Blood Rule (Book 4, Dirty Blood series) Read online

  He dropped his forehead to mine, and I knew he saw right through my lie. “Where you go, I go,” he said.

  The curve of my mouth deepened toward something more meaningful. I squeezed his hand, caught somewhere between hope and longing for a life I knew I’d never see again.

  The sun dipped behind the trees, casting shadows and making it darker here than it was elsewhere. More was gathering than dusk.

  I shivered.

  Derek looked at his watch, then the darkening sky. “Cambria should’ve been back by—”

  “Here!” She emerged through a break in the trees a few yards away. Through the bond, I sensed Chris hanging back. He was thinking about how much Cord disliked him and he didn’t want to make this moment harder. George stayed with him, both of them watching us from the cover of branches, silent sentries.

  It amazed me how much I’d come to appreciate Chris. But once we’d bonded and he’d fought for me in the clearing against Kane, things between us shifted, though slowly at first. Somehow, I hadn’t realized until now, I trusted him. To keep the pack safe in the woods when I was away. To walk my best friend home amidst possible danger and threat of death. To understand Cord’s anger wasn’t personal and give her the space she needed. I sent him a Thank you through the bond, letting him know I understood what he was doing.

  “Where have you been and why aren’t you on the trail?” Derek asked, meeting Cambria halfway across the yard and pulling her into a hug. He’d been going for stern, but the way he smiled when he held her made it clear his irritation was feigned.

  She kissed his nose and explained, “Chris said it would be good if we created multiple trails between here and camp for when Steppe’s men come.”

  “Which will be soon,” Cord said. “We need to go.”

  Derek ignored her and kissed Cambria on the mouth. “That was a good idea. I missed you.”

  When she smiled at him, the sunshine in her hair was nothing compared to the light in her eyes. “I missed you too.” They kissed again, oblivious to the rest of us.

  It still amazed me, the relationship that had sprung up between them. Cambria hadn’t necessarily been flighty when it came to guys but I’d never seen her this serious for any length. Then again, none of those boys had been Derek. Even I could admit he was hot. And when he wasn’t standoffish and actually decided to be friendly with me, I could see what drew her to him. He wasn’t nearly as serious as he pretended to be. And he loved Cambria, that much was clear from the way he saw past the summer-sunrise hairdo to the person inside.

  I waited for them to break apart, but their kiss deepened. Arms tangled. I was pretty certain they’d forgotten we were all here. And about to go on the lam with a truck bed full of weapons. Or anything else remotely pertaining to reality. Geez.

  After a minute, Jack cleared his throat.

  “We’re burning daylight,” Cord called wryly.

  “And a hell of a lot of calories from the looks of it,” Wes added.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Derek said, finally breaking away enough to formulate words. He slung his arm over Cambria’s shoulder and faced the group, a goofy smile on his lips. He wiggled his eyebrows. “If you’re jealous, Cord, I can give you the same goodbye.”

  Cambria poked him in the ribs and he jumped. Cord rolled her eyes.

  “Okay, this is it,” Fee said. Her shoulders rose and fell with the deep breath she took and let go again. She looked at Cambria, then Cord. “We’ll see you two in a couple days.”

  Cambria hugged her. “Be careful.”

  Jack handed Cord the keys and then folded Cord into a bear hug. She let him go quickly and punched him in the arm. “Try to keep up with your wife, old man. Don’t make me come looking for you guys if you take too long.”

  “Please. I can run circles around both of them. I’ll slow down for Derek, though.”

  “Pssh. Whatever. I have two good legs,” Derek said. He and Cord exchanged a one-armed hug. When their goodbyes were all said and done, Fee turned to Wes.

  He let go of my hand to wrap both of his around her. The way he held her, gentle yet fierce, reminded me of a mother and son. And I knew that although Wes wasn’t her biological son, Fee loved him as completely as my own mother did me.

  “Be careful,” she whispered to him.

  “You too,” he whispered back. “Don’t let Jack overdo it on that leg,” he said before letting her go.

