The back bumper of the Camaro hit the iron gates with the right amount of force and it broke open. Metal scraped loudly against metal as the car rocked violently through the gate. Jason didn't want to know what the back of the car looked like, but he knew it was ruined.
Once out on the street, he pulled the car into drive and floored it. Pretty soon, the horrible excuse for a lab was a dot on the horizon. Toby sat beside him, sticky with blood, staring over his shoulder to see if they were being followed. Jason could see the were through the rearview mirror. Amelia leaned against her shoulder, her face white against her vibrant red hair. She had passed out.
"What do we do now?” Toby looked to Jason, but Jason had no answer.
"I don't know,” he finally said.
Amelia was the woman he had dreamed of nights before. She was the woman who had spoken in his head. She was the one he had seen in the window. He had never seen her before, but he knew her. It was her name—her name and his intuition—that opened his eyes. He knew who she was, knew how she was able to contact him.
Amelia was his mother.
But Jason didn't know why she had chosen now, of all times, after all these years, to finally do so. The circumstances were bad and it was not how he had pictured he would meet her. Hell, he had never pictured meeting her at all. He had thought she was dead.
Jason turned his eyes to the front of the car, focusing on the road. He needed to come up with a plan and fast. There was more at stake now. There were more lives he had to protect, more inner demons to fight. There was Quenten, who needed his horrible experiments stopped, and there was Amelia, his mother.
Jason gunned the engine and put the Camaro at top speed. He wasn't about to let this end before he found out the truth about her and about himself.
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Chapter Fourteen
The cab of Cheyenne's Dodge Ram was big and roomy and Rose liked it. She could sit comfortably with her legs outstretched. She didn't have to endure the discomfort of her legs and knees pressing against her pregnant belly like she did when riding in the PRDI car.
But the PRDI car was gone, blown up. Rose could still imagine she felt the heat blast on her face and arms. She could still feel the burn of it, though it had happened hours ago and she was miles away. No one had expected it to happen; hell, who would? It left them all with very little doubt anymore and made the staircase accident look like child's play.
Someone was trying to kill her.
Rose felt her stomach lurch suddenly and she wrapped her arms around herself. She gulped down a few breaths, but it did little to stop the nausea. Since the explosion, her nausea had gotten stronger. The baby moved more frequently, too, kicking against Rose's stomach and making her feel worse.
She knew from Dr. Nesbitt that babies in the womb could be affected by the mother's adrenaline. She believed it, but she wondered if the opposite were true. Could babies create their own adrenaline and pass it on to their mothers? Rose was sure she had felt something from the baby before the car exploded, a split second after she doubled over, too sick to stand. And what she had seen, before the car blew...
It didn't make a lot of sense.
Rose let out a breath and tried not to think about people trying to kill her. If Davis, Glen, Cheyenne and the others were right about their suspicions—and she was afraid they were—she would be safe and sound very far away from the PRDI.
And Nola.
Determined not to let her mind start with that horrible woman, she reached forward and switched Cheyenne's radio from country, to something a little faster. Soon, the electronic pulse of 1980's rock filled the cab.
Cheyenne chuckled and glanced over at Rose. “If you didn't like the music, you could've just asked. I would've popped in a CD or something."
They had been driving for about an hour now. They would reach Cheyenne's ranch house before dawn. Leaving in the middle of the night had been a unanimous decision among the pack. They wanted Rose to leave under the cover of darkness, when the rest of the place was asleep. It had to be kept secret, her leaving. They didn't want to risk Nola—or whoever it was—finding out and following.
Again, Rose tried to push the thoughts away, but found that thoughts of Nola were like a cancer. They keep eating away at her, and wouldn't go away. Rose turned her attention to the window.
"It's not that. The music's fine.” She trailed off, allowing her gaze to follow the path of trees along the narrow country road. The moon was out, but it was just a tiny sliver. ‘God's Thumbnail’ Rose remembered her mother calling it that, when the moon was at a crescent. It didn't offer much light whenever it peeked through the trees, and it would be gone in a few nights, when the dark moon came.
Rose didn't want to think of the dark moon. She didn't want to think about anything with darkness. There was enough of that as it was with the worry that Nola would somehow follow them and find her.
She never felt as scared for her child as she did now. She didn't want to run or hide, she was through with that life. All she wanted was to settle down with her husband, have this child and raise it in a normal life.
But normal was not meant for her or her kind. There was nothing normal about her situation. Her husband had run off and she was pregnant with what could be their worst enemy's child. On top of that, she was a werewolf—definitely not normal by most standards—and someone was trying to kill her, again.
This time, it was different. This time, there was a child involved. Rose wasn't about to let anything happen to her or her unborn baby.
"It's not the music,” she said again, returning her attention to Cheyenne.
The changed-blood glanced over at her briefly, but for the most part kept her eyes on the road ahead. Her long blonde hair was tied back into her usual ponytail, falling over her shoulder as she moved her arm to take a quick turn.
"Then what is it?” Cheyenne was always one to cut to the heart of the problem and Rose knew she would before the night was over. She had a way of making you want to talk to her. It was annoying when some people did it, but it was a good quality with Cheyenne.
