Blood Bond (17 page)

“I thought you were going to use your
compulsion thing on her,” George said.

“I’m not doing that until later. I want to
be home with her for a while, make sure the story sinks in,”
Cambria said.

“Family night?” I frowned. “How is it family
night with Grandma gone and—”

“And me here?” she
finished. “I dunno, but she said something about
Beaches
on DVD. You know
I don’t watch that mushy crap, right?”

“It’s something we used to do when I was a
kid,” I explained. I tried to remember the last time Mom scheduled
a movie night but I couldn’t. It made me ashamed over what I was
about to do. I’d promised I’d meet her halfway, that I’d do my part
to repair the distrust between us. And here I was, already sneaking
away before we’d even begun.

“Tara? Earth to Tara, can you hear me?”
Cambria waved her hand in front of my face.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“Just distracted. What was the
question?”

“I asked you what the
chances are of getting your mom to watch
Kill Bill
instead. I don’t even know
what
Beaches
is
about, except that it’s a chick flick.”

“Oh, it’s sad, actually. I cry every
time.”

She gaped at me. “And your mom thought we’d
want to watch something sad? Tonight?”

“She probably didn’t think about it.”

“Um, yeah, or she sucks at this game,” she
said.

“What game is that?” George asked.

“The game of cheering us up,” Cambria
answered. She pulled her phone out and started clicking
buttons.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Checking for the closest Redbox. I need a
backup plan.”

“Let me guess—a romantic comedy?”

Cambria eyed him, clearly not amused.
“Action. Fighting. Blood and guts. I’m a Hunter, not a
cheerleader.”

George chuckled. “Cheerleaders are your
stereotype of choice, huh?”

Cambria shrugged. “They
strike me as the type to make
eww
faces at the screen when someone gets staked.
Plus, their voices annoy the hell out of me.”

“Buffy was a cheerleader,” I pointed
out.

Cambria tipped her head. “Point taken.”

“Tara was a cheerleader,” George said.

“For three seconds,” I corrected, “and I
only did it because of you.”

“Me?” he asked.

“Tara? Cambria? Are you out here?” Wes’s
voice rang out from the trail behind us.

“Here,” I called, rising to my feet.

He rounded the path, his fingers tugging
absently at the tie knotted around his neck. “The pack’s assembling
for the run. We need to head back.”

I ignored the fluttering in my stomach at
the sight of him in his suit. Now was not the time. “And they
believed you weren’t feeling well?”

He shrugged. “After the service, how
emotional everyone was … it wasn’t a hard sell.”

“Won’t they be offended you didn’t do the
run?”

“I told them I’d catch up. They’ll wonder
about it but not enough to come looking. There’re a lot of people
here for this one, so it’ll be harder to realize I’m not
there.”

“You make it sound like you do a lot of
these,” I said.

“Enough to know this large crowd doesn’t
happen often.” His eyes hardened. “Liliana’s was a ghost town. The
only ones who ran were Jack and Derek.”

“No one else?” I asked. I’d never met her
before the night she attacked me, but it still made me sad that no
one else had cared enough for her to make the run.

“A few others came, but I think it was
mainly out of respect for Jack and Fee.”

“You didn’t run?” I asked.

“No.” His eyes flashed in anger, hot and
quick. “She hurt you. I didn’t run.”

I remembered the way we’d met that night,
the shock I’d been in. It felt like years separating that moment
from this one. I was no longer someone who lost it at the sight of
death. Still, the grief over life lost thickened the air just the
same. As did the guilt.

Wes looked at Cambria. “Derek was looking
for you. He said to save him a seat at the dinner table—and a
brownie.”

Cambria smiled. “The seat I can do. I make
no promises about the brownie.”

Wes trailed a hand down my cheek where my
makeup had run.

“Am I a mess?” I asked.

“You look beautiful,” he said, his voice low
enough that it wouldn’t carry to where the others stood down the
path. “I didn’t want to leave without telling you that.” The way he
stared at me, like could see all the way through to inside me, made
me shiver.

