.
“I’m doing science,” Astor said crisply and turned back to the tree he stood hunched beside. Logan snorted but Astor ignored it.
George’s jaw opened and he shot a scowl at Logan. “Teacher’s pet,” George muttered and earned a dirty look from Logan—and the rest of us.
“Sshh. Let him work,” Cambria hissed.
I rubbed my hands over my arms, the evening air biting its way through my hoodie. October in Virginia and October in Colorado were two completely different things. I looked around for someone to share body heat—an instinct I’d gained from my wolf—but Wes was still back at the bus with Derek, doing his best to hide it underneath a ginormous pile of pine branches and dead leaves.
I shivered and watched as Astor poured a milky liquid into a smaller, already half-full container. His tongue stuck out, caught between his teeth as he concentrated on measuring the chemicals exactly right.
“I’m starving. I hope that cabin has a stocked fridge,” George said.
In unison, half the group turned and said, “Shut up!”
George scowled and Emma huddled closer to him, wrapping her arm tightly around his. I suspected it was more an effort in saving George than borrowing warmth.
My stomach growled too, but I ignored it. It had been a long three days on that bus and everyone was ready to get some separation that included walls and some peace and quiet. After two drugstores, one grocery store, and six fast food stops, we’d made it. Without a single attack or interception from an angry webinar viewer. So far. Now we just needed Astor’s chemical cocktail to get us inside.
Apparently, it wasn’t something you could rush.
Behind me, Benny stepped forward, craning his neck until he invaded my personal space.
“Back up,” I said, grouchy from lack of sleep. I’d napped on and off but mostly, I’d bought bad gas station coffee and played hangman with Cambria. I couldn’t afford any more visions that might make me doubt our plan.
“Sorry, but I don’t see anything,” Benny said. “Do you see anything?” he asked Cambria’s mother. Piper, according to her one brief conversation with me two days ago when she’d introduced herself only to ask me what I wanted from the drive-thru. Other than that, she’d stayed far away from me while somehow managing to stay close to Cambria. And Benny, which was kind of gross.
She’d asked me to call her Piper instead of Ms. Hebert. Normally, manners would’ve made that impossible, but one look at her skinny jeans and heeled boots and it wasn’t hard to tell Ms. Hebert was determined to get younger with every birthday.
I wasn’t thrilled with their being here, but we didn’t have much choice. It was either allow them to tag along or be dropped off at the base of a mountain and climb up it in the dark. I’d chosen the first, but now, listening to their whispers, giggles, and kisses behind me, I was swiftly regretting it.
A loud pop broke through the whisperings of the group and I looked over just in time to see an electric spark flash. The liquid Astor poured from the cup sizzled and evaporated into a thick pillar of steam before it ever hit the ground. A stray spark shot up and zapped Astor’s hand and he dropped the empty cup. “Ow.” Astor wrung his hands, mumbling, and shoved his thumb into his mouth.
“Astor, what can we do to help?” I asked.
“Just be quiet,” he said with a pointed look at George. “I need quiet.”
We all fell silent and Astor began again, muttering words in a language I couldn’t understand and rubbing his palms together. He leaned in and caught his lip between his teeth in concentration, staring as if something in the empty air had caught his attention.
Slowly, a thin line of electric blue light formed at Astor’s fingertips and lengthened in the air. It shot left and right, growing quickly into a wide opening. In the center, the air popped and crackled but otherwise, the view of the ground on the other side was unchanged.
Astor looked up and beamed. “Got it.”
“It looks the same,” Benny said.
“Think so?” I asked. And, without waiting for an invitation, I stepped through. The second my foot landed on the grass inside the growing electric window, the cabin appeared to me in the center of the clearing.
It looked untouched, exactly the same as when we’d left. My chest tightened when I thought of all that had happened since then. On the other side, Benny still had brows raised in skepticism. “Come on, Benny,” I called, impatient. “Don’t make me come and get you.”
Timidly, he approached the hole and put one scuffed combat boot through to the grass on the other side. Instantly, his face lit up and he wobbled, finally losing his balance and toppling through. He landed at my feet with a look of awe. “This is awesome,” he said, struggling to his feet and staring at the house.
