Blood Bond

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “I saved all your monsters. What else do you want from me?”

  “That has yet to be seen. Either way, it was only the first batch.”

  I stopped walking to look at her. “There’s more?”

  “Keep walking.” She shoved me forward. My feet moved mechanically. Her tone became smug, confident. “I told you, I’m not my son. Nor am I my husband. I do not share their weaknesses. They thought too small. And you. You were a weakness to them, but not to me.”

  “Miles wanted to take over both the Werewolf and Hunter world, but he thought too small?”

  “He thought the only way to do it was with you. That’s where he went wrong.”

  “Because you think you can do it alone?”

  “Actually, I don’t have to do anything at all except stir the pot. You’ll destroy each other in the end with your hatred. When the dust settles, I’ll rebuild.”

  “I didn’t hate Miles,” I began.

  “And yet, he’s dead, so it doesn’t really matter, does it? Shut up and walk.”

  I fell silent and kept pace with Chris. He was faster now. It was a struggle to keep up with him. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stay on my feet. We reached the door and Olivia handed Chris the key for the deadbolt. He twisted it in the lock and pushed it open. It swung inward, and I caught a blur of fur and teeth as it whizzed by on its way into the woods. From the dimness of the hallway a wolf appeared and hurtled toward me. Then another and another. I flattened myself against the building to get clear. Eight wolves darted into the trees, their snarls echoing as they spread out among the trees.

  “Return.” Olivia’s voice rang out above it all. The wolves slinked back into view. Their eyes shone with a fevered yellow. Their jowls hung loose and dripped with saliva. The joints in their legs stuck out starkly against their wiry limbs. “You may hunt but return as soon as you’ve finished. There is work to be done,” she said. They blinked and then sprang way.

  “Looks like you’re the cure, after all,” she said to me before shoving me through the door.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  There were seven dead in the clinic when we returned. I wondered if it was because the injections weren’t completely successful, or if they’d been dead already when I’d injected them. I hadn’t exactly felt for a pulse. Olivia wouldn’t have listened, anyway. The rest were in various stages of waking up or moving around. Their attempts were slow and they looked dazed, like suffering from bad hangovers.

  Olivia ordered me to dump the box of used syringes into the garbage and then motioned for Chris to move me into what looked like a break room. A faded, once-white chipped-plastic table and two chairs were the only furniture in the space. A mini-fridge sat on a warped green countertop, along with a beat-up microwave, which hummed and whined pathetically in its attempt to heat a bowl of chicken soup.

  “Eat,” Chris said, dropping me into one of the chairs and setting the bowl in front of me.

  I started to lift the spoon to my mouth and stopped again when a water bottle appeared.

  I panicked.

  The vision of Mr. Lexington towering over me as I lost consciousness took over. I leapt from my chair and swung at Chris without conscious thought but exhaustion slowed me. He ducked aside and landed a punch in my gut. Not hard, but enough to get my attention and let me know he was feeling better. I slumped back into the chair and grumbled at him as he backed away.

  Grudgingly, I went back to my soup and water. After closer inspection, I realized the seal hadn’t been broken on the bottle. Even so, I sipped slowly, expecting the worst. But it wasn’t poisoned. I remained awake.

  The food cleared my head, which wasn’t entirely a good thing, since I couldn’t seem to shut off the panic and desperation that wormed its way in.

  Muffled sounds drifted in as I finished. My stomach cramped painfully as it accepted the food. I waited for the dizziness to subside, sure it was due to dehydration and hunger, but it remained. The room didn’t spin, exactly, but my vision was fuzzy around the edges. The back of my neck ached.

  “Uh-oh,” I said under my breath.

  Chris looked up, curious, but said nothing. A minute later, Olivia walked in. A half smile twisted her lips. She wiped her hands on a rag. The cloth came away stained red. I couldn’t bring myself to ask why. Cord’s name echoed in my head.

  “They’re up.” She walked up to Chris, scrutinizing him. “How do you feel?”

  “Better, stronger,” he said.

