Broken Blood (31 page)

“I tried to tell you,” she added, “but we’ve had a lot going on.”

I remembered our abandoned conversation in my bedroom at Professor Flaherty’s house and couldn’t help but agree with her there.

“Does Grandma have visions?” I asked finally.

“She showed an affinity for wards when she was young, but she was much more interested in combat and weapons training. Her skills are a little rusty.”

In the background, I heard Grandma yell, “I resemble that remark.”

My mom chuckled but I was too preoccupied with this new truth. And the vision itself. Especially this last one.

“I saw Cambria,” I said, careful to keep my voice low. I spotted her near the front, talking to her mother, but I wasn’t taking any chances. “The change wasn’t working. She was dying, Mom.” My voice broke a little and I squeezed my eyes shut, pulling my knees to my chest and curling against the seat.

“I know that scared you. But that’s why I called and why I’m explaining everything. Visions are liquid, Tara. You have to remember that.”

I sniffled. “So, there’s a choice I can make that will keep that from happening?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“What then?” I asked desperately.

“I don’t know,” she said quietly. I huffed and let my feet fall back to the floor. “You will, though,” she added. “I have full confidence in you.”

“Yeah, right,” I muttered.

“It’s true,” she said, her tone firmer than I’d ever heard outside of being in trouble. “I have always believed in you. I know it doesn’t always seem that way, but I do. The visions have kept me from giving you freedom, but it doesn’t make it right.” She took a deep breath, exhaled. “The adults have made a decision. We’re sitting this one out. We’re letting you guys handle it.”

“What?” I pushed to my feet, screeching loud enough that everyone else turned to look. Benny eyed me through the mirror and the bus swerved lightly before he righted it again.

“You’re ready,” my mom said and my knees gave. I sank back down again in shock. “And, more importantly, I’m ready to let you do this. I’m sorry if I held you back. I was just ... Maybe someday you’ll have a daughter of your own and you’ll understand.” This was the last thing I’d expected her to say. Even more unbelievable than visions, she was giving up control? This was not the version of my mother I knew.

“Mom, you’re talking crazy. How are you just sitting out? And Grandma? And Jack and Fee? I don’t believe you.”

“Believe it. We trust you. Now you have to trust yourself.”

“But...”

“Alex is already gathering the inquiry board and bringing them to witness. If you need us, we’ll be close by. But you’re going to lead them. They need you, Tara. It’s time for you to make your choice.”

My heart hammered in my chest. “Mom,” I whispered. A hot tear streaked down my cheek and I sat back down with a heavy thump.

“Take them to the cabin. You know what to do,” she said. “I love you, Tara.”

“I love you too,” I managed and she disconnected.

Wes looked up from where he and Logan were going over the supply list, but I waved him off.

“You going to let us know what just happened or are you going to be one of those ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ type of leaders?” Cord dropped down beside me, her long blonde hair spilling over onto my shoulder. I resisted the urge to pick it up and toss it away. Better to make nice with the girl who was going to save our ass.

“The adults have given us their blessing. They’re going to sit this one out,” I said, staring out the blacked-out window. There was a small chip in the paint and when I looked just right, I could see the lines on the pavement whirring by us as we wound around the back roads Benny was intent on taking.

We still had no destination. “Go west,” Astor had said and no one had argued.

“Did she say why?” Cord asked with a decided lack of surprise coloring her words.

“She said they believe in me. In us.”

“Huh.”

“What?” I demanded.

“I don’t know. I guess I’m coming up empty on what about that scenario could have your panties in a knot.”

I shot a glance up at Cambria. She was still seated up front talking quietly with Benny and her mother. She laughed—it was short and cut off abruptly but it was there. And it made me feel a little better about everything.

Quietly, I told Cord about the visions and everything my mom had said. When I finished, she whistled low.

“Wait, you’re not going to back out, are you?” I asked. “Cord, you already promised—”

“Relax, I keep my word.”

I exhaled and forced myself to stay calm. My eyes sought the crack in the paint and I went back to staring at the yellow lines on the road.

