Broken Blood (11 page)

I bit my lip and forced my own willpower to the surface. My wolf, buried deep, stirred.
I don’t take orders,
I growled.
I give them. I am alpha.

There is no alpha. If you’d let your resistance down, you would see that there is no alpha. No master. Only us, together; one force.

I have no intention of letting down my walls
, I snapped
. Save yourself some time and get out of my head!

Oh, but your mind is such an interesting place.

I tried to ignore what memories of mine he’d already sifted through and searched instead for a worthy comeback. A believable threat that I could actually make good on. A way to defeat him against the invasion I was experiencing. But there was nothing.

Instead, a snapshot of a memory forced itself to the surface. Mr. Lexington standing as a wolf on a lonely desert road. Me in a car with George beside me, fast approaching the wolf blocking our way. George and I barely missing a collision as the wheel jerked sideways. My desire for retribution.

He underestimates you...

Hatred clung to the words, and I realized how badly I want to attack him. Or how badly Steppe wanted me to. I couldn’t quite pinpoint the difference. Anger pulsed through me. I’d already been furious when I got in the car, I realized. And he was using it.

Horror crept in like a silken cloud, misting at the edges of my mind and holding there, a wet curtain of dread. This wasn’t a physical force I could combat. It wasn’t even mind games. It was me against me. Because I really wanted to give in and do what he’d suggested.

I tried to push him out, but I was too long out of practice at shoving away an unwanted lurker. Through the darkness and cruel thoughts, Steppe’s laughter rang in my mind. My muscles tightened and my hands curled into fists. I glared over at him, my skin humming in readiness.

Instead of attacking the target I was being fed, I launched myself at Steppe. He went down underneath my weight with a grunt that escaped mostly through his nose. Victoria yelled something but I didn’t bother listening to the words as I slammed my fist into Steppe’s unguarded gut. He grunted again and curled up on the floor of the van, trying to protect himself without the benefit of arms and hands. The van lurched as Mr. Lexington slammed on the brakes and veered onto the shoulder.

My wolf howled on the inside. On the outside, I heard myself yelling without ever making a conscious decision to produce sound. My fists pummeled—his face, his throat, his ribs. And my jaw ached to elongate into something with canines. I wasn’t a human. I was a wolf trapped in a human’s body.

I was the alpha. Dammit.

I crouched over Steppe full of rage as I thought about how he’d stolen my wolf. I still didn’t know how. And I wanted nothing so much as my beast in this moment. Somewhere in the midst of my yearning, the thirst for his blood on my hands waned. My need for violence was overshadowed by a sudden sense of awareness. And pain.

I felt it inside me as a dull ache that pricked sharp with every draw of breath. I’d hurt him. And I was hurting me.

This isn’t right.

I barely had time to register my own internal voice of conscience before reality crashed in around me. Victoria’s hands grabbed my shoulders and then upper arms as she pulled me off of Steppe. I let her, chest heaving with my efforts, and stumbled backward onto my ass. My shoulders bumped Victoria’s legs and I rested there, catching my breath.

Huddled in the corner, Steppe wheezed through his nose. Blood and snot ran from his nostrils, down the tape covering his mouth. His eyes were wide in surprise and pain. His chest rose as it filled with air and then fell heavily as he sank farther back against the corner and away from me.

“What happened?” Victoria asked.

There was no judgment in her voice and I knew, at least when it came to Steppe, she wouldn’t condemn me for a single punch. I picked myself up and sat on the edge of the bench seat, turning my back on Steppe. I needed distance. But my mind wasn’t something I could run from.

Victoria slid onto the seat, and I felt her eyes running the length of me. I didn’t know what she was looking for, but I wasn’t capable of giving anything of value. Not when I was barely hanging onto myself as it was.

Then just give in and let go. It’ll make you stronger. Clearer. And you need that if you’re going to lead.

The anger was a dull ache now, mixing with my homesickness and my despair. Muddling the fury I felt at Victoria for her forced betrayal. For the disdain I felt for Olivia and Lexington and even Alex. Every negative emotion melded into one and it made me sick. My stomach rolled with nausea. I needed out of this van. I needed Wes.

