Blood Rule (Book 4, Dirty Blood series) (18 page)

I took a deep breath and pushed
unsteadily to my feet.

“
Do you want to shift?”
Wes asked.

I shook my head. “Not yet. It’s easier
this way.”

He didn’t say anything else before
scooping up a she-wolf in his arms and leading us away.

My paws were silent as I followed the
boys out of the woods. The quiet fog that enveloped my mind was an
almost tangible depression. Even when I saw the dilapidated tour
bus parked in the field behind Jack’s house, the numbness didn’t
change. I was empty.

I had no concept of what I was headed
toward, only what I left behind.

The stolen tour bus, courtesy of
Benny, was made-to-order. Someone had removed all but the first six
rows of seats, leaving the rest of the space free for transporting
creatures much more animal than human. Creatures no longer a part
of our group.

I swallowed a whine.

Once on board, I walked directly to
the farthest dark corner and curled into it.

George and Wes boarded slowly, each
carrying a groggy Werewolf. The girls had woken enough that the
bond between us had returned, but they still weren’t very steady on
their feet.

Behind the last row of seats, Wes
stopped and bent forward to lay Janie down, but George shook his
head. “Back here, man,” George said. One by one, they each laid the
girls down beside me. I cuddled up to them and laid my head on my
paws.

I looked up at Wes. In the grainy
darkness filtered by sputtering yellow streetlights, I saw him work
a muscle in his jaw as he stared down at me. Then he crouched
beside me and laid a hand on the top of my head.

“
We’ll get them back,” he
said.

George echoed the sentiment through
the bond.

I didn’t answer. There was nothing to
say to that. I still didn’t understand the desolation. I should’ve
been happy. Getting rid of the bond was what I’d wanted. But not
like this. It was like ripping off a newly formed scab—over and
over.

“
Do you want to talk about
it?” Wes asked. His eyes were glued to mine; I knew he was trying
desperately to read my thoughts—something that only worked for him
on a full moon. Oh. What was today? I peered out the window at the
chunk of moon hanging. It was big but not full.

I sighed. This would’ve been so much
easier if he could pick it out for himself, no talking required.
“It’s … empty,” I said, trying to put the pain into words he would
understand.

He didn’t respond and I
knew what he was thinking.
This is what she
wanted. What we wanted.

I looked away.

After a moment, George clapped a hand
over Wes’s shoulder.

“
Do you want me to drive
first leg?” George asked, shifting the energy between us to
something more normal. Less tense.

“
Sure,” Wes said. “I need
to update Edie.”

He rose and walked to the front of the
bus. George settled himself in the driver’s seat and Wes sat on the
last row, closest to my end. I knew he hated seeing me this way,
but I couldn’t help it. I scooted closer to Emma.

The bus rumbled as it chugged to life
underneath me. The gears creaked, objecting to whatever process
George was putting them through. Then, with a lurch, we rolled
forward. City lights tracked a pattern over the darkened windows
and ceiling as we eased onto the street from the grass lot Benny
had hidden the bus in.

On the main road, I didn’t bother
watching Frederick Falls fade behind us. Knowing we were headed so
far from where I’d last seen—and felt—my pack made my stomach
clench. More than once, a whine built in my throat and I shoved it
back. The pain had faded but the emptiness was an ache that
couldn’t be erased or ignored.

We hit a bump and the bus bounced
heavily. We were picking up speed, merging onto the interstate. Up
ahead, Wes spoke in a low voice into the phone. I could’ve listened
in but I didn’t. If there was anything to know, he’d tell
me.

Beside me, the girls slept. Their
breathing had evened into a steady cadence and their wounds, like
mine, had healed themselves thanks to being in wolf form. I
concentrated on the pattern of their breathing. Inhale. Wait a
beat. Exhale. Wait a beat. Inhale.

The bus’s engine hummed beneath me,
sending vibrations through my belly.

Before long, my eyes drooped. In the
absence of action, my desperation had dulled from acute to
numb.

Somewhere around Richmond, I
slept.

***

I awoke to the bus sputtering so hard
I slid forward several inches before the momentum caught me and I
swayed back. The engine hissed, echoing with the sound even after
George had shut it down.

“
What the hell, man?” Wes
called.

“
Sorry, but we’re running
on fumes. She doesn’t like being thirsty,” George said.

He climbed free of the driver’s seat
and hopped out the door, leaving it open behind him. Wes followed
behind. I could hear him asking where we were. He sounded
sleepy.

I heard a pop somewhere along the left
side as the gas tank came open.

“
Kansas,” George
answered.

That jolted me fully awake. Kansas?
Already?

I rose and stretched, extending my
fingers up to the ceiling and not quite reaching it. Somewhere
around St. Louis, Wes had convinced me to shift back to my human
form. I’d done it partly to see if it improved the void in my mind
and partly to eat. The void had remained but my stomach revolted
against the idea of changing back again. My appetite as a wolf was
considerably different from my appetite as a girl. And raw meat was
scarce on a tour bus.

After stuffing my face with greasy
drive-through fare, I’d felt slightly more myself. Enough that I’d
finally become interested in where everyone else was and how they
were doing. Wes filled me in.

Jack, Fee, and the others had made it
out fine. They were safe inside Lexington Manor with no hiccups or
run-ins with Steppe—or anyone else wishing them harm.

Grandma was furious at Steppe for
misleading her, but she’d stayed. A fact that terrified me. Steppe
had to know she was helping me. And my mother. They’d come to the
house with official paperwork explaining the treaty was over. The
house was searched and torn apart. Dresser drawers emptied, clothes
strewn about. They left without finding anything to use against
her—or apologizing. But my mom was safe. For now.

