I caught a glimpse of a deep scowl set on a face much younger than I’d imagined and shifted my position for a better look. The man standing at the center of the suits wore soft gray that set him apart from his minions. His face was angular and lean but even through the layers, I could see wiry muscle. The entire picture was intimidating enough to make me sorry for whomever he was laying into. I strained my neck to catch a glimpse of his victim, but the suits made it impossible to see.
“CHAS has a singular mission, and that’s to keep monsters like these away from the human population. No one’s going to get in the way of that.” He poked a finger at whomever he was speaking to. His eyes were thundercloud gray.
“Wow,” I said under my breath.
“Told you,” Cambria shot back.
“Is that Steppe?”
“Yup. Who’s he talking to?”
I shrugged. We crept closer as Steppe spoke again, straining to see. I caught sight of a broad shoulder and tanned bicep and kept moving until the face came into view. When I saw him, I pulled up short and Cambria ran into the back of me.
“What the …?” she trailed off as she caught sight of him too.
Wes spoke, responding to Steppe’s outburst in a low voice. Dangerously low. I couldn’t make out the words from this far but whatever they were, they definitely had a negative effect on Steppe. I shoved forward as Steppe spoke again.
“I don’t care what they want or who’s in charge of them. You run your operation your way, I’ll do the same. The Hunter community is not going to stand for this. If we don’t hunt them down, the enemy will only use them against us.”
Wes’s jaw flexed, his voice strained. “Sir, with all due respect, they deserve a choice.”
“They made their choice when they attacked you, wouldn’t you say?” Wes opened his mouth, likely ready to argue, but Steppe went on. “I don’t have to defend my decision to you. Your organization is lucky to even be recognized after everything you’ve done.”
Wes’s eyes widened. “Everything we’ve done? We do nothing but support you, even though you’d rather kill us than work with us.” Steppe didn’t argue that point, and Wes’s hands balled into fists. “Just tell me they get immunity if they join us.”
Steppe’s eyes narrowed to slits and he leaned forward so they were nose to nose. “Fine. If they join you, they’re spared. For now. You just better hope I don’t find them first.”
Wes didn’t blink. “You couldn’t hunt down a Werewolf if he left a trail of breadcrumbs behind.”
Steppe’s lips pressed into a hard line. “Your disrespect is noted. One of these days, you won’t be surrounded by your gang of misfits, and we’ll settle this.”
“We can settle it now,” Wes shot back. “This is between us. They won’t interfere.”
“Loyalty’s overrated,” he sneered. “Isn’t that what got your little friend killed?”
“Don’t talk about Bailey. He was ten times the man you are, even at fifteen,” Wes said.
“Yet he’s the one you’ll bury tomorrow. Maybe you should put him next to your parents, with the other failures.”
Wes’s fists tightened. I watched the decision being made in his expression. Steppe must’ve seen it too, because at that exact moment, Steppe moved back, leaving one of his guards exposed in front of him. Either the switch didn’t register to Wes, or he didn’t care. He cocked his fist back and smashed it into the guard’s face.
The guard staggered back at the blow. I held my breath as he stumbled, waiting for him to fall and for Wes to leap—or worse, shift. Somehow, the man managed to stay on his feet. He dabbed a hand gingerly against his lip. It came away with red on it, where the skin split at the corner. He rounded on Wes, eyes hard and set. Without a single spoken command, every single one of the dark-suited minions produced a metal-tipped stake and held it at the ready toward a shaking, convulsing Wes.
“Shit,” Derek said from beside me. His arms were taut at his sides, his expression grim. “If he shifts, this’ll get ugly.”
“Uh, I think it already is,” Cambria said.
I ignored her. My heart was pounding. Steppe was an ass. That had officially been established. But Wes couldn’t fight him—guards included. Not with this many stakes pointed his way. I took a step forward, ready to push my way through, but Derek’s hand on my arm stopped me.
“No way, you can’t go up there,” Derek said in a low voice.
“I have to talk sense into him,” I hissed.
He shook his head. “Steppe will just use you to bait him again. You’ll only make it worse.”
“Fine. Can you make him stop?” I pleaded with Derek.
“I can try. No promises I won’t change my mind and help him.” Derek shoved through the crowd as Steppe marched toward Wes. The rest of the crowd stood, stakes drawn but making no move to intervene. By the expression on their faces, they were enjoying the show.
“Wes, dude, let’s take a walk,” Derek said.
Wes glared past the guard at Steppe. “I’m not done,” he said.
“Yes. You are.” Grandma appeared in front of Wes, her mouth set in a hard line. “You can take a walk with Derek or with me.”
Wes turned away, shaking with the effort of remaining human.
Then, Steppe smiled, his upper lip curling back from his teeth. It distorted his smooth features. “One day,” he said so low I barely caught it, “you and I will meet alone. And I will remember this.”
Wes said nothing.
Derek tried putting his free hand on Wes’s shoulder, but Wes shrugged it off and stomped away, pushing through the crowd, his expression furious. He walked right by without even seeing me.
“Wes,” I called, running after him. “Wes!”
He didn’t stop until he’d rounded the corner of the house. “What?” he growled, whirling.
