Authors: Heather Hildenbrand
Tags: #romance, #urban fantasy, #love, #political, #paranormal, #werewolves, #teen, #ya, #bond, #hunters, #shifting
“Yes.”
Unbelievably, he laughed. I gawked at him
until he got himself under control and, to my horror, tried to kiss
me again. “Wes,” I hissed, pushing him away. “Did you hear what I
said?”
“Yeah, so what? Sucks for him.” He leaned in
again. I stopped him with a hand on his chest.
“So, that’s weird. I can’t just do this with
you, knowing he can feel what I feel. It’s … gross.”
“He can learn to ignore it,” he said.
I pushed him harder, enough that he didn’t
try to kiss me again. “I don’t know if that’s possible,” I said. “I
can’t turn it on and off, so I don’t think he can, either.”
He shook his head. “I’m going to wish you
never saved him, aren’t I?”
I attempted a smile. “Probably.”
Chapter Twenty
Everything hurt. I wasn’t sure I’d survive
my mom’s schedule for long. By the time I got to Jack’s, my legs
were liquid and my arms were dead weight at my sides. Some of it
was my own fault—tackling Alex had consequences. The rest was
evidence that two weeks without a workout was too long.
My mom stopped the car next to Jack’s truck.
She’d insisted on driving Cambria and me, since Grandma and Alex
had “things to do,” as they’d said before disappearing after
lunch.
“I’ll be back at four,” she said through the
open window.
I nodded.
“See you later,” Cambria called. She waved
as my mom made a loop and started back up the drive.
“Slow down,” I said, falling behind Cam as
she hurried toward the front door.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, eyeing me. “You look
like crap, you know that?”
“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes and resisted the
urge to point out that she’d gotten two more hours of sleep than
I’d had. It wouldn’t have changed the fact that she was right. “Why
are you in such a hurry, anyway?” I asked.
“Derek’s taking me out,” she said.
“You suck.”
“Why, because your house arrest doesn’t
apply to me? Yeah, I know.”
“Only because you were the
whistle-blower.”
She shrugged “A girl’s gotta do …”
“Yeah, yeah.” I waved a hand. “Where’s he
taking you?”
“Some hole-in-the-wall bar we went to last
week. He knows the owner. Their pool tables are in pretty good
shape, and the music’s decent.”
I stopped walking to glare at her. “You
know, I hate you a little bit right now.”
The front door opened and Derek stepped out,
his tanned skin a stark contrast to the crisp white of his beater.
“Oh, hey, Tara,” he said, sounding friendlier with those three
words than he’d ever been.
“Hey.” My greeting came out guarded and his
gaze on me sharpened.
“Listen, about the wolf thing …” I braced
myself while he seemed to search for words. Finally, he shrugged.
“Pretty cool.”
I blinked at him. Whatever I’d expected, it
wasn’t that. He didn’t seem bothered by my lack of response. His
eyes lit up as he caught sight of Cambria. I watched him drink in
the amount of exposed skin on her body. Between her halter and
cutoffs, she showed more than she covered.
“You ready?” he asked. His voice dropped an
octave. It might’ve been funny if my desire to go with them, to
slough off all the war talk and impending doom, and pass the day
with a pool cue and jukebox wasn’t so unbearable.
“Ready,” Cambria told him. To me she said,
“Babe, good luck.” There was sympathy in her words. Derek took her
hand and led her to Jack’s truck.
I rubbed my hand over my face, resisted the
urge to scream, and went inside.
I found Fee first, bent over a pot on the
stove. The kitchen was bright and shiny and free of any baked
goods, the complete opposite from how I’d seen it last. I caught
the scent of something pungent and bitter.
“Hi, Fee,” I said.
She turned from the steel pot. Her hair, had
come loose from its haphazard tail and wisped over her neck and
ears. “Hi, Tara, glad to have you home.” There was enough reproach
in her words to make me feel guilty.
“I’m sorry about leaving like that.”
“I’m sorry too,” she said. “I should’ve been
there for you—and George. We all should’ve. But after Bailey …”
“I understand,” I assured her. I hated the
haunted look in her eyes. “You don’t have to apologize. You had a
lot going on. I can’t imagine.” I swallowed. “It was bad timing,
really.”