One thing my most recent failure had taught me was that I needed help and support. Someone on my side. My friends and family. A team. Not the one I was currently stuck with. Two Lexingtons, an enemy, and a mad scientist were not enough support for the mental war I waged. And maybe that team could think thoughts of victory for me since I wasn’t capable. I was lucky just to hold up and not give in against the whispered offerings of sharing world domination. How would I ever defeat an enemy that knew my every thought even as it entered my own mind?

––––––––

T
he phone rang three times before someone picked up. Enough time for me to lose patience and begin pacing. I was more focused on finishing the conversation so I could hang up and dial the next person than to even hear her voice. I was only calling her first because if she ever found out I didn’t, she’d skin my wolf hide.

“Hello?” I heard after what felt like forever.

“Grandma?” I said. The wind seemed to rip the word from my throat as I offered it.

“Tara? Oh my God, Tara, is that you?” Before I could answer, there was muffled movement and then I heard, “Elizabeth, get over here. It’s your daughter.”

My mother’s voice in the background sent waves of relief through me. I hadn’t even realized the stress of worry until it unraveled at hearing them bickering in whispers over who got to hold the phone. Some things never changed.

“Tara?” my mother shrieked.

“It’s me,” I assured them. “I’m okay.”

“Where are you?” Grandma demanded. “We’ve been searching high and low.”

“I’m with Mr. Lexington and Steppe. In a van—”

“Tell us exactly where,” Grandma said. “We’ll be there faster than you can say tough titties.”

“Does he know you’re calling us?” my mother demanded.

“Just stop for a second,” I said and they fell silent. “Yes, he knows I’m calling.” I threw a glance back at the van in the darkened lot behind me where I knew Steppe waited, still tied and gagged. Which was mostly for everyone else’s benefit since I could still hear him loud and clear in my mind. Ragging on me for being “that girl who called her mommy when she got into trouble.” I ignored him and concentrated on filling them in.

“There was an ... incident. Astor helped. It’s kind of a long story. The important thing is that I’m free,” I told them.

“What kind of incident?” my mother asked, worry coating the words until they were barely recognizable out of her mouth.

“I’ll explain when I see you, I promise. I’m with Mr. Lexington. He’s helping me. And I have Victoria and Astor and—”

“Don’t trust Lexington,” Grandma warned.

“He’s working against us,” my mother added.

“Guys!” I let out an exasperated sigh. Two months of captivity, of not speaking to them, of them probably wondering if I was dead, and this was their idea of a reunion. “I can’t stay on the phone long. Mr. Lexington says we have to keep moving. It’s not safe. We’re going to meet up at his house so get in the car and drive. I’ll meet you there as soon as you can make—”

“Lexington Manor?” Grandma snapped. “No. You can’t go there, Tara. He’s right, it’s not safe.”

“Why not?” I shot a look behind me at where Victoria was pacing. She had a phone to her ear as well. Gordon’s actually. I couldn’t make out the words but I knew she’d try Logan first. I hoped she reached him. I hoped he was okay. That they all were—

“Tara, this world is a lot different than you remember,” my mom said gently. “We’ll explain everything when we see you. But don’t go to Lexington Manor.”

“Where can we go?” I asked. “There isn’t anywhere else safe. Mr. Lexington said all of our houses are being watched.”

“They are,” Grandma said. Her tone was grim and I wondered just how far I’d have to go in order to preserve Steppe’s life once the others found us.

“What about...?” my mom asked in a muffled voice. There was rustling on their end of the line while they whispered and probably tried covering the phone. Impatience got the better of me and I paced and huffed.

“I don’t have all night,” I said.

Even as I said it, my eyes scanned the trees for danger. I had no idea exactly who or what we were up against. None of them had been very specific in describing the danger, only to say that it was lurking everywhere. To always be on guard. And Lexington had insisted that we had exactly ten minutes at this rest stop to call everyone we could.

“Go to Flaherty’s,” Grandma said in a voice that brooked no argument.

“
Professor
Flaherty?” I asked. “My teacher from Wood Point?”

“That’s the one. We’ll meet you there,” she said.

“But ... how do you know...? I don’t know where she lives.”

“Astor’s with you, right?” Grandma asked.