I pulled back, bumping into Cambria. I opened my mouth and closed it again, unsure what to say. I’d never seen him lose control like that before. It wasn’t like him.
“We’ve got to calm him down,” Derek said.
I looked back at Wes. He was still shaking—violent, convulsing shivers—and his pupils were dilated. His eyes met mine and he took a deep breath, held it, blew it out.
“Wes?” I kept my voice low and even, hoping it would be soothing.
“What?” His voice was slightly calmer, though he was still shaking.
“What just happened?” I asked.
He ran a hand through his hair so it stood on end. “He makes me crazy,” he said. And he did look it, with his disheveled ’do and unfocused gaze.
Derek and I exchanged a look. “Hey, Cambria, do you want to take a walk or something?” he asked.
She nodded. “Walking sounds fabulous,” she said solemnly.
I watched them head in the opposite direction of the CHAS crowd. “I would’ve punched him too,” I said when we were alone.
That got his attention. His breathing slowed and he attempted a smile. “I would’ve had to peel you off him.” His expression was less manic now; the shaking had almost stopped.
“I almost decided to join you,” I admitted. “After that crack he made about Bailey and your parents.” His expression clouded, and I decided it might be better to change the subject. “What’s your deal with him, anyway?”
“Well, for starters, he’s an asshole, in case you missed that.”
“I noticed it.”
“Add to that the fact that he hates Werewolves, and those of us who stand for something besides ‘slaughter now, ask questions later,’ and you’ve got yourself an accurate picture of Gordon Steppe, director.” The last word came out on a wave of sarcasm.
“And is it safe to say this isn’t the first time you guys have had this argument?”
“Not the first and not the last.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have lost it. He’s not worth it, and I have a responsibility.”
“You don’t owe me an apology. I get it. Like I said, I almost joined
you, dark-suited minions or not.”
“Yeah, but Jack would’ve killed me. He still might. I’m supposed to be setting an example as a leader for peace.” He laughed. “There’s some irony for you.”
“Don’t beat yourself up. You’re doing a great job.” He arched a brow at me. “Okay, today excluded,” I amended.
“I don’t know,” he said, looking over his shoulder at the corner of the house that led to all things CHAS. “I feel like I’m losing it. I’m supposed to be proving myself capable, levelheaded, responsible. All I did was prove to them I’m nothing more than a hot-headed kid.”
“You’re all of the things you’re supposed to be. Smart, wise, and definitely responsible. You’re always so by the book these days.” I scrunched up my nose and made a face, like the idea of him being good offended me. It got him to smile. “And your dad would be proud,” I added softly.
His gaze sharpened. More than anything, that mattered to him.
I hugged him and he relaxed against me. Any trace of tension or scent of emerging wolf melted.
“Thank you. I needed this.” He spoke with his mouth against the hollow of my neck. I shivered where his breath tickled my skin.
“Me too,” I whispered. I tried relaxing into his embrace, the way he’d done with me. I wanted so much for this to be all I needed to relinquish some of the stress that weighed me down. But, it only lifted for as long as the embrace lasted. When I pulled away, it re-settled itself against my shoulders.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
Wes ran a hand down my cheek, smoothing my hair back from my face. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “Thanks to you.”
“You’re a horrible liar.”
“It’s that obvious?”
“You don’t go around punching people just because you’re having an off day.”
“It’s … everything, really. Bailey.” He closed his eyes against the pain that contorted his features. When he opened them, the agony was muted behind his lids. “George. The hybrids. Whoever this is coming after you. And I can’t do a damn thing about any of it.” I waited for him to add my whole “shifting, then killing” drama to the list, but he didn’t.
“Wes—”
“Don’t say it’s going to be okay, because we both know it isn’t. Not unless we fix it ourselves.” There was a gleam in his eye I wasn’t used to seeing.
“What are you saying?”
“I talked to Jack about that Astor guy.”
“And?”
“And he shut me down the minute I asked. No information, no details, no reason why he wouldn’t talk about it, except to say the guy’s unstable and leave it alone.”
“Same thing my grandma said.”
“Right, and normally I would say we need to listen to them but …”
“But what?”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learned about you, it’s that you take what most would consider an order and turn it into a suggestion.” The gleam in his eye deepened. “And in this particular case, if you wanted to do it your way, I’d have your back.”
“What are you saying? We should run away? Find the guy anyway?” I couldn’t believe this. It was so unlike Wes to behave like this. “Jack and Fee would kill you. I can’t even imagine what my mother would do to whatever Jack and Fee left behind. And you’re supposed to be a leader.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Shit.” The gleam faded. He ran his hand through his hair, then shoved his fists into his pockets. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I hate having so many problems and no solutions. I’m sick of the diplomacy, the politics, the talking. I want to do something. For us. For Bailey…”
“I know it’s frustrating. We’ll figure it out,” I said. I cocked my head to the side. “You know what’s funny. Any other time, I’d be the one venting to you about the lack of options and you’d be reassuring me that we’d figure it out.”
His mouth quirked upward. He dropped a kiss on my nose. “You’re right. We make a good team. As long as we don’t both lose our cool at the same time. Speaking of losing your cool, what’s the deal with you and your mom?”