“Yes, it was.” She smiled but it looked
empty. “I’m glad to know George is all right. You did a very
special thing for him.”
“I did what anyone would.”
“I don’t know about that. It’s a big
sacrifice. Not just the up-front cost, but long term. You’ll always
be connected.”
“He told you about it?”
“Yes. I did a full examination after he and
Wes got back.”
“How is he?” I leaned forward, suddenly
anxious.
“Physically, he’s fine. Healthier than when
he was human.”
“And mentally?”
“Mentally, it’s going to be tricky. The bond
will take some getting used to, for both of you, I think.”
I tried to read her expression, to see if
maybe George told her about our shared feelings when I’d kissed
Wes.
Not that I’d really spoken to him about it,
but I knew after one look at his face that he’d been aware of what
had happened between Wes and me. The embarrassment had come
flooding back. I’d searched for any sort of jealousy underneath it,
but there’d been none. Thankfully.
“Complications aside, he’s very grateful for
what you did for him,” Fee went on. Something in the pot popped and
simmered against the lid. The smell worsened.
“What are you cooking?” I asked, trying—and
failing—to keep the distaste out of my voice.
She laughed. “It’s not dinner, don’t worry.
I’m brewing some tea for Vera.”
“What kind of tea?”
“It’s my own recipe, mostly medicinal. She’s
been drinking it for a few weeks now, but it’s losing its
effectiveness. I needed a stronger recipe.”
The sight of the ever-present teacup made
sense. I remembered what Mom said about Vera deteriorating. “How is
she?” I asked.
“Not great, not horrible. She hovers at the
in-between a lot.” For a moment, Fee’s mask of careful composure
slipped, and I saw the desperation. “I don’t know what else to do
for her,” she said. Her voice broke.
For once, when it came to Fee, I became the
comforter. I reached out and wrapped my arms around her. She leaned
into the embrace and hugged me back. I felt helpless, like whatever
I could do wouldn’t be nearly enough. For her, for Vera, for
everyone. It made my eyes water, and I blinked it back, wanting to
be strong for them all. What would it do to Fee to lose someone
again so soon after Bailey? To Jack? To all of them?
“Jack’s waiting for you in the back,” she
said, finally pulling away and wiping her eyes. She smiled and it
looked less hollow than before. “Thank you, Tara,” she added.
“You’re welcome.” I left her stirring the
tea and headed outside.
Jack was in the backyard, various sparring
equipment and weapons strewn about the grass. I paused at the
bottom of the steps to take it all in. In all of my time training
with Jack before going to Wood Point, he’d always been so hesitant
about using weapons or equipment. He’d said you never knew what
you’d have at your disposal in a real fight, so better to train
with nothing, and be ready for anything. The scene struck me as
contrary to that philosophy.
“There you are,” he said, dropping a set of
arm pads and coming toward me. “I was beginning to wonder about
you.”
“I got caught up talking to Fee. What’s all
this?”
“That tea stinks to high heaven doesn’t it?”
He didn’t wait for an answer before going on. “This is my defensive
obstacle course,” he said, waving a hand.
Wes appeared from around the side of the
house carrying a white shopping bag. He set it on the ground beside
me and dropped a kiss on my cheek. “Hey, again,” he whispered.
“Hey.” I smiled at him, enjoying the way my
heartbeat sped at the simple “hello,” and returned my attention to
Jack. “What exactly is a defensive obstacle course?”
“It’s a series of stations I’ve set up to
defend myself when you attack,” Jack explained.
“You want me to attack you?”
“Not you, your wolf,” he explained. As if
that made it better.
“Not a great idea.” Nausea rolled in,
settling itself in the pit of my stomach. I looked to Wes for
support. “Remember what happened last time?”
“Don’t worry, we’re prepared,” Wes said. He
pointed at the bag at my feet. “I even brought extra clothes, in
case you shift all the way.”
“This is your idea of teaching me how to
control my wolf?” I asked, eyes wide.
“It’s the quickest way,” Jack said. His tone
changed, becoming deeper, firmer, every inch the strict teacher I
remembered from before. “And it’s not like you left us a lot of
time to help you, so don’t argue with me.”
“Give it a chance,” Wes said. He didn’t look
concerned. I huffed out a breath and followed Jack out into the
mess.
