Broken Blood (20 page)

Desperation.

Steppe named it at the same moment I did. And just as quickly as her vulnerability faded, Steppe’s thoughts rose to the surface, confirming what I already suspected.

“This is why you challenged me inside,” I said, realization finally dawning. “You knew I would say something. That I would ask you this.”

“The moment I heard about the bond, I knew you’d figure it out,” she said, her voice ragged. “I don’t ... I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” she said, her voice breaking into a whisper before she cut off and pressed her lips together in a tight line.

This time, when Cord moved around me, I let her go. I watched her, feeling Steppe’s own retreat into the recesses, and thinking about what he’d felt when she’d denied him just now.

Disappointment.

Some small part of him had wanted her to claim him. Some small part had wanted to claim her back.

But if Cord was anything like her dad—and unfortunately, when it came to stubbornness, she clearly was—there was no changing her mind.  Without his daughter’s public acceptance of her rightful place as leader of CHAS, Gordon Steppe might never be removed.

T
wo things bothered me about being woken by a ringing phone. First, I didn’t have a phone, not since Steppe had confiscated mine back in DC. And second, Wes took one look at the screen and answered in a slick voice that sounded like death-by-civility. “Hello?”

The second I heard the caller’s voice drift through the speaker, I shot up.

“Hang on, she’s right here. In bed. Next to me,” Wes said in a smug voice. “It’s Alex, for you,” he added, handing me the phone almost lazily.

The moment I took it, he sank back to the pillows and rolled over. I was way too tired to decipher whether he was mad at being woken or satisfied Alex knew we’d been in bed together. I decided to save that puzzle for later.

“Alex?” I said. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. We’re fine,” he said and the emphasis he put on “we’re” made my pulse jump.

“What happened?” I asked, sitting up straighter.

Wes rolled back over and eyed me.

“My guess is some sort of ambush,” Alex said. In the background, something crashed and shattered. “It must’ve happened shortly before we arrived because Victoria’s tracking still put Olivia here but...”

I gripped the phone tighter. “But what?” I prompted.

“Olivia’s gone,” he said finally. Another crash followed by muted voices.

“Gone where? What is that noise?” I asked.

“Sorry, the place is pretty trashed. We’re trying to be careful but most of the medical supplies are shot,” he said. “I don’t know where she went, but Victoria’s working on it. We found some discarded clothing Olivia wore so she’ll use that to try and get a new reading.”

My eyes slid to Wes. Judging by his strained expression, he could hear every word. Just in case, I put it on speaker and held it out between us. “Do you think it was one of the angry packs?” I asked.

“Most likely. There are several dead hybrids. Looks like the only one they took alive was Olivia herself. And there are scratch marks along the walls and doors. They didn’t come in with opposable thumbs.”

Wes rolled his eyes.

“I’m going to check in with V and see what she finds out but I wanted you to know,” Alex said.

“Okay, fine, yeah,” I said, distracted by the eavesdropping and interjections going on in my head.

“Everything okay there?” Alex asked, a heavy note of concern in his voice.

I stared straight ahead without really seeing anything inside the room. I was too busy manhandling Steppe in my thoughts. “We’re fine,” I said.

“Good. I’ll call you back when I know more,” Alex said.

I almost told him to call another number, but that would mean explaining why. I looked over at Wes. “Sounds good,” I said instead and disconnected.

I handed Wes the phone and we lay together side by side in the dark room, staring up at the ceiling, each quiet in our thoughts.

“You awake?” he asked a moment later.

“Yes. You?”

He sighed and instead of answering, he said, “Without Olivia, we can’t undo Steppe’s new laws.”

I let that settle around us, chewing my lip.

“There is another option,” I said finally.

But Wes went on, either ignoring or misunderstanding my words. “Forming a new board would take months and months. I don’t think any of us has that long before these angry pack leaders find out where we are.” Wes snorted. “Figures their first real act of cooperation would be to kill us—the ones who tried bringing them all together in the first place.”

“They’re not going to kill us,” I said. “And I didn’t mean forming a new board. At least, not that way.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, propping himself on his elbow and looking down at me. Distracted, I reached up and smoothed away the hair that fell over his brows.