“What? Oh.” I’d almost forgotten he’d read that last night, back when I didn’t have to speak aloud for him to hear me. “She wants to be able to trust me, but I get the feeling she wants me to earn it.”
His brows lifted. “Sounds reasonable.”
“Right, except that haven’t I been earning it my whole life? All those times she left me on my own while she worked? And all of the decisions I had to make without her? Meals I had to microwave? It’s not like I ever got into trouble before all the Hunter stuff started. I mean, doesn’t that count for anything?”
“I guess maybe you should ask her that,” he said.
“Yeah, I guess. When did you start sounding so much like a grown-up?”
He grinned in a way that heated my insides. “What can I say? I’m wise beyond my years.” I stuck out my tongue and he laughed. “That’s not helping your case for being a grown-up.”
“Funny, because it sure feels like grown-up-level stress. Between George and the hybrids and my mother, I don’t even know where to start.”
“We’re going to find the hybrids.”
My voice dropped to barely a whisper. Not because I was afraid of someone overhearing, but because thinking about it made me desperate. “Will it even make a difference if we do? What if they can’t be saved? What if they won’t? And what if—” I broke off and bit my lip.
“Say it.”
“What if they keep coming after me, and I end up killing everyone?”
“You won’t.”
“You don’t know that. I couldn’t stop myself before. It could happen again.”
He ran a hand through his hair. I knew this conversation frustrated him. As did the fact that I wouldn’t let him tell anyone, but I couldn’t bring myself to open that door. Not yet. Once I said it out loud—even to Fee—it would be real. There would be no going back.
“I don’t know the answer to that without help. I know what it was like to shift as a kid, but I’m more Werewolf than Hunter. And I’ve been able to shift my whole life. I’ve never heard of someone waiting this long to start the process.”
“Right, I mean how am I able to shift at all? You said the mother’s side was the dominant one, and that’s why you could, and I couldn’t.”
“It was a guess, Tara, I didn’t know for sure.”
“Miles couldn’t shift,” I said, feeling defensive, though I had no idea why. It wasn’t Wes’s fault this was happening.
“Miles couldn’t shift,” he agreed. “The important thing right now isn’t why. It’s how. You need to get a handle on it so you can control when it happens. The best way would be to—”
I held up my hand, silencing him. “Don’t say talk to Fee. I can’t do it. Not yet. They’ve barely accepted what happened to Bailey, and George is the priority now. I’m not opening up that can of worms, not yet.”
“Fine, but sooner or later, you have to tell them.”
“I will. Eventually.”
He sent me a look that said he wasn’t quite buying it, but he let it go. “I’ve been thinking about your shifting tendencies, the times that seem to have triggered it, and the main thing they have in common is a sense of danger.”
“You think it’s more likely to happen if I’m threatened?”
“I’m basing this entirely on my own experience, but yes. As a kid, we’re taught to shift at will. But it takes a while to get that sort of control. A threat always triggered it spontaneously. Still does if I’m not careful.”
“Huh. I thought it was temper.”
“Not necessarily. Although, for some, the two go hand in hand, so it may seem that way.”
“With Steppe, you just seemed so angry … Wait, you feel threatened by him?”
“I feel … a fight is inevitable. And so is my victory, if The Cause is to survive.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
<
br /> “He’s made it clear his mission while in office is to disband us, or at least to reverse CHAS’s decision to formally recognize us as a neutral third party.”
“Why? We’re willing to work with them. And what’s so wrong with wanting to end conflict?”
“Because that end doesn’t involve one side standing over the other’s dead bodies. And because we fill our ranks with Werewolves.”
“So that’s it? It’s that simple? Because The Cause has Werewolves in its group, he hates us all?”
“That’s enough for him. So, yeah, I feel threatened by him. He has power. A lot of it. And I don’t want him to use it to drive us apart.”
I took his hand and squeezed it. “He won’t.”
“That’s why I’m taking this position so seriously. Jack and Fee and Cord and Derek … they mean everything to me. I won’t let anyone take that away from me. This is my family.”
“I get it. That’s how I feel about—”
“George?”
I hesitated, scared he’d read more into it than was there. “Um, yeah.”
“It’s all right. I understand he’s important to you. And for the record, he feels the same for you.”
“How do you know?”
“I might’ve seen something yesterday.”
“You know, it’s really rude to go nosing around in people’s brains like that.”
“I know. Trust me, I’ve got the karma-sized headache to prove it. But in my defense, he was sending out some strong thoughts when I walked in.”
I frowned. “Like what?”
“He cares about you a lot more than I realized. And it’s mostly friendship.”
“Mostly?”
His lips curved. “He’s getting there.”
I sighed. “Mostly” was better than nothing. “In the meantime, he’s getting healthier by the minute. He’s like a ticking time bomb of monster.”
“We’ll—”
“Figure it out,” we said in unison, our words blending into one voice.
He smiled at me, that same smile that always made my stomach flip-flop and land somewhere in my throat. When he bowed his head, I rose on my toes and met him halfway, closing my eyes as our mouths met.
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