Dirty Blood

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “So now what?” I asked. We were back in my room, after scarfing the chicken my mother had left in the fridge. Jack had just called back to say the search had been a dead end. There wasn’t even a trail to follow.

  “Now, we keep looking, and you don’t go anywhere alone.” Wes was sitting in his usual spot, in my desk chair, twirling back and forth in half circles with his feet.

  “That doesn’t sound like much of a plan. We have no idea who’s doing this.”

  “We have a few ideas worth exploring.”

  “We?”

  “The group.”

  “And does this group include me? Or do I get left in the dark about everything?”

  Wes stopped spinning and sighed. “It might include you. If you want.”

  “You’re going to let me meet them?” I asked, surprised.

  “I probably shouldn’t,” he admitted, “but Jack asked me to. He’s called a Cause meeting for later, and you’re invited to come.”

  “Do you want me to?” I had to ask, because even though he’d extended the invitation, his tone seemed like he was hoping I’d say no.

  “I don’t know.”

  I let out a frustrated breath. “I still don’t get why you’re here, if you don’t want me to be a part of your world,” I said, putting emphasis on the last two words. Because even though it was obvious that our worlds were connected, it seemed like he was determined to make sure they stayed separate.

  Wes slid out of his chair and came over to sit by me on the bed. He looked into my face with a gaze that seemed to penetrate straight through me, and I found myself holding my breath. “You intrigue me. I’ve never met anyone like you.” He paused, and then added, “It’s probably a bad idea to involve you, but I don’t think I have a choice anymore. And Jack thinks it’s best if you know what’s going on.”

  The way he looked at me suddenly made it very important for me to know his motive for including me. “You’re only inviting me because Jack told you to.”

  His gaze deepened and he leaned closer. “Why do you keep pushing me, Tara?” he asked, quietly. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

  I squared my shoulders and gave him an even look, refusing to be drawn into the spell of his eyes. “Well, you can stop. I just needed time to process everything. But I’m not scared. And Jack’s right. I have a right to know who is threatening me.”

  “I don’t think you’re scared. I think you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. But like I said, I don’t have a choice. If I hadn’t come, Jack would have.”

  Irritation flickered in me. Every word out of Wes’s mouth was like a rejection while the entire time, he looked at me like … well, like he wanted a whole lot more than conversation. Or maybe I was imagining it. The whole thing was becoming beyond frustrating to interpret. “Well, maybe I’d be better off dealing with Jack then. You can save yourself the trouble.” I started to get up, but his hands shot out and grabbed my arms, holding me in place.

  His face was only inches from mine now, and he was staring at me with that same blazing intensity that made me think he was feeling something besides just “protective responsibility.” I stared back stubbornly, trying to remain unaffected. It wasn’t working.

  Slowly, he raised a hand from where it still rested on my arm and traced his fingertips down my cheek and into my hair. My entire body reacted by going pleasantly numb. I inhaled the scent of crisp leather, from where his arm hung in the air by my face, mixed with a dried-leaf and pine smell that could only ever be Wes and made me think of sunshine on bare skin. His fingers moved from my hair back to my face, and that tiny gesture was all it took to awaken that polar pull between us.

  I wasn’t even sure who leaned in first, but by the time our lips met, it was completely mutual. His kiss was soft at first but his touch brought with it a heat that I’d never felt before. It radiated out and spread into the rest of my body, like wildfire. He tasted like apple cider and the woods in summer, and I knew I’d never tasted anything so delicious, nor would I ever again. The kiss only lasted a few seconds, and I tried to hide my disappointment when he pulled away so quickly. He gazed back at me, his lips curved into a small smile.

  “Does this mean you’ve officially chosen a side?” he asked, quietly.

  “Probably,” I mumbled.

  His grin widened. “Are you okay? You look kind of distracted.”

  “I didn’t exactly see that coming,” I admitted.

  “Me neither.”

  “Does this mean you’re okay with me coming today?”

  “Probably.”

  We sat that way for a few minutes, and I waited to see if he’d kiss me again, but he didn’t. He smiled and got up, holding his hand out to me. “Ready?”

  I nodded, still reeling from the kiss and the weight of his eyes, and let him pull me toward the door. “So there’s going to be others at this meeting? Like other Werewolves?”

