Dirty Blood

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Dirty Blood Page 31

by Heather Hildenbrand

I stared at her, more surprised than I should’ve been after what Wes had said, and Leo before him. In a way, I’d seen it coming; I’d just ignored it. I thought of what Wes had said about Vera’s visions. “A Hunter, but unlike any we’d ever seen before …”

  I looked back at my mother just as the tears finally spilled over onto her cheeks. She sniffled once and impatiently brushed them away. “Sorry, I’ve never had to say all this out loud.”

  Despite my anger, I felt a rush of compassion. I was still angry. Definitely still angry, but she’d obviously done what she did to protect me. And she’d sacrificed everything, including her own family to do it. Whether I agreed with her decisions or not, I knew her heart had been in the right place. I tried to see it from her perspective, and realized I couldn’t imagine the kind of pain she’d been in to have to make this kind of decision. She’d lost her husband, her sense of security, and done the only thing she thought she could do to protect the one thing she had left.

  “I get it,” I said finally.

  My mother looked up at me; her red-rimmed eyes were wide with surprise. “You do?”

  “Yeah, I mean, you did what you thought was best. And you kept me safe. So I get it. It doesn’t mean I like it.”

  Her expression turned relieved. “I’ve been worried about how you would feel about me keeping this from you. Then, when Julie was killed ...”

  “You knew it was a Werewolf,” I said. I remembered her telling me to stay inside, how she’d been changing the alarm codes every other day.

  “Yes.” She reached for a tissue out of the box on the end table and dabbed around her eyes. Vera, who’d been silent through the entire exchange, sat still as stone. My fingers played absently with a loose strand in the hem of my skirt. No one said anything. It felt awkward.

  My mother finished pulling herself together and set the tissue on the arm of her chair. She rose and wandered to the open space on the rug, to pace. She was obviously keyed up. It was frustrating that I didn’t even know what to feel right now. I could be angry. That was easy. And I had good reason. She’d kept this from me my entire life. But I also felt bad for her, in a way. Whatever she’d been through had changed her. She was a completely different person than the one my father had known.

  “So, now what?” I asked, breaking the silence.

  She was still pacing, not even looking up as she talked. “Now we figure out what to do. I mean, obviously you have to break ties with The Cause, and then we should move—”

  I cut her off. “Wait, what?”

  She stopped and looked at me. “Tara, The Cause is dangerous. Add to that what Vera told me about Leo ... We can’t stay here.”

  “Yes, we can. Jack has the group watching the house to keep us safe until we can find Leo and deal with him.” I could feel my head spinning a little with anxiety and the speed of her planning.

  She froze in place and narrowed her eyes at me. “Did you just say ‘deal with him’? You can’t deal with him. It’s Leo. He’ll kill everyone you know or have ever said hello to in the hallway at school. Then, and only then, will he come for you. He’s strong and he’s powerful and he’s patient. Not to mention completely crazy. You cannot deal with him. We need to leave.” By the time she was finished, her hands had fallen to her sides and were balled into fists.

  “You sound like you know him.”

  “All too well,” she agreed. She went back to her pacing. I waited for her to say more, but she didn’t.

  I felt angry heat rise on the back of my neck, spreading to my cheeks. She was treating me like I was still the helpless baby she’d run away with, incapable of doing anything to protect myself.

  “Well?” I demanded. “Are you going to tell me how you know him? Or are you just going to keep lying to me?”

  She glanced over at me, and something in my expression made her stop. Her shoulders drooped. “He’s your uncle, Tara. That’s how I know him.” I stared at her, mouth agape. Not the answer I’d been expecting. She went on. “He’s your father’s brother. When I ran away with you, I changed our last names, even got new paperwork. Your grandmother helped with that. Our real last name, your father’s last name, is DeLuca. So, yes, I know Leo. And he apparently knew about you, too. We can’t run, not if he’s already found us.”

  “Okay, so we’re related? I know family can be annoying, but they don’t usually try to outright murder each other.”

