Broken Blood (4 page)

He hesitated for a split second and then said, “Yes. He told me I would be doing my country and my species a great service. I would help rid the world of the confused, the abominations, the unaligned and evil. He told me I would be a hero.”

“I bet you ate it up,” I said.

He flashed me a glare and, for a split second, I was pinned with guilt for goading him. This was Alex. He wanted to do the right thing, whatever “right” meant to him in that moment. And he was loyal. How was I doubting that?

But then his story caught up with me and I blinked back into the reality of my cell. My imprisonment, most likely thanks to the boy sitting in front of me. And the guilt evaporated.

“I did a few small recon jobs for him and then he got wind of your tangle with Olivia. And the Lexingtons. He came to me and made sure I ...intervened.”

“You removed the bond between George and I,” I remembered.

“Steppe had been experimenting with Unbinilium and his cocktail needed a guinea pig. He decided to test it on you.”

“The metal rod you hit George with,” I said.

He nodded. “It suppressed the bond without harming George physically. It worked, but it was only temporary. He sent his scientists back to work.”

“And Kane and the others?” I asked, going back over every moment of that day, angrier and angrier as I went.

“As far as I knew, Kane had no idea,” Alex said. His eyes found mine and pleaded silently for something I couldn’t quite understand. “It really was supposed to be an extraction only. I suspect Kane had his own set of orders.”

I cocked my head. “You expect me to believe that?” I asked. “You betrayed me and everyone I love and you want me to believe you stopped just short of ordering people to try and kill me?”

He leaned forward, his body language searching for some sign of forgiveness, but I didn’t move. “I’m sorry, Tara. I would never hurt you. Please know that.”

I didn’t say anything.

Alex leaned another inch and his voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s disbanded almost the entire board. He’s passed new laws, blamed the violence on you. He’s been watching you for ... well, longer than you’ve known him. It’s always been Steppe, Tara. He’s the bad guy.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Every single problem you’ve had, right down to your first shift in the alley that night, he’s behind it all. He wants your power. In his head and his hands. He’s manipulated you and the others into doing exactly what he wants. Everything has been about controlling you. Everyone. Leo, Miles, all of it.”

I stared at him as uncomprehending as if he’d just told me the Earth was flat. So much disbelief and denial—I shook with anger.

How had I ever felt anything for Alex? Looking at him now, I couldn’t believe I’d kissed him. Or fought beside him. Or trusted him with anything. He was clearly unworthy of any of those things and I’d handed him all of it without a thought.

“I must’ve been such an easy mark,” I said.

“That’s not what—”

“No,” I said, cutting him off. “You’re lying. He sent you in here to mess with my head. To break me. But it won’t work.”

There was more intensity in his expression than I’d ever seen. Even more than the day he first kissed me—right after saving my life. I wavered but held fast as he said, “Whether you want to believe me or not, it’s true. If you don’t accept it soon, he will break you, Tara. He wants your blood, broken or not, and he’ll do anything to get it.”

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D
ays passed. The only person I saw other than a guard bringing my meals was Mr. Sandefur—twice he came to take three large vials of my blood. When he stopped coming, I broke off a tooth from the comb and went back to a habit I’d developed when I’d first arrived of recording days with scratches on the wall.

I began to wonder if I’d dreamt Alex’s visit. And then I began to convince myself I had. It was easier than accepting his betrayal. So, I pretended. And I slept.

And when I slept, I dreamed.

Fog licked at the walls of my mind. Sleep thinned into a loose thread, dangling me somewhere between awake and dreaming. Behind closed lids, hills sheeted in white snow stretched out farther than I could see inside the landscape of my own mind. A few yards away, a figure flickered, undulating, white form against white backdrop until it began to take shape. A woman, long hair blonde enough to disappear against the background. I couldn’t recognize her through the haze of my own confusion—and I was just aware enough to feel a nagging sense of nerves at what the picture might morph into should I reach for it.

Dreams and reality were equally scary in my new world. But I’d never been very good at caution. I walked toward the figure.

Slowly, as if drawing a twig through molasses, I raised my hand and reached for the woman in white. My fingers brushed her shoulder and both felt brittle against the softness of the ether surrounding us. As if understanding my unasked question, she shook her head without turning.