  “Yes, some.” He raised his eyebrow in a challenge. “I thought you said you weren’t scared.”

  “I’m not. I just—what if some of them aren’t happy with me about Liliana?”

  “Tara, no one’s mad at you. They all understand it wasn’t your fault. You had no choice. Besides, we’re pretty sure Liliana was a double agent.”

  “Like I have any idea what that means,” I mumbled.

  “You don’t have to do this, you know. Get involved, I mean. We’ll still protect you.”

  His tone was gentle and meant to be reassuring but I bristled at what he was suggesting. “So, just stay home and hide out while somebody out there takes a shot at everyone I care about? Let a pack of strangers fight my battles for me?”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I said I wouldn’t freak out again, and I meant it. I’m going to do whatever it takes to find this guy and stop him from hurting people.”

  He nodded, something unreadable in his eyes. “Okay, then.”

  I stopped short, throwing a glance at my closet. “Can I have a minute to change?”

  “I’ll be downstairs.”

  I listened to the sound of his footsteps on the stairs, already feeling bad for snapping at him. I hated my temper, and I hated when it got the better of me even more. But he’d started it, with suggesting I stick my head in the sand. That just wasn’t me.

  When I was sure he wasn’t going to pop his head back in, I took the plunger pieces out of my backpack and stuffed them into my back jeans pockets. Like before, I pulled my shirt down to hide them. Then I pulled on my boots, grabbed my sweatshirt, and headed downstairs. Wes was waiting for me at the door.

  “I’m going to pull the car around. Wait here,” he said.

  I nodded, and he slipped around the side of the house. I turned the key in the lock on the front door and then dropped my keys into my bag. As I did, a familiar tingly feeling hit me, and crawled along my skin, underneath my jacket. My head came up, and I scanned my yard, looking for the source.

  Just like earlier, I saw no one, but I wasn’t going to let it go so easily this time. I flattened myself against the house and crept to the corner, but when I peeked around, it was empty. The quiet purr of an engine broke the silence, and I saw the Aston Martin coming down the street, sleek and silver. The tingly feeling abruptly disappeared. I hurried down to the curb.

  Wes pulled to a stop, and I climbed in, grateful that he’d already been blasting the heat. I held my hands up to the vents as he pulled away.

  “When you picked me up just now, did you feel anything?” I asked, as we curved through the neighborhood.

  He glanced over, sharply. “No—did you?”

  “I don’t know. I think so …”

  Wes slammed his foot on the brake, and the car jerked to a stop. I felt myself slam forward, and then the seat belt caught and held me in place. Wes swerved the car onto the shoulder, and a spray of gravel flew up behind us as we came to a halt. “What did you feel?”

  “The same feeling I got at
the pool hall. A Werewolf.”

  Wes responded by flooring the gas and jerking the wheel hard to the left. We spun around in a U-turn and sped back through my neighborhood. A second later the car lurched to another stop. Wes threw his door open and then he was out of the car, striding quickly across my front lawn, scanning the yard as he went.

  I reluctantly followed, carefully aware of my body’s nerve endings but there was no trace of tingles this time. I waited on the lawn while Wes did a circle of the house. When he walked back over to me, the disapproval was plain on his face.

  “You should have told me right away,” he said.

  “It was already gone by the time you pulled up,” I said defensively. “Besides, I figured I was just being paranoid, like the other day.”

  His eyes immediately narrowed, making me regret the admission.

  “What do you mean ‘like the other day’?”

  “I got the same feeling in the mall parking lot on Friday night.” I shrugged like it was no big deal. “It went away, though, and I didn’t see anything suspicious so I figured it was nothing, maybe an aftershock of my encounter with Liliana or something.”

  A muscle in his jaw flexed. “Hunters don’t have aftershocks.”

  “Oh.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand over his face. “Next time, tell me immediately, okay?”

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  “You do realize that someone is possibly trying to kill you, right?”

  “Yes,” I said, my voice icy. I crossed my arms in front of me.

  “You’re impossible,” he said, throwing his arms up.

  “And you’re overprotective.”

  Wes looked down at me like he was about to launch into another lecture. Instead, he shook his head and got back in the car. And just like that, the feeling of connection that had lingered since our kiss evaporated.