“You let it grow out,” I said softly.

“You said you liked it longer.”

Heavy silence settled, charging the air. It had been a long time since the pull between us had allowed for a moment like this. If eyes could dance, we were doing the tango. By the time he gave in and brought his mouth down over mine, my lips were aching for it. My hands slid over his back, up his broad shoulders, and locked around his neck. His hands roamed my body from hips to shoulders and back down over my chest. It was a frenzy of mouths and tangled legs and pressed parts—and still, I ached for more.

“Wes,” I said, breathless.

He tugged at the hem of my shirt at the same time my fingers fumbled with the buttons on his jeans. I felt the button slide free and managed to yank the zipper down as Wes went still above me.

“What is it?” I asked as he drew back. His brows were wrinkled, but whatever question rested behind his hooded lids, I didn’t recognize it.

“You don’t ... I mean, do you remember us ... Never mind,” he said. But instead of resuming, he sat up and ran a hand through his hair.

“Do I remember us what?” I asked, propping myself up beside him with my elbows and straightening my shirt. I felt silly or rejected or ... I wasn’t sure what.

“Nothing, it’s nothing,” he said.

I sat up straight. “Wes, tell me.”

He opened his mouth as if to respond and then quickly shut it again. He blew out a heavy breath and then asked, “Can Steppe hear what I’m saying right now?”

“I don’t know, sort of. It’s more a feeling or impression of my thoughts as I respond to what you’re saying than—”

“Forget it,” he said quickly.

Alarm ran through me. “You’re acting weird. Just tell me what’ going on.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“You made me promise not to tell. Not if meant Steppe finding out.”

“When the heck did I promise that?” I demanded.

“Right before you made me remove the memory of the conversation,” he said.

I started to argue, to spew out a string of demands in response to the hot irritation rising from my stomach to my chest—but something about the severity of his words, the desperate way he watched me, made me think better of it.

“You make it sound like we had a conversation during my confinement,” I said slowly. I remembered my strange dreams, the nonsensical images, the foggy picture of him walking toward me in an empty space. No way he knew about that ... right?

His expression was impassive. “Don’t make me answer that.”

I considered his words—and the sly interest Steppe was showing to my thought stream just now. “All right. Not today,” I said finally.

A blush colored his cheeks as he exhaled. “Thank you,” he said, clearly relieved, and I almost broke down and demanded answers right there. Since when did Wesley St. John blush?

“You were about to tell me your idea,” he said, so successfully changing the subject that I decided to let it go. For now. “About how to handle Steppe with Olivia gone?”

“Right,” I said, “About that. So, the easiest or quickest way to fix this is if Steppe were to have some family surface. A relative he could pass his seat to, right?”

“Right.” Wes frowned. “But he has no family. Edie already checked and if there were a record, we would know—”

“Not if that family didn’t want to be found,” I said.

Wes stared back at me. I watched as he considered it, the wheels turning as he worked it out. “You make a valid point. I wouldn’t want to be recognized as Steppe’s family either. Doesn’t change facts. Edie has more contacts than anyone and if she says he has no family, then it’s probably true.”

“What if this person slipped under the radar? On purpose? Because they didn’t want to be found no matter what,” I said.

Wes narrowed his eyes to slits that almost glowed white in the shadowy room. “Then I’d say you lucked out,” he said. “Who did you find?”

I hesitated. Part of me hated to think about how I was betraying her trust, but like I’d told her already, this was bigger than her. “Cord,” I said finally.

A split second passed where Wes simply blinked—and then he burst out laughing.

I folded my arms over my chest and waited. I knew that laugh. It was the same condescending, I-know-everything laugh he’d used the day he’d found out I’d been using a plunger handle as a concealed weapon. It had pissed me off then and it pissed me off now.

“Okay, seriously, this is a little out there, even for you,” he said when the laughter had subsided.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he said, talking quickly now, “I mean that sometimes you come up with ... ideas that are ... not quite...” He trailed off as he took in my souring expression and cleared his throat. “How do you know? Or think you know?”