  “Good.” She nodded. Her eyes flickered to me. “Give her a needle and some more vials. I’m going to spend some more quality time with my new friend.”

  “Don’t touch her,” I said, jumping from my chair. I wasn’t sure if it was the food or the unsettled feeling of my skin, but the anger surging through me was sharp and hot. I couldn’t sit quietly any longer. “We had a deal. I give you blood. You leave her alone.”

  Olivia’s head bobbed in an almost imperceptible nod. She stalked toward me, her eyes lit with rage. Chris slid in behind me, grabbing my wrists and twisting my arms painfully behind my back. “You seem to have forgotten who makes the rules,” she said. “I told you I wouldn’t kill her yet.”

  The truth of her intentions hit me hard. I’d hoped—maybe because there wasn’t any other choice—if I went along, did what she asked, she wouldn’t hurt Cord. The look in her eye made it easy to see that had been a lie.

  My body went taut. The pain in my arms intensified but it only fed my anger. “I’m not giving you any more blood,” I said.

  “Then I’ll take it.”

  Chris dragged me toward the door, and I lost it. I kicked out, the first few attempts catching air, but the food energized me and I managed to land a heel in his shin. He grunted and his grip loosened. I wrenched free and tore down the hall. A voice in my mind screamed at me to turn back, that I couldn’t leave Cord alone here if I ever wanted to see her again, but I couldn’t help her by cooperating any longer.

  I made it out the door and to the tree line before I was tackled from behind. Chris’s breath blew across the back of my neck and then my body twisted as he flipped me over and pinned me. I blanched at the sight of his face. It was something not quite Werewolf, not quite human. Fur covered every inch of his skin. His eyes glowed hot and yellow, fully hybrid now. I could see the struggle inside him, could feel him shaking. I wriggled but it was no use; his strength was definitely that of a Were.

  “Get a hold of yourself,” Olivia snapped. I wasn’t sure which one of us she referred to.

  I couldn’t see her over Chris’s head but I could smell her. It smelled like the decay of the bodies earlier, sickly sweet and full of death. I wondered how I’d missed that before. Chris flipped me again and began to bind my wrists. I cried out when he wrenched my arm too hard and pain shot into my shoulder. The sharp throb that remained even after he let go made it clear I’d sprained something. He yanked me up, breathing heavily against my back.

  “Put her in the box. I need your help with the other one. I’m tired of waiting.” Olivia’s footsteps faded and the door to the clinic slammed shut. Chris shoved me toward the trail.

  “Move,” he said. The air around the edges of his body quivered.

  “You can’t turn, can you?” I said.

  “Not yet. It’s coming.” His voice was strained.

  We walked a few steps in silence. I knew this might be my only shot. “My blood saved you.”

  “You want a medal?”

  “You owe me a life.”

  He didn’t answer for a long time. I heard his breathing even out and wondered if he was closer or farther away from his human form—the side of him that allowed compassion, feeling. I searched my thoughts for any sign my blood had connected us in some way, but there was nothing. Only emptiness, like before.

  We reached the clearing where my wooden cell stood. He shoved me toward the ladder.

  “You could save her,” I said.

  “You are not my master.”

&n
bsp; He shoved me through the hole in the roof. I landed on my knee and rolled, trying to absorb the impact. My shoulder twisted at an odd angle from my hands being tied. Pain shot through the arm I was already sure I’d sprained. Black spots danced in front of my eyes. I lay there for a few minutes until the worst of it faded.

  I blinked back tears—partly from the pain in my arm and partly from desperation. How had the situation turned so badly? Wes and the others—where were they? I felt nothing from the bond. What did that mean? Had something happened to George?

  Every second I sat there felt like an eternity. I tried not to imagine what Olivia was doing to Cord, but it was impossible. I didn’t bother trying to hold back the sobs or the tears. They fell against the wood and left watermarks that grew into tiny pools of moisture as more and more fell.

  Something moved between the slats and I sucked in a breath, silencing my cries. I caught a glimpse of an arm as someone walked by.

  “Hello?” I called.