Then the human police came. They’d
questioned my mother politely over glasses of sweat tea while
leaning against the kitchen’s center island. They’d used hushed
voices and syrupy manners and left with the same thing CHAS had:
nothing.

At least she hadn’t used the
speargun.

Metal scraped as George finished
pumping gas and twisted the cap back into place. He and Wes
boarded. Both seemed relieved when they saw me standing.

“
How are you?” Wes asked,
coming over and pressing a kiss below my ear. I leaned into him and
kissed him back.

“
Better,” I said. And
while it wasn’t a lie, it also wasn’t saying much considering where
I’d started. Wes nodded grimly as if he recognized that.

“
We’re making good time,”
he said.

“
I heard. Kansas.” I tried
making my voice lighter, something to match the conversation, but
it came out strained. Wes fell silent, deep lines appearing across
his forehead as he watched me. I stared back, again trying to
communicate what my words couldn’t express.

“
Let’s keep moving,”
George said, his voice tight.

I knew he’d read plenty through our
connection. I hated having to share this with him. He slid back
into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The bus rumbled to life
and we jolted and bumped our way out of the lot.

From the back of the bus, Janie
stirred. They’d both woken and fallen under again more than once.
None of us could figure out exactly what Steppe had done when he’d
knocked them out. There weren’t any visible wounds. Those had
healed by now. But something was definitely wrong with
them.

“
Tara?” Janie
called.

I went to her and knelt down. Her eyes
were glassy and clouded with an exhaustion that didn’t quit even
after hours and hours of sleep. The thread between us flickered as
she tried to awaken. It still didn’t feel as strong as it had
before the attack, especially when she slept, but even when she
woke it was still strained, almost muted.

“
I’m here,” I said, laying
a hand on her shoulder. “What do you need?”

“
I’m hungry,” she
whined.

I looked behind me. “Wes.”

“
On it,” he said. “Give me
a second.” I waited while he consulted a map he’d spread over the
bare floor behind his seat. “There’s a grocery store two miles from
here,” he said. “George, take the next exit.”

“
Done,” George called from
the driver’s seat.

We’d already merged back onto the
highway but the next exit wasn’t far. Judging from the brightness
in Janie’s eye, that was a good thing. She needed to feed. Soon.
Both of them did.

I stayed crouched beside them both
until Janie slept again. Then I made my way back up front and
dropped into the seat beside Wes. He was still concentrating on the
map.

“
There’s definitely
something wrong with them,” I said. “Janie’s hungry. But it’s not
like normal hunger.”

“
What do you mean?” he
asked without looking up. He traced a line of highway with his
finger. His lips moved silently as he calculated distances to
himself.

“
It’s too dialed down,” I
explained. “Any other time, after not having eaten for this long,
there’s an edge to their hunger. It’s more urgent, unpredictable.
This is so … laid back. And she still hasn’t shifted.”

“
Can she?” he
asked.

“
Normally, yes. But right
now …” I scrunched my brow, concentrating. “I don’t think either
one can.”

Finally, he looked up, giving me his
full attention. “Do you think it’s the bond weakening again?” he
asked.

“
No. I mean, it is weaker,
but it pulls at me when she’s awake. I think it’s her. I think it’s
both of them. Steppe did something, like he made the bond disappear
with the others.”

“
I think you’re right.”
Wes re-folded the map and tucked it away. He smoothed my hair, his
expression softening. “How are you, really?”

I relaxed underneath his touch. “A
mess,” I admitted. “I don’t know why, after wanting so badly to be
rid of it, I’m this devastated at losing them. I should be happy,
but I’m not. It’s like a giant hole and—”

“
What?” he prompted when I
broke off.

Tears filled my eyes. “We abandoned
them,” I whispered.

“
We saved ourselves so
that we can go back for them,” Wes corrected firmly.

I regarded him with watery eyes.
Something about the firmness with which he’d said it bolstered me
and I blinked back my tears.

“
Promise?” I
said.

“
Promise.” He pressed his
lips together, hesitating before adding, “I know you think I’m
happy about you losing the bond, and you’re right, I wanted it
gone. But not like this. Not in a way that causes you pain. I would
do anything to take away what you’re feeling now.”

“
That’s the problem. I’m
not
feeling
anything.”

He picked up my hand and held it to
his chest, over his heart. “Do you feel my heartbeat?”

“
Yes.”

“
It feels enough for both
of us.”

“
Wes … Thank
you.”

“
We’ll get them
back.”

Colorado in August felt like
springtime in Virginia. The air was chilled, but blessedly absent
of humidity. It was less than an hour after sunrise when George
pulled off the paved road onto a dirt path and parked.

“
Are we here?” I asked. It
was hard to make out anything through the darkened windows of the
bus.

“
Supposedly,” George said
with a shrug. “You’ll have to consult the navigator.”

“
According to the map,
yes,” Wes said, peering down at the color-coded paper.

After two days of nothing but driving,
this was a welcome announcement. I jumped up and made my way to the
front. The girls didn’t stir and I let them be. George and Wes
stepped back and let me go first down the stairs and out the
door.

The early morning air had a bite that
snuck underneath my sleeves and into my skin the moment I stepped
off the bus. I thought about shifting but decided against it. The
coolness was refreshing, but so was the warmth of having Wes’s hand
in mine.

I made it all of three steps away from
the bus with Wes beside me and George in tow before the view
overtook me and I stilled.