“You look pretty amazing yourself,” I
whispered. I ran a hand over the smooth fabric of his jacket and
rested my palms on his shoulders.

“I should dress up more often.” He kissed my
cheek and then moved lower, pressing his lips to the space between
my jaw and neck. He smelled like the woods, a heavy scent that made
me think of loose bark being pulled away from a tree. My arms
around him tightened.

“Hey, it’s all right. I’ll see you in a
couple days,” he murmured. His hand made soothing circles on my
back for a moment longer before he pulled away. “I’m only a phone
call away,” he added.

“I know,” I whispered.

“You ready?”

I nodded.

He kissed me on the forehead and took my
hand as we headed back.

The front lawn was packed with cars,
scattered this way and that, no rhyme or reason. Wes’s Aston Martin
was parked near the end of the driveway, out of sight of the house.
He’d done it on purpose on the hope no one would notice right away
that he was gone. George and Cambria hung back as we neared his
car.

“I almost forgot. Cord is in with Vera. You
should check on her,” he said, stopping in front of his door. He
opened it but didn’t climb inside.

I sighed. I was the last person Cord wanted
to see, especially today, but I couldn’t say no. And I needed to
make sure she didn’t see us leave. “All right, I’ll see her before
we go.”

He cupped my face with his hands and pressed
his lips lightly against mine. I pressed back hard. He responded to
the pressure by deepening the kiss. I needed it that way.
Tenderness would only make the goodbye harder.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said, pulling away
and leaning his forehead against mine before finally breaking
contact.

“Do me a favor,” I said, “and stay clear of
Steppe while you’re in Washington.”

“Got it.” He slid sunglasses into place so
that I wasn’t sure if the look in his eyes matched his spoken
agreement.

“And that includes his minions,” I added. He
grinned back at me, making my stomach tighten into a hard knot.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the worrier here?”
he asked, arching a brow above the rim of his glasses.

“Be careful.”

“You first.”

“Wes …”

“All right, all right.” He held up a hand.
“I’ll be careful.” His smile disappeared. “Call me every single
day.”

“I will.”

I watched him climb behind the wheel and
pull the door shut with a soft click. I caught his eye in the side
mirror and hugged my arms around myself. The car eased forward with
barely a sound. He hung his hand out the window, waving at me. I
waved back, a single hand raised in the air, and stood there until
he reached the end of the driveway and disappeared around the curve
of the trees.

When he’d gone, I scanned the spot at the
edge of the grass where I’d left my car. I’d wedged it in at an odd
angle, just short of double-parking, so that no one could block me
in. I’d have to drive between a few trees to get out, where the
edge of the woods met the yard, but it was doable.

I joined Cambria and George and headed
inside.

“Wes said Cord’s with Vera.” My voice
sounded loud against the absolute quiet.

After the rumble of so many hushed
conversations that morning, the silence seemed to echo, like a
ringing in the ears. “We should go say hi, make sure she’s not
planning on coming out anytime soon.”

I stopped in the foyer and faced the others.
Their tense expressions mirrored my insides.

“See you in ten,” said George pointedly. The
three of us exchanged a look.

George disappeared up the stairs to retrieve
his bag. I followed Cambria back to the library that had now become
Vera’s hideaway. Cambria’s knock was followed by a faint, “Come
in.”

Vera was in the armchair, her specially
brewed tea cooling beside her. Cord stood against the far wall, her
arms folded. Sunlight leaked into the window behind her, giving her
blond hair a halo effect. She looked up as I came in and the
expression on her face struck me as angelic. Not in its gentleness
but in its fierce anguish. Then she looked away and all that was
left were shadows—under her eyes, across her cheekbones—and drying
tears sparkling in the light.

“Hello, girls. Come in, sit down.” Vera
gestured to the chair across from her. I nodded at Cambria and
moved behind it, resting my hands on the back.

“Are they gone?” Cord asked.

“Yes,” I said. “They left a few minutes
ago.”

She nodded and bit her lip. I hoped she
wouldn’t start crying in front of me. Or that if she did, I’d know
what to do.