  My mother wasn’t amused. “He’s been searching, Tara. Don’t you see that? He’s obviously been looking for us all these years, and now that he’s found us … This is not a joke.”

  “You don’t think I know that? I’ve been the one dealing with it these past few weeks. Not you. So don’t talk to me like I don’t know the stakes, Mother.”

  “That will change. I’m going to deal with it.”

  “Why? Why do you think you can do a better job of dealing with it than I can?”

  “There’s a lot you don’t understand, Tara. And I can’t take the time to explain it all to you right now. There’s too much to do and we don’t have much time. We’re past the point of leaving, I think.” She didn’t even give me a chance to respond. Instead, she turned to Vera. “Make the call. I don’t have time for anything else at the moment.”

  “I’ll call right now,” Vera said, rising from her chair and pulling a tiny phone from her pocket. She strode out into the hall as she held it to her ear.

  “Make what call?” I asked.

  “Jack and Fee. Vera suggested I meet them and let them continue to help protecting the house. With my knowledge this time,” she added.

  “So we’re not leaving?”

  She sighed. “There’s no time. But I will have to call your grandmother and figure out something, long-term. When was the last time you saw Leo?”

  My head spun. My mother was like a windstorm ever changing in its direction. She’d been so set on moving, but now she’d changed her mind. My mother was nothing if not practical. Leaving outweighed the risk of staying.

  Right now, I didn’t care about why. We weren’t leaving, running to some far off city to hide out, with no Cause and no Wes. We would stay, and we would fight. Though I wasn’t sure if the last part fit into my mother’s plan or not.

  “Tara? When was the last time?” she prompted.

  “Monday, on the way home from school, I sort of ran into him.” No need to worry her further with the details, like almost dying from being bitten.

  She nodded, absently, her eyes darting around, not really settling in any one place. “Vera said something about that. Said he told you that you didn’t deserve the power of your blood,” she said.

  “He’s talking about me being a Dirty Blood, isn’t he?”

  Her jaw hardened. “Where did you hear that word?”

  I shrugged. “Some friends told me. They were honest with me about my history,” I said, my voice taking on an edge to match hers. I could afford to be angry again, now that I knew we were staying.

  Her mouth tightened. “Uh-huh, and does this friend have a name? Or something to do with the reason you were out all night?” I opened my mouth to argue, but she put her hand up to stop me. “And don’t say you were with Angela because I know you weren’t. She called right after I found the Draven.”

  “Did you say anything to her?”

  “Of course not.” My mother gave me a scolding look. “Give me some credit, Tara. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than you have.”

  “Right. You’ve been lying to your own daughter. Angela should be a piece of cake,” I muttered.

  I expected a reaction but none came. My mother continued to stand, expressionless, obviously waiting for me to answer the question. I thought about lying, but I knew Vera would rat me out eventually. I could faintly hear her talking from down the hall. She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I sighed. “His name is Wes. He’s part of The Cause.” Then I realized something. “You might have known his parents, actually. They we
re in The Cause, too. Sebastian and Audrey St. John.”

  My mother blanched and seemed to stop breathing. “Wesley St. John? You’ve been seeing him?” She stared at me like she’d never seen me before and then shook her head, hard. “The only other mixed blood on the face of the earth, and you somehow found him. Great.”

  I bit my tongue to keep from muttering some nasty retort about not so much finding him as him saving me, more than once, which is more than I could say for her. I was really trying to hold it together. “I take it you knew them.”

  “Yes. They were killed the same night as your father.”

  I stiffened. “But you said he died in a house fire.”

  “It wasn’t a lie. Entirely. There was a fire the night of the attack. They used flamethrowers to break the windows and draw us outside.”

  “So you lied. Again.” My fingers let go of the loose thread they’d been fidgeting with, and my hands balled into fists. I was losing hold of my temper. She kept dropping bombs, and adding my dad to the list of lies pushed me over the edge. It seemed disrespectful, somehow, to his memory that I’d believed he’d died in a normal—okay, well, normal compared to the truth—house fire. How was I supposed to trust anything she said now?