"Guess I really don't need to ask,” she said when Rose didn't answer right away.
"Yeah.” Rose brushed a strand of her hair away from her face and looked away. The road was gravel-lined and winding, twisting and turning every which way. Each curve was another new lurch to her stomach. She was going to be sick soon if she kept staring at the road and its twists. She closed her eyes.
"Don't worry about it, hon,” Cheyenne said. “I've been watching the road and no one's following us."
"That's good."
"We'll be home soon,” Cheyenne said. “Then you can lie down, get some rest. I know you must be tired."
"Yeah,” Rose agreed. She was very tired. She hadn't slept in a while and the day's events were taking its toll on her. She wouldn't say no to a warm, soft bed. She opened her eyes, staring out at the illuminated roadway. The territory was unfamiliar. Cheyenne liked to take the back roads whenever she could and Rose wasn't sure exactly where they were now.
"How much longer until we get there?"
Cheyenne looked at the clock on the radio then back to the road. “We still have a ways to go. About an hour and a half. I could make it an hour if I drove a little faster."
Rose shook her head emphatically. Cheyenne was taking the turns fast enough. Any faster, and Rose was going to puke. She might puke anyway.
"All right,” Cheyenne answered with a single nod. She shifted her gaze to the rearview mirror. While Cheyenne seemed calm and cool, Rose knew by that simple glance Cheyenne was just as uneasy about the whole situation as she was.
"On second thought, speed it up. I just want to get as far away from the PRDI as I can."
"That's what I wanted to hear.” Cheyenne put her foot down on the pedal and the truck accelerated, taking the curves much faster than before. Rose dug her fingernails into the seat and braced herself. She was hit with a strong wave of nausea a
s Cheyenne took a particularly sharp turn, easing off the brake.
"It's been a hell of a day,” Cheyenne said and Rose forced herself to ignore the sickness and listen. “I just want to get home, have a nice, hot bath and sleep. I don't think I've closed my eyes for more than two minutes this entire weekend.” She glanced over briefly at Rose. “I figure it's the same for you."
"Definitely,” Rose answered in a strained voice.
"Are you okay?” Cheyenne furrowed her brow together as she watched the road and Rose in equal turns. “You're not looking so well."
"It's the nausea. It's come back. I was feeling great this morning, but then...” She stopped and took a deep breath. Her stomach lurched again and she waited until the nausea passed. “I felt something, right before the explosion. I felt sick all of a sudden and there was this pain."
Cheyenne nodded, focusing her eyes on the road. “I know it was something. I saw you double over and I was just about to grab hold of you when everything went to hell.” She paused for a moment. “You know, it was strange to see you healed earlier yesterday. I mean, you've looked like shit the past couple of months—no offense—"
"None taken."
"But then, all of a sudden you were fine. You looked healthy. It was some heavy duty magick."
"Dr. Nesbitt has her ways,” Rose said. There was a tone in Cheyenne's voice that made her a little more uneasy. There was something she was trying to say and for the first time since Rose had known her, she was skirting around it.
"That she does,” Cheyenne agreed. “But I was talking with her a little while after everyone started to leave and you went back to your room. She told me while her powers and abilities are strong, she had never seen results like that."
"What do you mean?"
Cheyenne sighed. “Dr. Nesbitt doesn't think she was the one who did all the healing. She thinks there was something else—or someone else."
Coldness spread through Rose's body suddenly and it caused a chill to run up her spine. “What?"
"I don't know just what she was talking about, really, but she said something about her powers being limited and that there had to be something else contributing. She mentioned Aurora and something about power."
"Aurora and power?” Rose rubbed the hair back down on her arms. She remembered finding Aurora in the library with spell books, researching the strange dreams she had been having. She had talked about a woman in her dreams, a woman who had red hair and smelled of lavender. Rose had smelled lavender earlier that day. Was there a connection between that and her sudden healing?
"No,” Rose answered her own question aloud and shook her head. “Aurora doesn't have power like that. No one I know does, except Deborah."
"I know,” Cheyenne said, “but it just seems so weird. If there is someone out there with heavy mojo, why are they helping you? I don't mean to sound ungrateful for it; I was glad to see you better. I just want to know who and why."
Rose's thought suddenly flashed to Nola and she shook her head again. “I don't know, Chey."
"Well, I'm pretty sure it's not Nola,” Cheyenne scoffed. It was almost as if she had read her thoughts. “She seems to be bent on hurting you, not healing you."
"Yeah, I just hope she doesn't try to do anymore of it."
"Like I said before, no worries. We're miles from the PRDI and no one knows where you've gone and I'm pretty damned sure no one's going to tell either. You'll be safe."
Even as Cheyenne tried to reassure her, there was a hint of doubt in her voice. It confirmed what Rose had suspected all along. They were both scared and worried as hell and that didn't leave much hope for either of them.
* * * *
* * * *
He drove in silence for a long while. There was nothing he had to say to any of them, at least not yet. He was still trying to sort out his thoughts.
