Broken Blood (7 page)

I stared in growing dread at the wolves, at Olivia, the entire scene. “Go ahead,” Gordon said, the picture of calm. Before I could think of anything to say, Astor rounded the table and stuck Olivia in the arm.

She sucked in a breath and her head dropped back to lean against the chair before lolling sideways. Gordon took a tiny step forward, arms crossed, before going still and watching her instead. Chris stared at the woman he’d once called master with a look of horror.

Astor finished the injection and then moved to Chris without bothering to check on his first patient. He didn’t look over before grabbing the next syringe and inserting it into Chris’s waiting vein. Chris flexed his fist, his arms straining against their restraints.

I curled my fingers in and pressed my nails into my palms.

No one spoke while we waited. Even the caged wolves were eerily silent.

Astor withdrew the syringe and tossed it aside before picking up another and going back for round two. First Olivia. Then Chris. By the time he was finished with the second dose, Olivia’s eyes had opened. Her color was already returning and she was breathing deeply, taking turns working the joints at her wrists and ankles in circular stretches.

“How are you feeling?” Gordon asked, taking another step forward. Excitement, not concern, I realized.

“Better,” Olivia said, sitting straighter now. She cracked her knuckles and I didn’t need to be told the bond had worked. At least to some extent. She’d walked in half-dead and already she looked revived.

Across the table, Chris was silent, his face pale. His hands sat limply on the arm rests, no more of the flexing fists he’d made as the blood entered his body. He stared straight ahead with a blank look, his mouth hanging listlessly open, and my stomach dropped. Whatever was happening in his mind wasn’t bringing him to life. He was shutting down. 

Behind him, the two wolves from before whimpered softly and lay down.

“You’re hurting him,” I said, struggling to go to Chris, but the guards had clearly anticipated this. They grabbed and held me before I could take a single step. I fought against them and several howls lit the air. I thought I picked out Rafe among them.

“Quiet!” Gordon’s voice boomed with power—not that of an alpha. More like a tormenter. Most fell silent. A few turned to whines and yelps before they too died off. It was only me. And I was helpless.

Gordon strode over to me, his chest puffed up in assumed victory. “I told you if you didn’t agree to help me, I’d kill them all. One by one. Tell me.” He cocked his head. “Do you feel anything as he slips away? Is there anything left of your connection now?”

My eyes filled with tears, but I refused to answer him. I refused to give him the satisfaction. Gordon’s lips quirked—the ghost of a smile—and he walked away.

Chris sank lower in his chair until he was leaning against it for full support to keep him upright. Olivia pushed to her feet and went to Chris, standing over him with purpose. She took several deep breaths while Gordon hovered nearby, watching, waiting. Chris didn’t make a sound as his lids grew heavy and his head lolled against his chest.

I felt the tears slipping down my cheeks, leaving hot tracks of my own pain and failure as they dripped off my chin. Somewhere along the way I stopped struggling against my guards and went still.

Olivia took a final deep breath and Chris slumped sideways, the only sign of his consciousness the occasional blink of his eyes. She whirled to face Gordon, a smile lighting her pale features. “We did it,” she said.

“Of course we did,” Gordon told her. “But what’s wrong with him?”

Olivia shrugged. “I needed his strength for myself.”

“And what about him?” Gordon chastised. “He was already weak.”

Olivia shrugged again. “You shouldn’t have pushed him so hard to make his choice.” Her lip curled on the last word, as if she found it funny.

Behind them, the caged wolves yelped and scratched. Inside my mind, the memory of the fog was almost a real thing. It coiled and built. It licked up the walls and snaked into the far corners and I wanted so badly to summon that yellow-eyed pack from my dreams to swallow up this entire horrible moment.

“No,” I whispered over and over again. “No.”

Steppe motioned at two of the guards. With little more than a nod, they set their weapons aside and unstrapped Chris, carrying him to a gurney nearby and laying him flat. My guards were either pre-occupied or no longer under orders to contain me. I broke free and rushed to where Chris lay, half-awake and clearly hurting. The bond pulled at me, like a weakened magnet, and I bent toward him. 

“Chris, hang on,” I said, grabbing his hand in both of mine. It was cold and limp, his eyes unfocused even as they found mine. A surge of pain wound from his hand to mine and I welcomed the faint link.