I tapped my fingertip to my temple and his forehead wrinkled. “Huh?” There was a beat of silence and then his eyes widened in the darkness and he sat up. “Ohhh,” he breathed. “Holy...” His jaw dropped. “Have you talked to her about it?”

“Sort of,” I said.

I told him about our conversation in the backyard and he sighed. “That sounds like Cord,” he said. “I can’t believe this. She never said a word. She obviously didn’t want anyone to know, ever, or she would’ve told us. What are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know. I can’t force her to step up and take the position,” I said, and in my mind, Steppe felt smug. “But with both sides out for blood, I don’t know what other choice we have.”

“Are you going to tell the others?” he asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Bullying her into it won’t work,” he warned.

“Believe me, I know. The only other possibility is to make her trust me.” Wes gave me a look and I rolled my eyes. “I know,” I said. “Also impossible.”

His skepticism melted into a smile and he leaned in, planting a quick kiss on my mouth. “I’ve learned nothing is impossible,” he said. “Especially for you.”

Someone knocked. I looked at the clock, but Wes jumped clear of the bed and into the attached bathroom in one swift motion.

“Yeah?” I called out warily.

The door opened a crack, a single beam of light streaming in from the hallway. “Is it safe?” Cambria called through the opening.

Wes reappeared from the bathroom. “As it’ll ever be,” he called out before I could answer. The door opened just as he leaned over and scooped his discarded tee off the floor. I reached over and clicked on the lamp.

“Liar,” Cambria said when she spotted him. And then to me, “Does your mother know he’s sleeping in here again?”

Before I could answer, the door opened again and George appeared with Emma hovering behind him. At the sight of Wes pulling his shirt on and Cambria making herself comfortable beside me on the bed, George grinned and pulled Emma into the room with him.

“Shut the door,” Cambria called and Emma pushed on it with her heel.

“Now that the party’s here,” Cambria said, crossing her legs, “You can finish the joke.”

“What joke?” George asked.

“There’s no joke,” I said, exchanging a glance with Wes.

“Oh, there was definitely a joke,” Cambria said. “I could hear Wes clear down the hall.”

The door opened as she said it and Derek walked in, adding, “Your mom’s a joke.”

Cambria’s brow shot up. “Who are you talking to?”

“Wes, of course,” he said, sitting beside her at the foot of the mattress.

“Dude. My mom’s dead,” Wes pointed out.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Derek said, ducking his head. “Tara’s then.”

Wes snorted and I gave him a look. “You’re not going to defend my mother?” I demanded in mock indignation.

He shrugged. “Have you met your mom? Pretty sure she can fight her own battles.”

Cambria made a strange noise and George asked, “Did you just laugh snort?”

“Okay, why are you all in my room in the middle of the night?” I interrupted.

George, Emma, and Derek all turned to Cambria—who turned to me with a guilty expression.

“What happened?” I demanded. “And this better not be like the time you set the kitchen on fire with bread dough and cooking wine,” I said. “Because I am not lying for you again.”

“It’s nothing like that,” she assured me.

“Then what?” I asked.

“What did Alex say?” she asked.

“He said—” I looked from her to the others, taking in their collective expression of
busted
. “Wait, how did you know he called?”

“We were up late and...” Cambria trailed off, not meeting my eyes.

“Why were you up late?” Wes asked—at least I wasn’t the only one in the dark here.

“Something happened. We ... didn’t want to bother you,” George said, his nervous gaze cutting up to where Wes stood beside me.

“You better tell them,” Derek muttered.

“There was an attempted attack by a pack of Werewolves,” Cambria said.

“What? When?” I demanded.

“Was anyone hurt?” Wes asked at the same time.

“No one was hurt. They didn’t breach the house. Edie,” George said to me, “apparently travels with an arsenal in that Hummer.”

“Where’s the Hummer?” I asked, confused as I thought of the empty driveway we’d seen upon arrival.

“In the garage,” Derek said.

“Anyway,” George went on. “Edie unloaded enough weaponry to arm a small country. She and the others formed a perimeter along the back fence. Derek and I took care of the ones coming in from the front.” He put up a hand to stop the argument I was about to unleash. “From the safety of the dining room windows,” he added. “Edie gave us crossbows. We never even shifted.”