“Yes,” I said.

“He can show you the way. We’ll see you there...” She paused, calculating, and then added, “In the morning.”

“Tara, be careful,” my mom said.

“I will. You too,” I said.

“We love you,” they said in unison and I smiled.

“Love you too.”

I’d barely hung up before punching the numbers that dialed my next call. Instead of pacing, I bounced. I didn’t even know if this number still worked. Victoria had said he moved to DC to look for me after the police let him go. Maybe he’d changed numbers.

One ring. Two.

Victoria sniffled and I looked over in time to see a tear escape before she brushed it aside. Our eyes met but there was no time to read what had caused her tears before the voice on the other end of my phone snatched my attention.

“What?”

My knees threatened to buckle. Despite the less-than-warm greeting, the sound of that one word was like honey over warm bread.

“What?” he said again, this time warily. In the background, I heard glasses clinking, voices humming in vague conversation. Country music. But none of it really registered. It was only him. Just there, through the phone, so close.

I licked my lips, my throat suddenly dry. “Wes?” I managed, my voice cracking. I tried again. “It’s me.”

The line went quiet for so long I checked to be sure the call hadn’t dropped.

“Tara,” he said. The sound of my name on his lips was like falling in love all over again.

“It’s me,” I said, warmth rushing up from my toes and flowing out into all the points on my body.

“Holy Christ. Where are you? How are you? Is this real?”

I laughed through tears that were already raining down my cheeks. “It’s real,” I assured him. “I’m somewhere west of the metro area. Near the mountains, I think. I’m free.”

“You’re free,” he repeated and now that the anger was gone, his shock sounded laced with something not quite steady. Something a little slower than usual. “You got away from Steppe?”

“Yes, I...” I trailed off, my thoughts racing full speed ahead as I tried to pick carefully what to share and what to save. His face, God, I wanted to see his face. Did he have day-old stubble? Was he wearing after-shave? Cologne? His leather jacket that smelled like his car and—

“Whoa, slow down,” he said, “Not so fast.”

My thoughts skidded to a halt and my brows drew together. “I didn’t say anything,” I said. There was a too-long pause and then he smacked his lips together on an appreciative exhale. In the background, ice cubed clinked.

“Where are you?” I asked, finally picking up the background noise and piecing it together with his slow reactions.

He sighed. “I’m in a bar.”

“What are you doing in a bar?” I snapped out before I could rein in my temper—or understand it. He was supposed to be looking for me, searching to the ends of the earth. Had he given up that easily and decided to drown himself in a bottle instead?

Something Steppe had said whispered through my mind, about Wes giving up on ever finding me and moving on, and I realized this wasn’t my own anger or suspicion. This was being planted. I exhaled and forced it away; Steppe was not taking this moment from me.

“Turning on the mute button,” he said and then hastily, “But now that I know I need the volume, consider me exiting.”

“Whatever,” I said, brushing it aside before I could dwell long enough for Steppe’s anger to take hold. “I’m with Victoria and Astor. We’re headed to Flaherty’s, my professor from Wood Point. Grandma says we’ll be safe to meet up there. Can you meet us?”

I decided not to mention Steppe. Or Victoria’s dad. Not yet. Better to wait until we were face to face. Wes responded with a growl-wrapped curse and I winced, pulling the phone away from my ear and looking at it in surprise. For the second time, I felt like we were having entirely different conversations.

The wind whipped by in a particularly sharp gust. Goose bumps broke out over my arms and neck, shocking me with the intensity of their discomfort as I shivered. It’d been so long since I’d felt that sort of...

Wes let out a string of fast curses and in the background, glass shattered. Someone yelled something about paying for it. The line was jostled.

“Is everything okay?” I asked.

“No, everything is not— Tara, get out of there.”

Behind me, Victoria’s voice rose in a yell that cut off, and I turned, half-curious as to what was going on between her and Logan. But Victoria wasn’t on the phone. I let out a growl of my own when I saw what had startled her.

In the darkness of the empty lot, orange beams played light and shadow off each other in a slanted graph. At the edges, I caught slippery movement before it slid away. The goose bumps on my arms rose as I spotted the object of her horror.