Broken Blood (26 page)

We’ll have the witnesses we need,” Grandma said. “Alex has gone ahead to make sure of it. Don’t you worry. And Lexington isn’t a concern. He’ll do the right thing for his daughter. I think he’s more than proven that.”

“The important thing is the legal recording,” Professor Flaherty explained. She glanced at me and then back to Fee. I kept my head down, pretending to be wrapped up in my music. I shouldn’t have been listening—but I couldn’t help it.

“With The Draven,” Fee said, “Right?”

“Not just any Draven. The official Draven for CHAS, the one that has been passed from generation to generation of leaders,” Professor Flaherty explained.

“Don’t forget Steppe’s blood,” Jack said from the far end of the bench seat behind me. He sounded almost gleeful and I couldn’t blame him an inch for it. But his anxiety showed through and I hated how they all spoke with the same hint of worry.

“We won’t forget,” Fee said wryly.

“Damn right,” Grandma muttered. I almost sat up at that. Grandma cussing meant she was seriously worried.

“This is only going to work if the new law is written into the official Draven of the CHAS leadership while those in charge bear witness,” my mother said. In her lap, her folded hands twisted the edge of her jacket in a tight wad.

I reached over and covered my hands with hers. Our eyes met and I tried for a reassuring smile, but I only made it halfway before the images bombarded me. I gasped, rocking at the intensity of them.

These were not the foggy layered dreams I’d had when Steppe had held me prisoner. These were not the nightmares I’d woken from in the bedroom at Professor Flaherty’s. These were real; living, breathing—memories. Only they couldn’t possibly have happened yet. And they weren’t coming through the bond; these stemmed directly from my own subconscious.

One by one, they bombarded me until they’d sucked me right in and I became a part of them. Not just a guest, a participant. A roomful of Werewolves, hot with the heavy breath of a growling force. The room itself glowed with the fierceness of the yellowed eyes glinting back at me, at each other. One pack, sinewy and rugged with a sly look in their angry eyes as they faced off with another pack. The second pack broader, bigger, stronger than the first. Steppe standing at the front of the first, his glittering smile so full of victory it made my chest hurt. And the other—Who was the alpha for this one?

In the center of the room I spun in a panicky circle trying—and failing—to spot the alpha. Like the note had predicted, war was in this room. I could taste it.

I heard the gasp from far away and the vision was sucked sideways while I somehow managed to stay behind. The feeling was like a river rushing away from the edge of the falls—dropping into thin air before it vanished. I came aware, still gasping, and realized a moment later, the noise had been my own breath all along.

“Tara,” my mom was saying, shaking my wrists. “Tara, wake up,” she pleaded.

Wes still had his arm wound protectively around my shoulders. He peered down at me anxiously with knitted brows and shallow breaths. As the vision cleared away, I caught and held his gaze. “What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked.

“Don’t give in to the panic,” my mom said. “It’s not real.”

I cut away from Wes long enough to study my mother. “How do you know?” I asked.

She hesitated and something foreign clicked inside my gut. Some strange puzzle piece I hadn’t known I was missing. I filed it away for later and turned back to Wes, who was still demanding answers. No one else spoke. Every spare eye was trained on me. “I’m fine,” I told him and then again to the rest of the van. “I’m fine. I fell asleep and had a bad dream,” I said. My mother relaxed.

Slowly, the tension in the air dissipated.

Someone’s phone rang.

“Hello?” Jack said from behind me.

A pause and then, “We understand. No, this is not an attempt to realign—”

“Tara, headphones,” my mom whispered.

I sighed and reinserted the ear buds that had come out when I’d begun flailing. Over the sound of Vance Joy singing about whose mess this was anyway, Jack’s deep baritone bled through. And I let it.

“Yes, that’s fine. All we’re asking is that you bear witness,” Jack said. And after a pause, “It’s not about their laws. We need you to bear witness for the purpose of goodwill. The law will be rescinded. He will step down.”

Werewolves, I realized, trying my best to keep my thoughts muted just in case. They were going to ask Werewolves to bear witness to this. Would that put them in the same room as where we were headed? Like my dream just now?

Of all the times to be kept in the dark...