“Tara...” His words were slurred as if he’d been drugged. I glared at Olivia. She was feeding him this. Somehow. And taking his strength. What little he had to offer. I wanted to claw her eyes out.

“Tara,” Chris said again, a whisper so faint I had to bend down to hear the words. “He’s offering a choice but it’s not. It’s a lie. You have to stop him,” Chris said.

“I can’t even free myself,” I whispered back. “How can I stop him?”

“Don’t let him bond with you.” His words ended in a coughing fit. His head came up off the table as he struggled for breath. Gordon said something, and I was shoved backward out of the way by the guards. Astor was nudged into my place and ordered to help. He muttered nonsensical words under his breath while he worked but he did as ordered.

I was shoved too far back to see Chris any longer but I knew it wasn’t good when Olivia’s smile suddenly slipped and she pressed her fingertips to her temples.

“What is it?” Gordon asked.

“My head ... it’s...No,” Olivia yelled and then moaned, her knees buckling. Gordon caught her and dragged her back to an open chair, depositing her in a heap. She grimaced but didn’t try to get up. She bit her lip but cries escaped her throat even through her closed lips.

“What is happening?” Gordon asked again, but Olivia was obviously in too much pain to answer. The guards hovering around Chris shifted to also encompass Olivia and I caught sight of Chris. His eyes were closed, his chest not moving. Astor’s flurry of movement abruptly went still.

“I just lost him,” Astor said matter-of-factly.

Olivia slumped over in her chair, unconscious.

“What the hell is going on?” Steppe roared. “You told me you fixed this!”

The guards scurried to herd me and Astor to the sidelines while working to revive an unresponsive Olivia. Everything in my mind felt stretched. Slow. Too obvious to the point of irritating. I glared at Steppe and roared back, “She’s feeling his death, you idiot. I warned you about this.”

Steppe’s shoulders stiffened. “Take her to her room. Sedate her,” he told the guards, his back to me. The guard still holding his gun tucked his weapon into the waistline of his pants and scooped Olivia into his arms. Her head and arms hung limp as he carried her to the door. Astor moved to follow, but Steppe stopped him. “You stay. I need you here.”

Astor’s eyes widened but he didn’t argue. Apparently satisfied, Steppe rounded on me, eyes blazing. “Your turn,” he said.

“My turn for what?”

“Astor, get the samples.”

“But ... you just saw what happened. The new variation isn’t ready. She’ll get into your thoughts just as easily as you’ll get hers—”

“Dammit. I don’t care about that,” Gordon yelled. “I want it done. We’re running out of time. The public needs to see her as the villain. Forget it. Take fresh samples. Do the exchange now.”

Astor scurried to a cabinet at the back of the room, his slippers sliding over the tile floor.

Steppe nodded to someone behind him and seconds later, hands closed around my arms. I kicked out but the guard was faster. I was herded to the chair Chris had vacated. Beside me, his body lay cold and lifeless on the table. I looked away before I caught sight of his face.

“Get him out of here,” Gordon snapped.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched a guard collect Chris in his arms and carry him out. I couldn’t watch. A sob rose up but I bit down on my cheek to hold it in. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth and a sniffle escaped before I could silence it.

“Don’t cry for him. He made his choice. You’re making yours.”

I whirled and stared across the table at Steppe. “This is not my choice,” I said through clenched teeth.

“You can refuse this anytime. It has to be given freely, remember?”

“Fine. I refuse. Take me back to my room.”

The remaining guards eyed Steppe.

“You heard the girl. Escort her back,” he told them. I pushed to my feet. They moved to approach me and Steppe added, “Just keep in mind what you’re giving up.” He flicked his wrist toward where Astor gathered syringes and cotton swabs at the back of the room. “An uncle who loves you enough to risk his life in order to be the one to treat you. Who would kill, in fact, if it meant saving his niece. A pack, or what’s left of them, of hybrids that will probably end up like your second in command being buried out back. Olivia’s not nearly as good at this as you.”

I lowered myself back to my chair. The guards stepped back again but I ignored them, my confused expression sweeping both Steppe and Astor. “What do you mean ... kill?”