“Um, how are you feeling, Vera?” Cambria
asked, cutting through the awkward silence.

“Better, now that I’m out of that heat,” she
said. “This is certainly a day I’m glad not to be a wolf. I don’t
think I could’ve kept up.”

“Yeah, it must be pretty cool to have all
that speed,” Cambria said. The wistful note in her voice caught my
attention. I looked down at her, but all I could see was the top of
her head from where I stood. Was it simply curiosity or something
bigger that had her imagining what it would be like to be a
wolf?

“I was telling Cord what a nice turn-out it
was,” Vera said.

“Who were all of those people? Did they
really all know Bailey?” I asked.

“Some did. Others were here to support Jack
and The Cause as a whole.”

“So the group is bigger than just you guys?”
Cambria asked.

Vera nodded. “We have branches in almost
every state. Not everyone came today. Only those who lived close
enough and could get away.”

“And all of them want peace? They believe it
can really happen?” Cambria asked.

“They believe in the right not to fight in a
war that isn’t theirs,” Vera said.

“But they have to realize how impossible it
is. Peace, I mean. Especially with someone like Gordon Steppe in
charge.” Cambria was leaning forward now, like she was hoping Vera
would argue, tell her it wasn’t impossible. Near the window, Cord
made a noise like a snarl at the mention of Steppe.

Vera smiled patiently, as if she’d heard all
this too often to be bothered with debating it. “Faith is believing
even when you can’t see the solution.”

I shivered at the same time a knock sounded
at the door.

It opened before Vera could call out and
George poked his head inside. His eyes were wide, his breathing
uneven. “Tay?”

I stiffened. “What is it?

“I don’t—” He stopped and clutched at his
stomach, doubling over.

I took a step forward, alarm shooting
through me. “George, what’s wrong?”

He straightened enough to look at me. “I
don’t feel right,” he said in a shaky voice.

“You don’t look so good,” said Cord.

My stomach dropped. No way. This couldn’t
happen yet. We had to get away first. Get to Astor. I rushed
forward, arms out to steady him. Just as I reached him, he looked
straight at me and winked.

I faltered.

The gesture threw me off for only a moment
before I realized what he was doing and redoubled my efforts.
“Let’s get you some water. We need to get you cooled down,” I said.
I took his arm and led him out.

“You need some help?” I heard Cambria say
from behind me. Her tone was off, and I knew she’d recognized the
ploy.

“No, we’ll be fine. You stay,” I called
back. I ushered us through the door and pulled it closed. George’s
bag sat on the floor in the foyer. He grabbed it as we passed.

The front door clicking shut echoed in my
ears like a gunshot. My heart pounded, my breathing shallow. Any
second, I expected the front door to open and Cord to come running
out demanding to know what was going on. Or Jack and Fee to come
barreling out of the trees to carry me home and lock me in my
room.

I ran to the car, weaving in and out between
bumpers and truck beds. George followed, not saying a word. I
opened my car door, crawled inside, and eased it closed again.
George did the same, only his door slammed. I whipped my head
around and glared at him.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

I didn’t answer except to crank the engine,
shift the gears, and drive.

I stared harder into my rearview than I did
the gravel driveway in front of me. The woods closed around the
view of the house behind us, finally obscuring it. I rolled to a
stop where the gravel met the asphalt and forced myself to breathe
steadily. In and out. In and out.

George dropped his hand onto mine where I
white-knuckled the gearshift. Our eyes met, and he grinned. “We did
it.”

“We did it,” I repeated, surprised and
relieved and a little scared as I pulled away.

Chapter Ten

At the Tennessee state line, to the sound of
Plain White T’s singing about feeling like a boomerang, my phone
finally rang. George lowered the volume as the screen lit up with a
single name.

“It’s Wes,” I said, filling with
anticipation and dread. If he was calling so soon, did that mean
something had gone wrong?

The phone rang again.

“Are you going to answer it?” George asked.
He reached over as if to take it. I yanked it back out of his reach
and scowled at him.