I resisted the urge to sit up and listen harder or demand answers I’d already agreed not to be told. This would only work if Cambria’s compulsion held, if I muted my end of the bond, and filled any connection or influence that might be left with white noise.

Determined to hold up my end, I resettled myself into my earlier position, tucked into the crook of Wes’s shoulder, and focused on the music. It lulled me.

I dozed and woke with no sense of time or place.

The sky was streaked with slanted sunlight and the traffic was thick. The clock on the dashboard put it at the early side of rush hour. We were nearing the city.

At the sight of the familiar skyscrapers in the distance, the sea of brake lights and never-ending construction zones, my stomach cramped. I remembered the conversation I’d overheard earlier. About The Draven, the official book for recording our laws. Steppe would’ve kept it close to him. Almost as close as he’d kept me for those weeks...

I realized where we were going. We were returning to the site of my prison. We were going to CHAS headquarters. The drive in had been far less eventful than my journey out—or maybe that was the benefit of my checking out in favor of the music. Had this really been the way I’d operated for months once? Back when all those voices had risen to a crescendo, before I’d learned how to control the mental demands of my pack in order to be the alpha.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

Leo. Miles. Liliana—that accidental meeting in the alley one night. The first night. The encounter that had changed everything.

Except that, according to Steppe, it had been no accident. Neither was the choice Vera had insisted I make.

None of this was.

It was coming for me no matter what I did. Liliana had been a catalyst, but she wasn’t the cause. I sat up enough to glance at my mom. Her head pressed against the glass of the window beside her as she dozed.

For once, the worry lines in her face were relaxed.

I leaned closer and caught the scent of oven cleaner and smiled. Some things never changed. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe that was life. Nothing was permanent, not really. Not the past, not that fear and uncertainty I’d felt that night in the alley, not the worry I’d felt over Wes that night I’d driven off in his car and left him to fight Leo’s Werewolf minion by himself or the countless other times we’d faced danger together or apart.

I snuggled closer to Wes and felt his hand wrap tighter around my shoulder, squeezing lightly in that protective way he had. I turned my face toward his shirt and inhaled the musky scent that was his animal and human intertwined. Nope, that hadn’t changed either. I still remembered it like it was that first night. Muscle memory.

So many things felt like ancient history and yet simultaneously like they’d just happened yesterday. I thought about that as we exited the highway and drove over a bridge with a lion’s head statue on either side of the gateway ahead. When our tires crossed onto pavement, we were here.

DC.

I was back.

And rooted, for better or worse, in the here and now.

I wound my fingers around a handful of shirt and Wes looked down at me. “You’re awake,” he said. I hesitated, unsure if I should turn up my music or admit I’d paused it.

“You can take a break from the tunes,” he said.

I sat up and slipped the ear buds out.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

“I think so. Surprised I was able to sleep,” I said. I glanced behind me and found Grandma, Jack, and Fee typing on their phones. In the front seat, Professor Flaherty did the same. All of them wore matching frowns of concentration.

“What did I miss?” I asked lightly—we both knew he wouldn’t tell me.

“A bathroom break,” he said. “Candy bar?” He held up two choices.

“Caramel,” I said.

“Figured.” He smiled and handed it over. “The other one was for me.”

We ate a few bites in silence as Kane took us farther into downtown and then, slowly, out the other side again. We crossed New York Avenue and kept going, the route quickly becoming familiar.

I lowered the candy bar. “We’re going back there, aren’t we?” I asked quietly.

Behind me, the telltale sounds of buttons being pressed went silent.

“Yes,” Wes said finally.

“Are there ... How many others are meeting us?” I asked, trying to figure out a way to ask my question that would solicit a real answer. “Werewolves, I mean. How many of them?”

“None,” Wes said.

“What?” I looked up at him and back at Grandma. “Why not? I thought you—”

“We’re going to broadcast Steppe’s speech via a live internet link. That way, everyone who needs to see it will, and we’ll all be safe.” He leaned in close. “You’ll be safe,” he added.

I stared at him. “We’re going to rescind the law, save the world, via a webinar?” I deadpanned.

Wes sat back and fought a smile. “I knew you’d be excited. See, Edie?”