Who was this woman in white? I needed to know—and I had nothing to lose.

I reached again for her shoulder but this time she yanked away, floating just out of reach. I took a step, but no matter how close I got, she always darted an inch or two farther. I ground my teeth and gathered my energy. Then I bent at the knees and lunged, arms out.

She flitted away as the vision began to fade.

I woke to the shape of the figure still at the forefront of my mind and the face of a man hovering above me.

“Wake up.”

I jumped—more from the sudden sight of him than the sound of his voice—and scrambled backward into the corner of my new room. Cell. Whatever.

Mr. Lexington stood over me, glowering. I studied him, chest heaving with angry breaths, while tracing the scent as he left. His hair had thinned and he’d lost weight. His shoulders weren’t nearly as broad and confident as when I’d first met him. The again, he’d been a hybrid Werewolf-Hunter that day. What the heck was he now?

Pissed at me, for one. And the feeling was mutual.

“What do you want?” I asked.

He straightened but didn’t back away. I saw the gleam in his eyes from underneath his brows as he stared down at me, and I knew he enjoyed making me nervous. I sniffed the air.

As always, when he came around, something smelled ... off. I had no idea what it was, but I think it had something to do with Steppe. He’d done something to “cure” Mr. Lexington from his Werewolf abilities before he’d taken me prisoner. I didn’t know what but I also didn’t trust it. And I hated how the strange smell called what was left of my own wolf to the surface. I’d yet to find a way to pull it all the way out and embrace it, but I wanted to. So, so badly.

And I wanted to use it to put Mr. Lexington in his place. Before he could put me in mine. Normally, I’d understand his side. I’d killed his wife, after all. But that had been self-defense after they’d both aligned themselves with Gordon Steppe and tried to kill me. Betraying their own daughter in the process.

I could still see the hurt in Victoria’s eyes as she’d watched them dismiss her in favor of following Steppe’s orders and attacking me in that warehouse. How they’d ignored her, left her behind, and cast her off—over and over again. And despite mine and Victoria’s rocky friendship—okay, that was probably an understatement considering the exploding dog food in my locker—I still felt a ping in my chest when I saw how little she mattered to the two people who were supposed to love her most.

“Get up,” Mr. Lexington said, still unmoving. “I’m to bring you to the clinic. You’ll start your trials today.”

“Trials for what?” I asked, perking up at the idea of finally leaving this room.

Mr. Lexington scowled. Apparently, I’d asked a stupid question. Or, more likely, he considered me a nuisance simply because I still breathed. “For the bond,” he snapped. “Put these on.” He threw a pile of fabric at me. I put my hand up and blocked it before it could hit me in the face. It fell into my lap instead.

“You know, I keep wondering what your daughter would say if she could see you now,” I said.

“Don’t talk about my daughter,” he snapped, his face reddening. “You’ve involved her enough.”

I bristled at that but let it go. “Fine, let’s talk about your wolf,” I said. “Where is it? How did Gordon get rid of it?”

“He cured me.” His smile turned sharp. “Just like he’ll cure you if you choose it.”

My stomach tightened at the thought. “You’re wrong,” I said, swallowing hard and hoping like hell I spoke truth. “A Werewolf exists in you as a second spirit. You can’t cure a spirit. You can only—”

“Only what?” he pressed. I bit my lip, unwilling to finish. “Kill it?” When I still didn’t answer, he leaned down close enough that his warm breath washed over me and I wrinkled my nose. “I was willing to do whatever necessary to reclaim my birthright. Just like I’m willing to do whatever necessary to avenge your crimes. It’s why I’m here. Don’t forget that.” His voice was overly loud and I shrank back against the excessive volume, but there was no ferocity in his expression, not like when the irritation had flickered first in his eyes and then in his words. These lines were delivered with a hollow expression. Practiced. Almost rehearsed. Still, I couldn’t help but respond. If for no other reason than to keep him talking.

“My crimes, as you call them, are wanting peace and equality for all creatures,” I shot back. My face heated as my temper flared. I felt angry and helpless and resigned to knowing I would never change his mind. But I couldn’t sit back and let them pass judgment so unfairly either.