Silence fell and I knew Cord was wrapped up in her own thoughts. I didn’t rush her.

“Steppe was—” she broke off and stared down at her hands.

“Not a good dad,” I said when she didn’t finish. “I figured it out.”

“Well that’s something. I always wondered if his version of events would be different. Less his fault or something.” She leaned forward, her elbows propped on her knees, until her hair created a curtain between us. I looked over, waiting it out this time. Cord was talking. To me. I didn’t want to ruin it.

“You saw it so I might as well tell you,” she said finally. She raised her head slowly and I was stunned to see tears brimming. “He was abusive. God, not that way. He never hit me,” she added quickly. “Abuse comes in so many forms, though. Words and lack of attention can be just as bad.” She shook her head.

“What happened?” I asked even though a huge part of me suddenly didn’t want to hear the story at all. Or watch her have to tell it. Maybe she just needed to say it. Maybe she knew I’d seen it already and that made it easier. Either way, I had to let her talk.

“My mother died when I was young. Three or four. I don’t remember much about her except that her death marked the before and after. Gordon—Dad—changed after she died. Not that he gets to use it as an excuse because obviously he wasn’t a saint beforehand, but after we lost her, he, I don’t know, gave himself permission to be an asshole. He would pick at you. Nag and wiggle his way in with words and insinuations and guilt trips that made you feel like you couldn’t do anything right. He was, essentially, a world leader and I lived in that shadow.

“When I hit middle school, it escalated. He was on me all the time about securing my future by making right choices. Academically, socially.”

She rolled her eyes. “I was destined to take his place but before that, I had to measure up. In sixth grade, the physical combat training started.”

She sat back and leaned her head against the seat; her eyes were on nothing inside this bus. “He never had to hit me. My trainer did it for him. But he never let up on the verbal assault. He would stay just to yell at me while I was getting my ass kicked. ‘You have to be tougher, better, smarter. You’re a girl and girls are weak. I should’ve had a son. You’ll have to work twice as hard to get their respect. To get mine.’ He had an answer for everything and all of it was designed to make me feel less; no matter how much better I was, it was never good enough.”

I tried to picture a Cord who stood by in silence while someone insulted or berated her. It was a difficult picture to put together. If I didn’t still have the brief snatches of memory from Steppe’s mind, I wouldn’t have been able to believe her.

This Cord sitting in front of me now was nothing like that girl.

“So you ran away,” I said softly.

“Eventually. Took me a long time to get there. I was fifteen and my weapons training was in full swing. I was on a camping trip with my trainer. It was summertime, hot as hell, so we went swimming in a creek. I didn’t think anything of it. I’d trained with him since I was ten. He was like an uncle or something. But that night ... while I was in my tent getting changed... he came in. I didn’t see him until it was too late.”

She fell silent, swallowed hard. I stared at her strong jaw, her muscled shoulders. Everywhere but her face. My chest ached for her. My throat burned—but I couldn’t allow myself to cry. That felt wrong somehow when she was sitting here dry-eyed.

“I didn’t see that,” I said finally.

“No, you wouldn’t have. Nothing happened. Well, nothing he had planned, anyway.” Justice and violence clashed in her eyes. “I killed him,” she said simply.

“You did what you had to do,” I said.

“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t lose any sleep over what I did. I knew the alternative and I don’t regret it. Anyway, I got out of there and called my—called Gordon. His response after I told him what happened was that I’d turned an unfortunate situation into a mess. He’d clean it up this once but next time, I should plan to handle it better.”

“Next time?” I repeated.

“I was a decently attractive young woman. Things like this were bound to happen. The sooner I understood that, the better. Those were his words.”

My jaw hung open wider and wider the more she talked. I’d known Steppe was a bad guy, but this? Telling your own daughter to expect rape and accept it?

“I never went home after that,” she said. “I cleaned out the little bit of savings I had, used it to pay some documents hacker to lose my paper trail and change my last name. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

“Cord, I’m so sorry,” I said.

“Don’t. I don’t want your pity. You of all people should get that.”