  “I won’t.”

  Jack pretended not to hear. He hated anyone bringing up his injury—or the slight limp he still nursed. Pulling the extra satellite phone from his jacket, Wes handed it to Jack.

  “What’s this?” Jack asked.

  “Compliments of Edie,” Wes said.

  Jack turned it over in his hand once and nodded. “Thanks.”

  “Call us when you get there.”

  “Same to you,” Jack said. His hug was like being enfolded by a peaceful grizzly. I squeezed hard and stepped back quickly. If this took much longer, I was going to cry.

  I hugged Cambria last, swiping underneath my eye to catch the pooling moisture before it could fall. “Be safe,” I said simply.

  “Same.”

  We stared at each other, saying all the things silently that would’ve made us cry to say them aloud.

  “Phones,” Cord said, holding her hand out. The rest of the group handed her their phones and she stuck them in the various pockets of her jacket. “I’ll smash a new one at each rest stop.”

  “Let’s move,” Jack called. He pressed a final kiss to Fee’s lips and then stepped clear. His body shimmered at the edges, going in and out of focus until his entire frame rippled and then disappeared. In its place stood a large wolf with a bag belted around its middle.

  Fee and Derek shifted simultaneously. When they were finished, they each had a bag strapped to their midsection. Wes adjusted the strap for them and then they were ready.

  Cord climbed in and fired up the truck while Cambria took shotgun.

  “Drive careful,” I called.

  Cord looked at me through the open window. “Same to you,” she said. It was more of a goodbye than I’d expected.

  Wes and I stood side by side and waved as the truck rumbled up the path toward the road. When the dust settled, the wolves were already gone.

  “Guess it’s our turn to disappear,” I said.

  “Tara, wait.” Wes pulled me back.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I wanted to tell you thanks.”

  “For what?”

  “When I saw that story about me on the news earlier, it was … overwhelming. I shut down.” He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, there was raw emotion, free of the anger and tension he’d carried since leaving the hospital. “Thank you for taking charge, for getting us out of there. You were amazing. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

  “You’re welcome. It was nice to take care of you for once.”

  He smiled. “I could get used to that.”

  “Mmm, but that would mean you have to back off long enough to let me lead sometimes. Backing off isn’t your strong suit.” I kept my voice light with teasing but we both knew I meant every word as truth.

  “It’s not yours either, but both of us seem to be doing it.”

  “Because Jack and Fee told us to.”

  “And look at both of us taking orders.”

  I laughed. “There’s all kind of progress happening.”

  “It’s been a full day,” he agreed.

  His hand came up to brush my hair from my face and my smile faded as I remembered what came next. “Not quite full yet,” I said. “We still have to disappear.”

  “True.” I watched his gaze flicker toward the house.

  “Do you think we’ll come back?” I asked quietly.

  He didn’t answer for a long moment. Finally, he tore his eyes from the cracked paint and crooked shutters and laid his lips against the tip of my nose. “Even if I don’t ever step foot here
again, I’m already home. You are where my heart is.”

  My breath caught and all I could manage was a faint whisper of the words, “I love you, Wesley St. John.”

  “I love you too, Tara Godfrey. With every piece of me, animal and human, until there are no more pieces left.”

  When his mouth met mine, somehow I managed to shut out the pack, the future, and anything else that could’ve possibly mattered more than the feel of his lips and this moment.

  By the time he let me go, my fingertips tingled and I felt full. Of energy, of courage. Of whatever I might need to face whatever came next.

  Behind Wes, I could see George and Chris waiting for us at the tree line. Their expressions were tight, their thoughts surprisingly silent as they soaked in my determination.

  “Let’s go get the pack,” I said.

  “Lead the way.”

  ***

  The pack was like a thread of tension wound tight. Earlier, Chris and George had delegated the responsibility of disassembling tents and coverings but I could see a few areas where the owner of the tent had either gotten distracted or given up—due to either stress or the fact that they couldn’t shift to a form with opposable thumbs—and left the contents of their “home” in a heap on the ground.