Gordon’s enjoyment sent off warning bells and I stared at him, my breath caught. “Mr. Sandefur had decided to take matters into his own hands,” he said off-handedly, as if I’d asked for the forecast. He stared at his nails as he spoke and anger burned hot and neat in my veins at his cavalier attitude.

“What matters?” I asked.

“Precisely? You. Much has happened while you’ve been hiding inside those four walls of your little room, Miss Godfrey. The world has seen a different side of you and,” he paused to click his tongue, “I’m afraid it doesn’t paint a very nice picture.”

“What are you talking about? How can the world have any picture of me when I’m stuck in here?”

“Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they can’t see you. You’ve been busy. Usurping me at every turn according to the various videos released. I offer everyone here a choice and those who choose wrong.” He gestured to the metal cages. “Let’s just say the public assumption is that you are the reason they never return to their families.”

“But I’ve been in ... I’ve barely left my room. Why would...?” The cameras, I remembered. Alex, even Mr. Lexington had been hyper-aware of them. Choosing their words so carefully. Always only saying what was necessary. Or what Steppe approved of. “The explosion,” I said.

“Yes, destroying an official building is a capital crime,” Gordon said. “I’d say the safest place for you now is by my side. Making me an ally is maybe the only thing left that will save your public image.”

I glared at him, but when I caught sight of Astor, my temper waned. He was shaking, his hands stuffed in his lab coat pockets, the entire jacket shivering in his fear. He’d killed Mr. Sandefur to protect me?

I sighed, terrified I would be unable to return the favor, but finally determined to try. “I’m listening,” I said in a flat voice.

“Smart choice,” Steppe said and I hated the smugness in his words.

“But I don’t understand. What is this choice everyone keeps talking about? Is it blackmail, like with me?” I asked.

“Not at all. Every hybrid I find is given the option to either take the cure and become a Hunter again or have their Hunter side stripped and remain a Werewolf.”

“What’s the catch?”

“The current law states all hybrids shall be taken into custody in order that they may be killed. Once here, I’m allowing them mercy, to first make a choice that might save them.”

I leaned forward in my chair, half a step from overturning the table and attacking him, wolf or not. “But that’s entrapment. You’re letting them choose Werewolf and then executing them. You call it a choice but if they don’t choose Hunter, they’re dead.”

Is that what Rafe had meant when he said he’d made his choice? Is that why I couldn’t find the rest of my pack?

“Don’t be ridiculous. No one is executing anyone.”

I stared back at him. “Bonding then.” It wasn’t a question, but Gordon dipped his chin once in a nod and I finally realized his end game. “You’re using them to experiment on your new bonding technique while the public dubs you a hero for offering to cure the ones that want it. But that’s not possible. There is no cure,” I added.

“You’ve been gone for some time. There are many impossible things happening in our world that would surprise you.” I wasn’t fooled by his casual tone.

“Like what?”

“Hmm, let’s see. Like the fact that your mother has already found a new daughter to replace you.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I? The court papers have already been filed for a proper adoption. Oh, and the fact that your grandmother was voted out of CHAS. It seems your family no longer has a foothold in Hunter affairs.”

I scowled, unwilling to admit his words bothered me.

“Or, my favorite,” he went on. “Your mutt boyfriend being arrested for murder. Of a Hunter girl, as a matter of fact. Capital punishment in both worlds.” He clucked his tongue in mock concern and I went numb.

The fog returned. Licking and poking and filling all the empty space in my mind. Cord’s face with the scars and the blood running in rivulets down her perfect cheeks. Staining her shirt. Her hair. And I was covered in it. Because it was on my hands.

“Fine. I’ll do it,” I said. I could practically feel Gordon’s triumph, but I ignored it, promising myself it was the smartest—if not only—option I had left.

Within seconds, Astor appeared beside me with a needle perched against my skin. His eyes offered their condolences. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“This is the part where I hurt, isn’t it?” I whispered back.

He sighed and pushed the needle point through my skin. “It is. I’m sorry. It is.”

I winced as Gordon’s blood filled my veins.

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B
eing held prisoner in that cell had sucked. Being stuck inside my own mind with a man whose dark thoughts had become so twisted he thought killing innocent people was the highest form of justice—that was so much worse.