  Then came the sound of feet shuffling, fabric rustling.

  “Hello?” I called again louder this time. “Who’s there?”

  A voice rasped, too low and gravelly for me to hear. Someone coughed. The voice came again. “I’m Curtis. Who are you?”

  “Tara. Tara Godfrey.” I peered through the crack and saw a pair of eyes ringed in yellow staring back at me. They were wide and alert. My chest tightened.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “You were unconscious. I injected you with my blood and it brought you back.”

  The eyes blinked, processing my words. “Thank you.”

  His sincerity gave me hope. I sniffled and blinked away the last of my tears. “Is everyone awake?”

  “Um …” The man turned away to survey the clearing and I caught a glimpse of shaggy brown hair that curled at the back of his neck. I held my breath while I waited for him to answer. “Yes. We’re all awake.” Suddenly, his eyes widened and his features froze in a look of surprise.

  “What is it?” I asked, leaning forward.

  “I can’t stop it …” he began. His mouth continued to move but the sound was cut off. His form blurred and the popping of bones echoed in the quiet.

  Then his body disappeared.

  In its place stood a yellow-eyed wolf.

  Chapter Thirty

  For the first time since my wolf half had woken, I wanted to shift. My skin crawled. My head pounded. My neck and back burned with tingles. Goosebumps slammed into me so hard I convulsed. The clearing was still cluttered with bodies—only they were all Werewolves now. I couldn’t see past the first dozen or so, but judging by my body’s reaction, I knew many more had survived than I’d expected. Maybe all of them.

  I could feel their eyes on me as they paced in front of my cage. A few growled. I could hear a fight breaking out further back. I was glad for the wooden planks that stood between us.

  “That’s her,” one female rasped. “The one we’re supposed to bring to the master.”

  “I can smell her blood,” said another.

  “I’d like to taste her blood.” The malice in that one made me shiver.

  “Remember what the master said. We can’t hurt her.”

  “We can’t kill her. We can taste …”

  Paws landed lightly on the roof. The iron grated and whined. I held my breath and watched the teeth picking at the latch. The Werewolf snorted when it didn’t budge.

  “Change back so you have fingers, you idiot,” the female said.

  A pause and then, “You try to shift back, genius.”

  “I … can’t.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Are we stuck like this? Did the master …?”

  “Sshh! She’s coming. I can feel it.”

  On cue, footsteps sounded. Human steps. The wolves nearest me let out a whimper and retreated. I watched through the planks as Olivia, then Chris, came into the center of the clearing. Chris was human again and carrying a barely conscious Cord in his arms. At Olivia’s direction, he dropped Cord in a heap in the dirt. The wolves growled and pawed at the ground.

  “I see you’re all up and around,” Olivia said. Her voice rang out loudly over the sound of the pack.

  I shrank back against the wall as her voice echoed against the pounding in my head. It was as if her single voice had become a thousand others, all competing for room to be heard. I shut my eyes in a vain attempt to block it out.

  “When can we hunt?” one of the hybrids called.

  “Soon,” Olivia said. “First, bear witness. This is the Hunter who killed my son. She has come to apologize, isn’t that right, Cordelia?”

  Cord said something too low for me to hear. Olivia kicked her and she grunted as the wind left her lungs. I bit my lip against rage and panic. It was easy to see where this was going. Olivia wanted Cord’s death public—and slow. I had to do something. But I couldn’t get past the rushing in my ears, the buzz in my head.

  The door above me creaked open. I had a moment’s panic that the two hybrids who’d wanted me for lunch had found a way inside, but then Chris peered down at me. “Get out,” he said.

  I climbed out at an odd angle, using my head to keep my balance up the steep staircase. Chris waited until I was on the ground and then took my arm and led me forward. I barely felt his hand through the throbbing in my shoulder. Olivia smiled at me, the expression full of malice. “Just in time for the show.”