“It’s the safest route,” Grandma said and went back to her typing.

I shook my head and twisted to glance at Fee. She shrugged. Jack blinked back at me. “This is not about you,” he said sternly. “I don’t feel like getting shot again.”

I smiled. “Of course.”

“If you’re going to argue, you can just put your ear thingies back in,” Grandma said.

“No,” I protested. “I’ve listened to my entire play list twice.”

“Ornery. Just like your mother,” she grumbled but I caught her smile.

Kane circled left and we pulled into a deserted lot and stopped. Outside, a gray building loomed up, unassuming, nondescript—basically, terrifying.

My breath caught as I read the sign that advertised CHAS headquarters to the outside world: Council for Himalayan Affairs and Security. C.H.A.S. It would’ve been amusing if I’d been able to see it as anything other than my prison.

My pulse sped.

“It’s okay. No one in there can hurt you,” Wes said as the other filed out.

“I’m not worried,” I lied.

Outside, the rest of our caravan joined us in the otherwise deserted lot. From the middle car—Grandma’s Hummer—Mr. Lexington, Victoria, Astor, and Logan climbed out. The last car was crammed tight with Derek, George, Emma, and Cambria—with Steppe bound and sandwiched between the girls in the back. Cambria had insisted, despite her better judgment, the compulsion would work best if they were in direct contact.

I felt for her.

The group assembled slowly, most eyes trained on Grandma. Hers, however, were trained on Mr. Lexington. “Can you still get in?” she asked.

“I would think so. It’s not like Gordon’s been around to change the codes,” he said, making his way to the double doors that led inside.

A block letter sign read “Staff Only” and below it in small lettering, “No Admittance. Secured Building. Government Officials Only.”

“Pretty much any variation of
Don’t Feel Welcome Here
,” Wes commented.

Up ahead, the door clicked and Mr. Lexington held it open. One by one, we filed inside.

The lobby was sparsely furnished with gleaming tile floors, tasteful but forgettable artwork, and not a single reception desk in sight. The only next step was another set of doors directly across from where we’d entered. This was, apparently, nothing more than a landing pad. And without a receptionist in sight, I could only assume there had once been security of some sort and now—

“The security force—what was left of them—we found downstairs a few days ago when we came to retrieve Olivia,” Mr. Lexington explained.

“Can you check to make sure the building hasn’t been accessed since you were here?” Grandma asked.

“Security booth is this way,” Mr. Lexington said.

“Jack,” Grandma began.

“On it,” Jack said, already falling into step with Mr. Lexington.

Grandma turned to Kane and Professor Flaherty. “We’ll need to search and secure the perimeter before we go live.”

“We’re on it,” Kane said.

“We can help,” Derek said, stepping forward with George beside him.

“No, I need you two on Steppe. Don’t let him leave your sight,” Grandma said.

Derek nodded, but George hesitated and glanced at me. “Do what she says,” I told him, biting back a smile at his confusion. No matter who tried giving orders, I was his leader and a part of me—the alpha part—loved knowing that. They filed back outside to get Steppe from the car.

“Everyone else, let’s get inside and set up,” Grandma said. She gestured to a set of doors in the center of the row facing set we’d come in.

Steppe’s glare looked frozen in place as he was led inside and the sunlight abruptly cut away as the door shut behind him. His sweater was crooked and his pants wrinkled but mostly, the brooding grimace he aimed at everyone except Cambria told me all I needed to know about his opinion of the plan. He would do it, but he didn’t like it.

“You doing okay?” Wes whispered in my ear as the group dispersed and got to work.

“I’m fine, I told you,” I said, but my shoulder blades were firmly pressed against the wall just inside the door. Just the thought of moving deeper into the building set me on edge. I tried to take a deep breath, but it got stuck in my chest.

Wes grabbed my hand and led me along the wall into the corner. “Tara,” he said, brushing his thumb across my cheek as he cupped my face. “You don’t have to be fine. You don’t have to always be the one taking care of everyone else. It’s okay to let us take care of you once in a while.”

He was right, of course. I’d agreed to step aside and stay out of the plans for today, knowing that was the best way for Cambria’s compulsion to work. But it was one thing to stand by and another to actively relinquish the reins.