  “Tara, there’s just a lot that you don’t understand about this. You need to tell me exactly what happened when you saw Leo. Everything he said and did.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, my hands still fisted. “No.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Why should I? You haven’t told me a single bit of truth my entire life until now, and you seem to think you can just sit me down and offer up an excuse or two, and I’ll accept it and forgive you and get on with my day? Well, it’s not going to be that easy.” I stood up and headed for the door.

  “You’re no match for him, Tara,” called my mother. When I didn’t stop, she added, “He’s responsible for the attack that killed your father.”

  That got my attention. I turned to glare at her, too angry to even feel surprised by her last admission. I held her gaze for a long time before saying, “You know, I think I liked it better figuring it out on my own.”

  “You need my help. You’ve never even been trained to fight.”

  “And whose fault is that?” I shot back. I marched down the hall and straight out the front door, slamming it for effect. Admittedly, I was pretty sure I hadn’t slammed a door at my mom since I was eleven, but it seemed like the thing to do right now. I stomped down the stone sidewalk, toward the street, and then stopped short at the sight of Wes coming toward me from the side yard.

  He caught sight of my face and increased his speed. “What’s wrong?”

  “My mother—” I stopped, unsure how to explain, where to begin. I could feel frustrated tears forming at the corners of my eyes and blinked them back.

  “She knew you weren’t at Angela’s?” he asked, trying to figure out the reason for my distress.

  “Yeah, for starters,” I muttered. Behind me, the front door opened. I didn’t turn around.

  “Tara, we need to finish this,” my mother called. She was attempting to hide the anger in her voice, probably hoping to reel me back with kindness. It wasn’t working.

  I turned on my heel and marched back to where she’d stopped on the front step. I didn’t look back to see if Wes was following. “And how would you suggest we do that?” I demanded.

  My mother sighed. “For one thing, you could calm down so we can talk.” Her gaze darted left to right and then back to me. “And it would be best if we did it inside.”

  “You care what the neighbors think? Really? What about what I think? Or doesn’t that matter to you at all?” I said, my voice rising. I knew I was probably making a scene, but I was too angry to care. Every time I looked at her, I felt betrayed.

  My mom seemed to realize there was no hope of calming me down with the current line of conversation, so she switched tactics. “I’m Elizabeth, Tara’s mother. You must be Wesley,” she said, sticking her hand out.

  Wes shook her hand, looking completely confused, but unwilling to ask. “Yes, ma’am. Nice to finally meet you.”

  “Tara tells me you’ve been helping her figure things out. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said quietly.

  “But you won’t have to trouble yourself any longer. I’ll be taking it from here.”

  “What?” I demanded.

  “Tara, The Cause is dangerous, and so is associating with any of its members. I can’t allow it,” my mother said. “It would risk everything we’ve worked for, all these years.”

  “No, it would risk everything you’ve worked for. I had no say in any of it, remember?”

  “Tara, I’m not going to argue with you. This is the way it’s going to be.”

  “But you’re meeting with Jack and Fee. You said you’d let them help.”

  “And I will. But you should keep your distance.”

  “So, I just go back to pretending I’m human?”

  “No, but I’ll educate you myself about what it means to be a Hunter.”

  “Well, I’m not just a Hunter, am I?”

  My mother blinked, momentarily at a loss for words. Beside me, Wes cleared his throat, and I froze. I’d almost forgotten he was standing there and, too late, I realized this was probably not the best way to tell him that his suspicions had been correct. He’d spent his entire life defending his mixed blood, and his own life, because of it. He didn’t see it as a good thing. I wasn’t sure how he would feel knowing I was the same.

  “Tara?” Wes asked quietly.

  I stared down at the ground, some of the anger draining out of me. “My mom has informed me that she’s a Hunter and my dad was a Werewolf.”

  “What?” he asked, though I’m sure he’d heard me.

  “I’m a Dirty Bl—”

  “Don’t say that word,” my mother hissed.

  Wes didn’t say anything and, finally, I made myself look up at him. His expression was unreadable. “This is a good thing,” I whispered to him. “You’re not the only one anymore. We can help each other.” I reached for his hand.