His T-shirt, sporting a picture of open-mouthed Pac-Man chasing ghosts with the words “Eat me” printed on it, was streaked with dirt. I rolled my eyes.
One by one, the rest of them stepped through. By now, the hole had widened to become almost as large as a doorway. Astor came through it last, looking smug and satisfied with himself. “How long will it last?” I asked.
“The electric charge won’t be visible after another hour or two,” he said. “But the hole will remain. I cannot close it without reconstructing the entire perimeter of wards, which would take time we don’t have.”
“He’s right. Time’s wasting. Let’s get inside.” Piper, Cambria’s mom brushed past us and climbed the porch steps. Her heeled boots were loud and heavy against the wooden stairs. “Come on, Cambria,” she called.
Cambria exchanged a look with me. “Duty calls,” she muttered and followed her mom inside.
I trailed behind, doing a full lap around the house before I joined the others. I met George in the front yard. He was coming from the woods and gave me a knowing look as we climbed the steps together where Emma waited. The lights were on inside, casting an orange gleam over his features.
“Everything good around back?” George asked.
“I don’t see any signs of visitors,” I said. “You?”
He climbed the steps and slipped his hand into Emma’s and squeezed. Something passed between them and when he answered again; his voice was gentle and included Emma. “I checked Janie. It didn’t look disturbed.” He leaned down to press his lips to Emma’s hair and added, “We’ll go see her tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” she said quietly, her eyes shining.
“I’d like to go too,” I said. “If that’s okay with you, Emma?”
Emma blinked. “Of course, Tara. You knew her as well as I did. Maybe better,” she added. There was no trace of accusation or grudge and I smiled back at her, grateful. Janie had been Emma’s sister, but she’d been my responsibility. When the darkness had taken her, I’d done what I had to in order to protect myself and the others. But that didn’t make killing any easier. For me or for Emma.
“It’s a date,” George said, forcing his voice lighter. He opened the door, held it wide for us. “Let’s get inside. It’s freezing out here and I don’t have my fur coat.”
We slipped inside and soaked in the warmth and light. Despite what we were going to do tomorrow there was plenty of both, I realized as I stood in the tiny foyer. My friends, the people I loved most, were here. And that was enough to strengthen me, to strengthen us all.
I found Cambria and Piper, arguing in front of the kitchen sink while water ran from the faucet. Neither one paid it any mind as it escaped down the drain. “I’m not doing it. I like it the way it is,” Cambria said.
Piper pressed her lips together and pi
nched the bridge of her nose. Cambria only seemed to dig in. I suspected this was a body language they each knew well and had often repeated. “Cambria, you need to look presentable. There will be a large audience and—”
“No,” Cambria shot back. “I need to look like myself. That’s the only way this will work. Tell her, Tara,” Cambria said and my feet stalled.
“Tell her what?” I asked, wary of inserting myself.
“My mom thinks I should dye my hair back to the original color. Get rid of the blue streaks. She says it’ll look more presentable,” Cambria said, mimicking the last word in a nasty voice.
Her mother glared for a second longer and then turned to me, her expression melting into a sugary smile. She extended her hand toward me, a ring on every finger, and waved me closer. “Yes, Tara, come and tell us what you think.”
“Okay,” I said uncertainly.
Up close, I could see she wasn’t as young as she’d looked when I’d spoke to her on the darkened bus. Lines creased the corners of her eyes and mouth and her trendy top and fitted jeans reeked of stale cigarettes and alcohol. But the look she gave me was surprisingly direct.
“I was just trying to explain to Cambria that it’s best if she make a good impression tomorrow.” She leaned in to me and lowered her voice to a stage whisper that was almost as loud as her speaking voice. “And she’s not very good at making those types of decisions for herself. As you can see.” She gestured to Cambria, who wore, along with her neon-blue hair streaks, faded black jeans and a white blouse with tiny skull-and-crossbones designs printed on it. For Cambria, it was conservative.
Piper either didn’t know that or didn’t care.
I hesitated, hating to get into the middle of a spat, especially so soon after their reuniting. But one look at Cambria’s expression and I made up my mind. This girl had always had my back—against any enemy. And I would always, no questions asked, have hers.
Piper propped her hand on her curved hip and watched me expectantly.
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