  Chris wasn’t happy with the mess. He hurried around, nudging and in some cases nipping, in order to get the tent owner to pack properly. The rest of them gathered around Wes, George, and me the moment we entered camp, pressing against us in a tight circle and shouting questions.

  I couldn’t understand their shouted words any more than I could sift through the noise in my head. Demands for a destination, why we were leaving, how soon we would become hunted all blurred together in a rush of syllables. George and Wes both fussed at them to back off, to no avail.

  I squeezed my eyes shut against the headache already building. When I spoke, the alpha in me rose to the surface. The power of it permeated the one word. “Quiet!”

  They fell silent and stepped back, paws brushing restlessly at the dirt. I needed to shift, if for no other reason than to get a handle on the noise in my head.

  George read the thought before I could say it aloud. He shoved backward with his arms, knocking wolves aside. “Move,” he said roughly. “Back up. Let her through. She needs to shift. Then she can talk to you.”

  “Thanks,” I said gratefully and slipped through an opening. I ducked behind a stand of trees and stripped, too hurried to care whether I was fully hidden from view. Another inch of modesty gone.

  My wolf strained against the confines of my human flesh. It wanted out. I let it.

  My form rippled and shimmered, like a shiver set on repeat. My bones stretched and popped. Fingers shrank inside themselves, ears elongated. My shiver turned to a convulsion.

  When it stopped, I was a Werewolf. Four paws on the ground, tail swishing. The air tickled my nose and I stilled at the scent. Something new traveled on the sluggish breeze.

  Something … not of my pack.

  I froze, one paw halfway around the tree.

  I sniffed again.

  Wes, his Werewolf coat a ruddy brown that always made me think of dirt and oak trees, was there in an instant. He’d shifted because I’d shifted. I loved him for doing things like that.

  We didn’t speak as we let the new smell wash over us. I opened my mouth, letting it fill my sensory receptors. It tasted wrong. Like danger.

  George …

  He didn’t even pull his shorts off before shifting. I heard the rip of fabric—a clean break—as he changed from boy to wolf in less than a blink. The smell hit his awareness.

  Shit.

  I didn’t know whether the word came from me, George, or some other pack member. It didn’t matter who thought it, we all echoed the sentiment. I had just enough time to formulate the thought spread out before movement in the trees stopped all other conscious thought and my reflexes kicked in.

  Faces flashed as the intruders darted in and out of forest cover. It took me a moment to realize they were Werewolf features; I was so caught up in the familiarity of being in this form. I caught another flash—a face. Furry. Pointed ears. Yellow eyes.

  Glowing eyes.

  Hybrids. Not mine.

  I growled out of animosity toward this unknown threat and confusion. These were clearly hybrids, not part of my bonded pack. And while they hadn’t attacked yet, I could sense their intentions clearly enough.

  Was this the reason for my headache? And I’d been too human in that moment to realize?

  They advanced again, a few coming clear of the brush they’d hid behind. Their ears were flattened against their head and their lips were pulled back, revealing spindly teeth. But the real conviction was in their eyes. I didn’t need animal instinct to tell me they meant harm.

  Their coats were mangy and rough, matted in places and patchy or missing in others. Some had scars or still-healing wounds visible. All of them seemed more dangerous for what I could only assume were battle scars. I scanned, trying to identify one as the leader.

  If I could take out the leader, the rest might give up.

  But they all seemed equal, not deferring to anyone in particular. The way they walked in a parallel line, with none more forward than the others, confused me. I pawed the ground, impatient. The animal in me didn’t like watching an enemy advance while I stood here.

  As if an audible order had been given, Wes, George, and Chris appeared around me. The rest of the pack hesitated, wanting to do the same. To protect me. It made me snap the order a second time: spread out!