The woman with red curly hair in the back was his mother. All his life he had thought her dead. She was most assuredly alive, finally waking from her unconsciousness. She sat up on her own, without the help of the female were, and leaned back against the cramped Camaro's backseat.
Jason watched her through the rearview mirror a few times, but she never looked at him.
His mother, alive.
Some of his questions were answered as soon as he had realized that. He knew now why he had these visions, taunting psychic impulses, and sudden bouts of empathy. It was from his mother. She was psychic. He even suspected why he had come to this place and why she had come to him. They shared a psychic bond and one of them had reached out, touched the other with tendrils of power.
He knew these answers were true, but he had even more questions now. He thought about them as he drove, keeping his eyes focused on the road ahead.
The shotgun wound in Toby's arm had finally stopped bleeding. The wound was wrapped in torn strips from a t-shirt Toby had found on the floorboard. It was ratty and old and he had ripped it before Jason was able to protest. It had been a gift from Rose when they were first dating.
Jason sucked it up and kept driving. Getting back to Rose was the least of his worries now. He had to take it one thing at a time. The first thing he had to do was find out was where they were going from here.
Behind Toby, the female were shifted her weight and pressed her knees against his seat.
"Move your seat up. I'm getting crushed back here."
"Sorry, Lex, but it's a little cramped up here too."
"If you didn't have such long legs—"
"If you didn't have such a big mouth—"
"Quiet,” Amelia interrupted in a calm, tired voice. That was all it took for Toby and Lex to quiet down. Lex pressed against Toby's seat once more and he pulled it up an inch to oblige.
"Camaro's weren't really made for comfort,” Jason answered. It was as close to an apology as he was willing to give.
"Tell me about it.” Jason glanced over at Toby. The young man fiddled with the torn strips of cloth around his arm. He untied it, dropping the bloody cloth in his lap. Jason caught a glimpse of white flesh, whole and healed.
"What are you?” Jason blurted out. Toby's scent had been the only one he couldn't identify. It wasn't as strong as the were-scent, but it was something.
Toby laughed as he ran his fingers over the dried blood around where the wound had been. “You mean you don't know?"
"No, I don't,” Jason said through clenched teeth.
"Toby, don't tease him,” Lex chided. Jason caught her stare in the mirror. “Toby's a vampire."
"Vampire, huh?” Jason looked over at Toby with a little more interest this time. Though he had been a visitor to the PRDI, he had never encountered a vampire before. Now that he thought of it, the young man did almost fit the classic profile.
Toby was pale and gaunt. His jet black hair fell just above his ears and framed his face in curling tendrils. His eyes were dark, almost black. He had a look to him that young people these days called “Goth".
"Yeah, I'm a vampire and before you ask, no I don't burst into flame when I stand in the sunlight and I don't sleep in a coffin. I get a little extra crispy maybe, but nothing some SPF-80 sunscreen can't take care of. I'm not immortal, so if you think I'm anything like ‘Dracula', you're wrong. Drinking blood, though—"
"I don't want to know,” Jason said, returning his attention to the road. “This isn't some ‘interview with the vampire’ thing. I don't care."
"That was a good book,” Toby said.
"Never read it. Movie was all right."
"Both were good,” Lex interrupted. “Where are we going?"
"That's a good question,” Toby agreed. “Where are we going?"
"I was just wondering that myself,” Jason muttered. They were in the middle of the country, somewhere Jason wasn't familiar with. The road seemed endless. Far head, blinking lights indicated there was a stop up ahead.
"We need to lose the car,” Amelia finally spoke up after being silent for a while. Her voice was soft, but stern.
"She's right,” Jason said. “It was too easy. The car was just sitting there, with the keys in it. We're being tracked."
"Damn."
"There is a bus station up ahead,” Amelia answered. Jason felt her knees press into the back of his seat.
"How do you know this?” Toby asked. “I know you're psychic, but how do you know this stuff? How did you know how to get out of that place?"
"I looked into the minds of the guards. I followed the path through their thoughts until I had it memorized. Then, I just knew."
Toby shook his head in disbelief. Jason watched Amelia through the rearview mirror. Her eyes met his and Jason felt a shiver run through him. He broke the stare and looked back at the road.
You know who I am. It wasn't a question.
Jason took a deep breath. Lex had begun to argue with Toby again but Jason ignored them.
You're my mother.
Yes.
Silence. Once more he glanced into the mirror but Amelia was looking out the window, a frown pulling at the corners of her mouth.
His unwanted empathy reached out, touching her. He could feel her sadness and pain. Quickly, he locked the emotions away and tightened his hands on the steering wheel. He didn't need this.
After all these years, she was right here. She had suddenly crashed into his life and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. All his life he had wanted to meet his parents. He had met his father, briefly when he was a teenager, but he never saw him again. Up until several months ago, he had thought his father had abandoned him again, left him to suffer life on his own.
But Jason found out the truth. He found out Simon was his half-brother and that he was responsible for his father's death. It was a harsh bit of reality and it drove Jason over the edge. Now, his mother, whom he thought had been dead all these years, was alive.
It was all too much to deal with.
I didn't know if you would come. I'm glad you did.
Dark Moon Magick [The Moon Series: Book 4] Page 18