He picked up the arm pads he’d dropped
earlier, slid them on up to his elbows, and faced me. “I’m ready
when you are, kid. Give me your best shot.”
“I don’t know how to shift on command,” I
said. The words came out bitten off; my frustration was peaking.
“If I did, I wouldn’t need you.”
“She needs to feel threatened,” Wes called
from his place against the side of the house.
“Threatened, okay,” Jack said. He closed the
distance between us and jabbed me in the shoulder. The pad he wore
cushioned the impact but it was still enough to drive me back. My
shoulder instantly throbbed.
“What the hell?” I snapped, backing away and
rubbing my arm.
“I’m threatening you,” Jack said. Wes’s
quiet laughter drifted over.
“You act like you’ve never done this
before,” I said, holding my shoulder protectively.
“I haven’t,” he admitted. “By the time they
come to me, they already know what they are.”
His words pricked against my pride. “I know
what I am,” I said. “I’m a Hunter.”
I dropped my hand from my shoulder and
rushed him, spinning into a side kick, heel out. The momentum as it
landed against his hip drove him back a step. He blinked, clearly
surprised. I didn’t wait for him to recover before swinging out
with my fists. They hit the padding more than his flesh. I didn’t
care. I didn’t need to hurt him, only make a point. He took the
first few hits and then backed away, his hands up in surrender.
“All right, calm down. I get it. Bad choice
of words,” he said. “But attacking me that way isn’t going to help
you rein in your wolf.”
“What if I don’t want to rein it in?” I
said. “What if I just want it to go away?” I folded my arms in
front of me, fully expecting his answer to include some form of
lecture about it being a gift and responsibility and how I
shouldn’t be ungrateful. So his response surprised me.
“First, you’ve got to figure out what brings
it out. Then you can make it go away,” he said.
We stared each other down for a long moment.
His methods struck me as completely ridiculous, but he had a point.
I dropped my hands to my sides. “All right. Tell me what to
do.”
An hour passed. Then two.
My wolf never even surfaced, much less took
over. I managed to sustain a few bruises from Jack “defending”
himself a little too well. And I knocked him off balance once, but
that was it. I was frustrated. At this point, I didn’t care whether
my wolf emerged. I wanted to be done. I wanted a hot bath. I wanted
food.
Jack swatted at me and I kicked out. My foot
caught around the back of his knee, making it buckle. He went down
like a toppling tree.
“Ugh,” he grunted as he landed.
The pads around his arms and back made it
hard for him to get up. I reached out a hand, but I wasn’t much
help. He was too heavy to pull up.
Wes laughed, distracting me. I’d forgotten
he was watching. I shielded my eyes from the glaring sun and found
him in the same spot as earlier. He leaned against the house, his
features concealed by the shade of the rooftop. The set of his
shoulders, the way he folded his arms, was completely relaxed. He
was enjoying this.
I scowled and gave up my attempts to help
Jack to his feet. By the time Jack stood, brushed himself off, and
dropped the pads, he was laughing too.
“Are we done?” I demanded.
“For today,” he agreed. “Oh, and clean up
the equipment.”
He clapped Wes on the back and they
disappeared inside, leaving me standing in the middle of the mess.
I looked up when the door slammed shut and caught sight of a face
in the small window. Vera. She retreated and let the blinds fall
back against the sill.
I debated leaving the mess for later and
seeking her out. It felt unfinished between her and me. Like an
interrupted conversation. The sound of footsteps distracted me.
George stepped clear of the woods just as the bond alerted me to
his presence.
“Where’ve you been?” I asked. He wore only
shorts and sneakers, no shirt, no socks. His hair was matted to his
face. “In the woods … alone?”
“Busted.” He smiled. “I was practicing
shifting.”
“Let me guess. No problem, right?” I
snatched up an elbow pad and dropped it into the plastic container.
“How come it’s so easy for you, and so hard for me? Shouldn’t it be
the other way around?”
He shrugged and picked up another pad,
chucked it into the bin. “Maybe you’re overthinking it. Trying too
hard.”
“Trying too hard,” I echoed.
“Just a theory. I take it training with Jack
didn’t go well.”
“I knocked him down. Does that count?”
“Umm …”
“Okay, fine, he sort of tripped.” I tossed
in another pad and flopped down on the steps, my chin in my
hand.