  If we all huddled together, we would be too easy a mark. I tried to make them see that with my thoughts. Most of them got it. Didn’t mean they liked it. I registered George’s stubborn rejection of the idea the moment I thought it. He and Chris both shook their heads. They weren’t going to leave me alone.

  Beside me, Wes growled and pawed the dirt. He looked as impatient as me, if not more. “They’re hybrids,” he said between clenched teeth.

  “But they’re not friendly,” Chris added. He didn’t take his eyes off the hybrid closest to him.

  They were about ten yards away now, still advancing as one.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” I called. It was hard to talk over the growl in my throat. My wolf wanted to be in charge—and it wanted to do more than talk.

  “Doesn’t matter who we are,” said the one approaching Chris.

  “We’re here for your pack,” said another, farther back in the trees.

  “They will come with us,” said a third.

  “And if they don’t?” Wes called.

  The Werewolf that spoke first honed in on Wes, his yellow eyes piercing and full of malice. “They will end up like you.”

  Wes growled and lurched forward before catching himself. I knew the only thing stopping him was his refusal to leave my side.

  “What is your quarrel with us?” I asked.

  “Not ours. His.” The hybrid who’d spoken earlier emerged from the trees and I saw it wasn’t alone.

  Nor was its companion a wolf.

  The man smiled and his eyes creased with crow’s feet at the corners. “Jasper’s correct,” the man said. “The quarrel is absolutely mine.”

  I couldn’t think past my confusion of how it was possible that Gordon Steppe could be here and leading his vote simultaneously. Or how he’d found these rogue hybrids—we’d been searching and searching and all along he had them!—and made them follow him.

  “But the vote is happening now,” I said, dumbstruck.

  “The vote is over. The treaty is void.”

  I didn’t even realize how close he’d come until George and Chris pressed forward, jaws snapping. Steppe paused where he was but didn’t look particularly nervous.

  I was reeling, trying to put missing pieces together. Had Grandma gotten the timeline wrong?

  “What’s the matter? Did Edie not give you enough time to run?”

  He was taunting us. He’d fed G
randma wrong information on purpose. Did he know she was working against him? Was she in danger? I had to warn her.

  The bond hummed with voices. Yelps. Curses. Pleas for permission to attack.

  My jaw ached with the collective desire to bite one of these rogue wolves.

  “Tara,” Wes said. The warning—and threat—in that one word was clear.

  I might’ve been distracted, but he wasn’t. I didn’t need a bond to tell me how badly Wes wanted to go for Steppe’s throat. I figured I had about three seconds of conversation left before it happened.

  “We haven’t hurt anyone,” I said.

  More yellow-eyed, un-bonded hybrids trickled into the clearing. My pack—at my mental prompting—spread further out. I wanted the enemy surrounded. I didn’t care if that left the four of us in the center of things. My jaw ached harder.

  The tension pulled tighter. On both sides.

  “That no longer matters. The treaty is void. There is no amnesty for any reason—for any Werewolf. The amendment states I can hunt and kill any Werewolf I see.”

  “I don’t believe you,” I said stubbornly. I knew it was a long shot but maybe he was bluffing.

  He held out a stack of white papers rolled tightly in his hands and tossed them to the ground between us. “Read it for yourself,” he said with a smile bordering on a sneer.

  My heart sank. Yeah, Gordon Steppe didn’t bluff.

  “And your friends?” I said, gesturing to the glowing-eyed wolves spread around the trees.

  “They are merely a tool, my tool. A means to an end.” He pointed toward the pile of papers on the ground. “A legal end, I might add.”

  “And so you’re asking what? For us to surrender?” George asked.

  “I’m asking for the hybrids to surrender. You, Miss Godfrey, and Mr. St. John do not have that option. Your crimes are beyond surrender. I’ve already chosen each of your fates.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, though I already knew.

  “We haven’t done anyth—” George began.

  Time was up.

  I sensed the change happening but I wasn’t sure my thoughts were quick enough to warn the rest.

  It was amazing how they attacked as one without a single word spoken between them. Almost as if they had a mental connection of their own.