  For a second his expression softened and I thought it was going to be okay. But then, my mother cut in.

  “Tara, I’m not asking anymore. House. Now. Goodbye, Wes.”

  I would’ve argued, but Wes stopped me. “It’s okay. Go. We’ll talk later,” he said quietly. Reluctantly, he let go of my hand.

  Behind me, I could hear my mother tapping her foot against the porch step. “I’ll call you,” I told him. He just nodded.

  When he was gone, I turned back to find my mom still standing on the front steps. She had her arms folded in front of her and was absently rubbing them from the chill. She was watching me with a mixture of relief and determination.

  “I’m sorry,” she began, when I got close.

  “I really don’t want to talk about it,” I said. “Any of it.” I walked past her, into the house, and headed for the stairs. “I’ll be in my room.”

  When I was on the second floor, out of sight, I stopped and leaned back against the wall, listening. I wasn’t sure if my mom was really going to leave me alone up here, and I wanted to call Wes. A second later, I heard the front door click closed and my mother’s footsteps faded down the hall.

  I sank down on my bed and pulled out my phone, excited to see a text message already waiting. I opened it and felt the disappointment wash through me. It was from George, apologizing over and over for what I’d seen between him and Cindy. I let out a frustrated sigh, not bothering to respond. With everything else that had happened in the past few hours, I’d all but forgotten about the scene at the dance. I didn’t have the energy to respond to it.

  I dialed Wes’s number and waited. From below, my mother’s voice trickled up to me. Her tone sounded harsh but it was too muffled for me to make out what she was saying.

  “Hello?”

  “H
ey,” I said. “I’m sorry about that.”

  “What happened exactly?”

  “My mom found the Draven and called Vera. Apparently they go way back. Vera came over and saw my pictures everywhere and confessed everything to my mom. They were waiting for me when I got here.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Everything.” I sighed and lay back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. “The short version? My dad was a Werewolf, they were on the council, they fell in love, and I was conceived.”

  “So you really are …”

  “One of each? Yeah.”

  Silence.

  “Is that okay?”

  “It’s not great. I mean, it puts you in more danger. Not just from Leo, but in general, forever. You’ll always be a target.”

  “I know. She knows Leo.”

  “How?”

  I took a deep breath. “He’s the one responsible for the attack on the council.” When he didn’t respond right away, I pressed on, wanting to get it all out there. “And he’s my uncle. My dad’s brother.” It felt weird to say it out loud.

  A long pause and then, “Do you want me to come over?”

  Footsteps sounded on the stairs. I silently cursed her timing. I really wanted to talk about this, make sure he was okay. His parents were dead because of Leo, just like my father. “Uh, maybe later. Gotta go.” I clicked the phone shut just as my door opened.

  My mother stood there, glaring at me. “Who were you talking to?”

  “Wes.”

  She stepped into the room and held out her hand. “Give me your phone.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I don’t want you talking to him. I thought I made that clear already.”

  “You mentioned it. I don’t agree.”

  “And I’m in charge. Hand it over.”

  I handed her the phone. “It doesn’t matter. Vera’s vision—”

  “Is wrong. Besides, he might think he has feelings for you, but it’s only because Vera claimed he would. Suggestive thinking. And picking up on your feelings for him probably didn’t help, either.”

  “I didn’t tell him about my feelings for him until yesterday,” I argued.

  “You didn’t have to tell him, Tara. He obviously read it in your mind.”

  I opened my mouth and then shut it again. I did remember Wes telling me about that, in his apartment, but discussions of visions and destiny had distracted me from it. “He can only do it during a full moon,” I said, remembering his words.

  “Tara, check the calendar. From what Vera said, you’ve seen a full moon since the two of you met.” She pocketed my phone and walked out.

  I went to my desk, more curious than anything else, and pulled out my day planner. The cycles of the moon were clearly marked and I flipped back to February, searching for the last full moon phase.

  When I found it, I just stared, replaying the day over and over.

 

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