Blood Rule (Book 4, Dirty Blood series) (21 page)

I shook my head. “It’s not
working.”

“
Something
will.”

I sighed. “Tell me something you know
for sure.”

“
We’ll get them back,” he
said.

It was a repeat of a promise, but the
more I heard him say it, the more I believed he meant it. “Thank
you.”

“
For what?”

“
For understanding that I
need to. And accepting it. I know you hate the bond.”

“
I don’t hate the bond. I
hate that we don’t get any privacy.”

“
Me too, but they need me.
And I can’t ignore that. And …” I hesitated. Saying it aloud would
confirm the depth of my loss. Not only to myself but to Wes. And it
would mean admitting this bond would never really go away. Not
fully, which meant we might never get that privacy he talked about.
But I couldn’t deny the truth of it and he deserved to
know.

“
And?” he
prompted.

I met his eyes and said the words that
had become as true as breathing. “I think I need them
too.”

In the gray pre-dawn, I lay in bed
next to Wes, unable to sleep. Last night, the rushing of the falls
soothed me to sleep almost before my head hit the pillow. I had a
vague memory of Wes dragging the quilt up and over me, tucking it
under my chin before he collapsed beside me and we were both pulled
under by our exhaustion. But now, a few hours later, I was wide
awake, my thoughts laced with the worst kind of worry:
doubt.

Beside me, Wes shifted and rolled away
from me before settling back into deep sleep. I didn’t want him to
wake up and find me like this. It would only add to his stress and
I hated doing that if I could help it.

I need them too.
He hadn’t said a word after I’d said that. He’d
nodded and kissed me and then switched gears, coaxing me into
helping him straighten all the furniture knocked askew by what we’d
labeled “the quake.” Afterward, I helped him make dinner. By the
time food was finished, George had returned and the subject remain
dropped.

But it was out there now,
standing between us like the conversation we kept not having about
Alex, and I wasn’t sure he knew how deeply I’d meant it. I needed
my pack again. I couldn’t foresee
not
needing them. Ever. What did that
mean for the bond? For Wes and I?

I grew restless. Maybe if I put my
body into motion, my mind would slow down. If not, I could at least
occupy it with something productive.

Quietly, I pulled the covers back and
slipped out of bed. On my way to the door, I stopped and bent over
the bag we’d brought from home. My hands brushed the smooth cover
of Vera’s journal. As I pulled it free, my wrist bumped something
hard and I caught sight of the phone. On impulse, I grabbed it too
before slipping out.

In the hall, I passed three more
closed doors. Across from my room was the bathroom. Before the
stairs, George slept in the bedroom on the left and the girls on
the right. They still hadn’t shifted back so they’d settled on the
rug instead of the queen bed, but at least they were safe. And not
hungry. For now.

I listened intently to both the outer
sounds of the house and my inner connection to be sure George
wasn’t awake. My thoughts were unruly enough without adding his
concern for me. Mainly, I wanted some time to myself. Especially in
my own head. If I could keep my worry to mild stress instead of
full-blown panic, it wouldn’t wake him. Hopefully.

I crept down the stairs, wincing every
time one of the boards creaked underfoot, and into the living room.
I sank onto the couch that lined one wall, giving me a direct view
of the falls. The gray sky painted the water the color of a bruise.
It looked violent, the way the water rushed straight over the edge
of the rocks and crashed below. I watched it for a few minutes,
connected to it somehow, Mother Nature’s mood matching my own. Then
I opened the journal.

On the inside flap was Vera’s name as
I’d read it before. Her handwriting was beautiful and elegant and
careful, like her. I flipped to a random page and began to read. It
was an entry dated from the previous August. A year ago.

I had the vision again. It
is always the same. The girl, the Alpha, leads a pack. They are
different, a new creation. I can see in their eyes they are two
parts where we are one. Gordon Steppe is there. His hate is a red
cloud of destruction. He leads his own yellow-eyed pack. They are
the same as the Alpha girl’s pack but these are enemies. He does
not connect with them like she does. They are very loyal to her.
Their bond is strong. With that, they remain grounded in our world.
She keeps the darkness at bay.

Gordon’s pack is
different. They are uncontrolled. There is darkness in them like
I’ve never seen.

When they meet, there is
much blood. And yellow eyes. And then there is nothing.

I kept my finger on the page and
stared at a spot on the wall, unseeing. Vera had known about the
hybrids. She’d known they would be my pack. And now it was clear
Steppe’s plan had been to use them for himself. All these months
we’d been searching for the rogues and he’d apparently had them all
along. All those wasted trips, searching for something he’d already
found.

But how had he gotten them to listen
to him? They’d been so out of control when I’d seen them before,
when Miles had first created them. They were considered the “failed
attempts.”

And then there is
nothing
.

I remembered Steppe in the clearing,
smiling as he ordered his pack to attack. They barely needed his
permission. They were already so filled with hate and bloodlust,
they probably would’ve attacked whether he’d told them to or not.
And when it was over, my pack was gone, and it was true. There had
been no pack, no bond. Nothing.

Vera’s vision—at least this one—had
come true.

My thoughts were a repeat of that
first moment I’d learned of her ability. The night Wes had admitted
he’d known I was coming before we’d ever met because he’d read it
in Vera’s mind. Disbelief coupled with indisputable proof was a
weird thing. Yes, she’d seen me coming, but how could I lead a
Cause that technically no longer existed? Yes, Wes was by my side,
but how did one lead when all of the followers had been
taken?

Vera’s visions were like
half-truths.

But now, instead of rejecting them, I
was compelled to hear more. Maybe her entries would offer a clue as
to what came next. What else had she envisioned? What else did she
know was coming?