“Exactly,” he said as if I’d just admitted my guilt. “You’ve decided to play God, handing out sentences and passing judgment where you see fit. Just like him,” he muttered, his voice dropping from stage volume to a near-whisper as he said the last part.

“Steppe? I’m nothing like him,” I said.

He offered a nefarious smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “The video footage of your method of leadership would suggest otherwise.” Then he straightened and gestured to the clothes in my lap. “I’ll be back in five minutes. Be ready.”

He turned on his heel and left.

Video footage? What had I missed?

I got dressed quickly. No part of me wanted to be halfway exposed when Mr. Lexington returned. The clothes he’d provided were made of thin cotton and I shivered even as I tied the drawstring around my waist to hold the pants up over my angled hips. Turned out being held prisoner was an excellent weight-loss plan.

Mr. Lexington returned a moment later, the strange smell wafting in with him as he pushed open the door and poked his head inside. “Let’s go,” he said.

“What did you mean by video footage?” I asked, planting my feet.

His expression tightened—but not before his eyes flicked up to the mounted camera in the corner. “You’ll come willingly or I’ll force you. Choice is yours.”

It was a standoff.

In the end, my curiosity won out and I blinked, muttering under my breath. Without bothering to ask, Mr. Lexington turned and led the way.

The rubble across the hall had been mostly cleared away. There was still a giant depression in the wall where someone had attempted a hole and hadn’t quite gotten it right, but it baffled me. Why would someone set an explosion from the inside? Wouldn’t it make more sense to break in rather than break out?

Unless this was done by someone else Gordon was holding...

I followed Mr. Lexington, watchful of the twists and turns we took back to the clinic. I strained to expand my senses as we walked, searching for some sign of my friends. Of another cell or evidence of more prisoners, but there was nothing.

No extraneous sounds on the first hall. All of the doors we passed were closed and the rooms on the other side were dark. Nothing was labeled. We passed no one. With the nondescript décor and plain white-tiled floor, we could’ve been in any generic office building under the sun. Nothing clued me in as to where I was being kept. If Steppe hadn’t told me we were underneath the main floor of CHAS headquarters in DC, I would never have known.

Up ahead, Mr. Lexington stopped at the door with frosted glass and waved his ID badge over the card reader. The light changed from red to green with a beep and the doors slid wide. Inside, I eyed the shiny metal cages once again. Like the last time I’d been here, they were empty, but this time, I spotted clear traces of past occupants. Swatches of fur in various colors littered the floors. One had a large blood stain near the cage door. I shivered and turned away before I could see anything more.

I caught the scent of wolf as I passed. My nose wrinkled and I shut my eyes, hoping I wouldn’t recognize anyone specific from my lost pack. Mr. Lexington snickered when he caught me watching the empty cages.

“That one put up a serious fight,” he said. “But in the end, she was cured.”

I hated the way he said the word. Like it was a rebirth and death all at once. “Screw you,” I said and he laughed.

Like before, empty cots lined the opposite wall with curtains separating the spaces. I focused on how empty they were, how devoid of victims, until I’d left the cages behind. Near the center of the room, I spotted an open door that led into an office carved out of the atrium of the space. Inside, a desk strewn with files and loose papers sat against the wall. Random tools littered the desk and the counter behind it. A pair of reading glasses winked back at me from the reflection of the desk lamp. There was a strange familiarity to the scent lingering but I shoved it away. All of my recognition brought pain.

At the end of the rows of cots, in the back of the room, monitors beeped out a soft rhythm where they sat hooked to Olivia. Mr. Lexington herded me over to her bedside and I scooted as close as I could bear until he stopped shoving at me. Her skin was paler than my last visit, almost translucent underneath the glaring lights. The beeping of the machines was a steady thing, but slow. Too slow. Her chest barely rose and fell with each breath.

I tried to remember all of the life, the evil and bitterness, with which she’d hunted me all those months ago. But there wasn’t a trace of it left on her. And the beeping of her vitals reminded me instead of another person I’d stood and watched as they fought for life instead of death. Someone else I was responsible for bringing down.