“I don’t pity you. Not a single bit,” I said honestly. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. If you had to go through that to make you who you are ... It sucks, but I don’t feel sorry for you. I’m proud of you. And I get you. Wow, never thought I’d say that.”

Her lips twitched, and I knew we’d reached a milestone.

“I get why this is so hard for you,” I said. “That part, at least, was something your—Steppe understood too. He knew the pressure he’d put on you and that it would be extremely hard to live underneath that if you took his place.”

“Was he sorry?” she asked, staring down at the calluses on her hands.

“He regretted the conversation that night,” I said, choosing my words carefully, but it didn’t fool Cord.

“But he didn’t disagree with what he’d said. I brought it on myself just having boobs.” She sighed.

I didn’t answer—I didn’t need to. “You can’t measure yourself against his truth,” I said instead.

“Can’t I?” she demanded. “Even if it’s only to make sure I don’t become like him, it’ll always be there. I can’t escape it so I might as well embrace it.”

“I never meant to force you.”

“You didn’t,” she said. “I think I always knew, no matter how far I ran, it’d always come down to this. And, if I’m honest, there’s a part of me that wants it. I want a chance to do some good for the people who deserve it. The ones he stepped on. There’s been so much collateral damage. It’s time to end that.”

“You’re talking about Bailey, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she admitted. “He didn’t have anyone until he found us, The Cause. We need to get that back for everyone still alone out there. And anyone else who has ever been caught in the crossfire of my dad’s prejudice and persecution.”

“You’re going to make a great leader,” I said.

“You think? I mean, you can still have it if you want. I know you’re supposed to make some big choice and all that.”

I smiled. “I just did, Cord. I chose you.”

––––––––

A
stor’s nose twitched and he rubbed his hands together like warming tinder.

“What the heck is he doing?” George whispered—loud enough to earn a glare from behind Astor’s thick goggles.

“I’m
doing
science,” Astor said crisply and turned back to the tree he stood hunched beside. Logan snorted but Astor ignored it.

George’s jaw opened and he shot a scowl at Logan. “Teacher’s pet,” George muttered and earned a dirty look from Logan—and the rest of us.

“Sshh. Let him work,” Cambria hissed.

I rubbed my hands over my arms, the evening air biting its way through my hoodie. October in Virginia and October in Colorado were two completely different things. I looked around for someone to share body heat—an instinct I’d gained from my wolf—but Wes was still back at the bus with Derek, doing his best to hide it underneath a ginormous pile of pine branches and dead leaves.

I shivered and watched as Astor poured a milky liquid into a smaller, already half-full container. His tongue stuck out, caught between his teeth as he concentrated on measuring the chemicals exactly right.

“I’m starving. I hope that cabin has a stocked fridge,” George said.

In unison, half the group turned and said, “Shut up!”

George scowled and Emma huddled closer to him, wrapping her arm tightly around his. I suspected it was more an effort in saving George than borrowing warmth.

My stomach growled too, but I ignored it. It had been a long three days on that bus and everyone was ready to get some separation that included walls and some peace and quiet. After two drugstores, one grocery store, and six fast food stops, we’d made it. Without a single attack or interception from an angry webinar viewer. So far. Now we just needed Astor’s chemical cocktail to get us inside.

Apparently, it wasn’t something you could rush.

Behind me, Benny stepped forward, craning his neck until he invaded my personal space.

“Back up,” I said, grouchy from lack of sleep. I’d napped on and off but mostly, I’d bought bad gas station coffee and played hangman with Cambria. I couldn’t afford any more visions that might make me doubt our plan.

“Sorry, but I don’t see anything,” Benny said. “Do you see anything?” he asked Cambria’s mother. Piper, according to her one brief conversation with me two days ago when she’d introduced herself only to ask me what I wanted from the drive-thru. Other than that, she’d stayed far away from me while somehow managing to stay close to Cambria. And Benny, which was kind of gross.

She’d asked me to call her Piper instead of Ms. Hebert. Normally, manners would’ve made that impossible, but one look at her skinny jeans and heeled boots and it wasn’t hard to tell Ms. Hebert was determined to get younger with every birthday.