I flipped to the next entry.
September.

Spoke with Alex Channing
today. Declined my offer. Fee says he would be a great addition but
I see he is surrounded by indecision. My visions are cloudy. He
doubts himself too easily. I have seen many versions of Alex. In
some, he will betray us. When I tell Fee this, she is quick to
remind me of the other vision. That he will do as much to save us
as the Alpha. I have not told her that I’ve seen them do it
together. Or that the Alpha has to make her choice before he can
choose a side.

I slammed the book shut, but not
before rechecking the date on the entry. September. She’d written
this in September. Months before I ever met Alex.

The Alpha.

My choice affected Alex’s allegiance?
Did that mean he would choose Gordon Steppe if I didn’t choose him?
I thought of Kane and Vera. The little I knew of their story was
that they’d each chosen a life path that the other couldn’t believe
in enough to follow and so they’d gone their separate ways and
fought for different sides.

Was that what she meant about Alex and
me? I couldn’t lose him, not like Vera lost Kane. He needed to wake
up. To be here, arguing about how things were being done. Believing
in me. Helping us. Alex was on our side, on my side. Even after his
betrayal, I believed that.

I’ll always find
you,
he’d said to me our last night at
Wood Point. And he’d kept his word, despite my being with Wes.
Despite the fact that I hadn’t chosen him. And he always
would.

I told myself all these things to
stamp out the panic. If I gave in, the void would spread and hurt
and George would freak out and come looking.

I rubbed my eyes. They felt gritty and
tired and so far from sleep.

I set the journal aside, unable to
read any more, and picked up the phone. Powering it on was simple
enough and then it was a matter of punching in the right sequence
of numbers—a code, encrypted by Grandma—in order to complete a call
that would be untraceable.

I entered the numbers and waited while
the call connected.

“
Hello?”

My pulse sped a little when I heard
her answer. I wanted there to be good news so badly it made my
breath hitch.

“
Angela,” I said. “It’s
me.”

“
Tara? How are you? Where
are you? Crap, never mind, don’t tell me that. But you’re okay,
right?”

“
I’m fine. Worried about
you. I miss you.”

“
Miss you too. How’s
George? Everyone’s okay, right? Edie was here. She told me what
happened before you left. I’m sorry about your pack.”

I swallowed. “It’s all right.” It
wasn’t all right, but there wasn’t anything Angela could do, so I
said it anyway. “How’s Alex?”

Her pause was enough of an answer.
“The same,” she said finally.

“
Have the doctors told you
anything new?”

“
No. We’re still waiting
for him to wake up.”

“
Thanks for keeping an eye
on him,” I said.

“
I’m happy to do it. He
needs someone looking after him.”

It was a relief to know Angela
understood that. “Have you had any trouble getting in to see
him?”

“
No, but—” She
stopped.

“
But what,
Ang?”

“
That director guy came
by. The one in charge of all the Hunters.”

“
Gordon Steppe? He was
there?” My voice rose. “When?”

“
Yesterday. He said he
came to see Alex but he didn’t ask about his condition or
anything.”

“
What did he
ask?”

“
Mostly about
you.”

“
Me?”

“
He asked if I knew where
you were and whether there were any more hybrids with
you.”

“
What did you tell
him?”

“
The truth. I don’t know
anything.”

I chewed my lip, sinking back against
the cushion again. “How did he take it?”

“
I don’t think he believed
me. He already knew my connection to you.” She paused and then
asked, “Do you think he’d … do anything?”

I debated how honestly to answer her.
In the end, I had to be truthful. If I lied to make her feel better
and something happened… “I’d like to tell you no. That he would
never harm a human since that’s who he’s sworn to protect, but
…”

“
But,” she repeated,
making it sound as if the single word explained it all. In a way,
it did.

“
Yeah. But.”

She sighed. There was silence between
us, broken when Angela finally yawned.

“
I’ll let you get some
sleep,” I said.

Angela chuckled. “I get up before noon
on a regular basis, unlike some people. I’m shocked you’re up this
early.” Her laughter faded quickly. “You are okay, aren’t
you?”

“
I will be,” I promised.
“And be careful. I’ll call you soon.”

I hung up and powered the phone off. I
considered calling my mom to check in, but I knew Grandma would’ve
updated her, and I didn’t have it in me right now. Later. I’d check
in later, when I had it in me to convince one more person that I
was all right, despite how I sounded or looked. Right now, it was
too much of a lie.

The room had lightened since I’d first
sat down. Faint sunlight was working its way over the tops of the
cliffs, casting light lines across the floor and furniture. It made
the room warmer, knowing daylight had come again. In the trees
overhead, birds sang, their whistles sweetly high-pitched and
cheerful. It contrasted starkly with my thoughts.

Everyone was in danger because of me.
Alex, Mom, Grandma, George, my pack—or what was left of them—and
now Angela. I had no way to protect a single one. Not all the way
out here in the middle of the Rockies.

And not with this giant hole in my
heart. Every name I added to that list made the hole grow larger
and sent me closer to an edge—the edge of what, I wasn’t sure.
Sanity? Reason? Or simply my own humanity? The longer I went
without the bond, the more that edge became a chasm of darkness. I
thought of Nick, of how completely the darkness had taken him and
what I’d been forced to do. I didn’t want to be like Nick. I didn’t
want it to control me.

A floorboard creaked. I looked up as
Wes appeared. His hair was disheveled, sticking up in every
direction, including sideways in places. His jawline was shadowed
by a faint line of stubble that made the rest of his face shine in
the slanted sunlight. His eyes were hooded as if he weren’t quite
awake yet, and he rubbed his hand absently over his bare chest as
he walked.