  *

  Olivia was relentless. Kick after kick landed in Cord’s ribs. I couldn’t watch. I couldn’t look away. When Cord began screaming, the hybrids howled, their high-pitched voices melting into one. The buzzing in my head reached a crescendo, drowning out the sound in my ears. I squeezed my hands into fists behind my back. My nails dug into my palms, but the numbness from the binds made it hard to feel the pressure. The arm I’d twisted burned from shoulder to wrist.

  Beside me, Chris shifted restlessly. “You’re hurting,” he said in a low voice.

  It took me a moment to understand the full implication of his words. I jerked my gaze to his. “How do you know that?”

  “I can …” He pressed his lips together, shot a glance at Olivia. “I just do.”

  He wouldn’t meet my eyes, and for a second, the cacophony in my head calmed. I tried to focus on it, separating individual threads. I strained to make out words, voices. They were there, just out of reach. I held my breath. It was too much to hope for.

  Slowly, I picked out a single feeling. Like an emotion attached to a vivid memory, the feeling had a taste, a certain flavor, and I knew it was the one I needed. The one that just might save us.

  I braced myself for how deeply this would change everything. Then, just like that day at Astor’s, I opened my mind and let go.

  Chris’s eyes widened. He pressed a palm to his forehead. “What’s happening?” he whispered.

  I couldn’t answer him.

  Feelings, emotions, some as strong as a thought, poured into me. The wall came down, the buzzing became a roar. My knees gave out. I hadn’t stayed fully conscious the first time I’d done this. I wasn’t sure how much longer my feet would hold me up with such a crowd inside my head.

  It took only seconds for the rest of them to notice. Their eyes shifted from Olivia to me and back, clearly confused. Some of them blinked and shook their heads, pawing at their ears. Was it this loud for them too?

  Olivia paused and looked around at her audience, finally noticing their break in concentration. “What the hell is wrong with all of you?” she demanded.

  One of them let out a wailing howl. A few others joined it. I welcomed it, since it drowned out the internal noise, but Olivia looked furious. “What are you doing? Silence!” she screamed. A few listened to her, their jaws clamping shut so firmly it looked like Olivia had hit an off switch. The rest continued to wail.

  Something heavy pushed against the feelings inside me. They were fighting it. I didn’t know how to manage all of the different flavors and feelings, much les
s push back. Hunger, rage, desperation, pain, heartache, hatred, loathing. The list went on and on.

  Olivia marched up to one of the wolves and struck it across the nose. “What is the problem?” she demanded.

  It backed up and lowered its head to the ground. “I don’t know,” it said. “I feel …”

  “Feel? You don’t feel. You obey.” Her eyes cut to Cord, then back. Her voice dropped low and she pointed. “Master says feed.”

  The yellow eyes dilated. The wolf looked at Cord. Saliva pooled at its jowls.

  The hunger inside me became overwhelming. Olivia’s eyes gleamed, silently willing the wolf to attack. I swallowed the acrid taste in my throat and concentrated. The wall slid back. The wolf shifted its weight. Our eyes met.

  Do. Not. Harm.

  I felt the command sink into the wolf’s awareness. Its fur stood on end and its form shimmered at the edges. The air crackled with energy. It stared at me.

  Olivia followed the wolf’s gaze and her eyes landed on me. “You.” She covered the distance between us in three strides. Her hands grabbed my face, squeezing and shaking. “What have you done to them?” she demanded.

  “I—” Olivia’s knuckles struck my cheek and my head jerked sideways.

  Something inside the hybrids snapped.

  The wall crumbled. Emotions flooded in—and out. The wolf Olivia struck shot forward. Its teeth sunk into her calf and she screamed.

  “You did this! What did you do?”

  I was too shocked to respond. I hadn’t asked for them to attack her, but now that one had led the way, the others followed suit. They stalked toward her. I could feel their hunger.

  How would I ever manage all of them?

  “Wait,” I called, my voice loud and firm. I had to exert authority from the beginning if I was going to make this work.

  They hesitated.

  “Untie me.” I shoved my wrists at Chris and waited, half expecting him to refuse. His fingers brushed my hands as he untied the knots and let the binding fall. I rubbed my wrists gingerly until they tingled with renewed blood flow.