Blood Rule (Book 4, Dirty Blood series) Page 4

  I glanced over, checking my progress against George’s. He was still two lengths ahead. Time to stop messing around.

  I caught up to George a second before leaping the creek. It was narrow enough here to jump, but only in this spot. To the right and left, the bed widened and the water deepened. It served as an effective barrier between the hybrid camp and the rest of the world. So far.

  I brushed George’s shoulder with mine as I left the ground, letting him know I was passing him, and then used my last push of momentum to accelerate the last few steps. When my paws crossed out of the brush of the creek bed and onto dry, packed dirt that signaled the outskirts of camp, I snorted in triumph.

  George let out a long growl that became a hoarse laugh as he shifted back to his human form.

  From behind an over-sized oak, he pulled a pair of shorts from the stack of thrift store findings kept for this reason. I stepped off the path on the opposite side and shifted and redressed. This part of shifting was a constant annoyance for me. Not just because of the hassle of needing clothes at all times, but because I knew in an emergency, the wasted moments could cost me something huge. The logistics of turning from human to animal were inconvenient at times. Still, it was also sort of magical.

  “You cheated,” I said as I stepped back onto the path.

  “You won,” George shot back.

  He ran a hand through his blond hair, smoothing it down, and fell into step beside me. I loved how easy-going George was. Even through all his competitiveness, he was never angry at losing—even to a girl. He liked the thrill of it. That part was easy to read through our bond but also in his demeanor. It was moments like these that gave me peace about all I’d put him through. He was a wolf because of me. We were bonded because of me. He spent his days babysitting hybrids, balancing the lies to his family and the rest of the world—all because of me. And he was happy.

  “You still cheated,” I argued.

  “Why does it matter if you won?”

  “A matter of principle.”

  He rolled his eyes. “One of these days I’m going to be faster than you.”

  I laughed. “Today’s not that day.”

  George’s response was cut short by the sound of a snarl and something breaking. George and I exchanged a look and then hurried toward it. It wasn’t until we’d weaved around half a dozen tents that I saw what was happening.

  Two Werewolves were going at it. Yellow eyes narrowed, paws swiping, teeth bared. Between blows and attempted bites, both of their jaws hung open as they panted. One had a scrape above his left eye that was deep enough to leave a line of red above his brow. Both were caked in dirt. It looked as if they’d been at it a while.

  The crowd gathered—some humans, most wolves—yelled and jeered and encouraged the fighters to continue their scrapping.

  I shoved my way to the center, George close behind me. The noise of the crowd died off as they caught sight of me. The wolves in the center continued to snap their teeth at each other’s throats. They were too involved with each other to notice me.

  “Knock it off,” I commanded.

  Neither one obeyed. I stepped toward them, ready to slide between them and dare them to try it with me in the way. As I moved closer, I sensed hesitation rather than saw it. The wolf facing me caught himself and paused in his attack. I knew him and more importantly, he knew me. I was his alpha and he wouldn’t challenge me no matter what the fight had been about.

  But the wolf behind me didn’t stop. I realized I had no reading on him. And while I knew his face—all too well after our previous altercations— there was no voice in my head to match.

  “Nick?”

  He didn’t respond. Out loud or in my head. Were he and I no longer mentally connected? Wasn’t that impossible?

  I became sure of the loss the moment his teeth closed over my wrist.

  “Ow!” I yanked my hand away and turned to fully face him, glaring, but Nick didn’t back down. He glared back and bared his teeth, looking ready to come again.

  My wound burned, although nothing like it would’ve had my Hunter blood not been mixed with so much Werewolf blood. A bite like this could kill a normal Hunter. Luckily, I wasn’t normal.

  “Stand down,” I demanded.

  Nick hesitated but I sensed his intention. The bond was there, just … different.

  Darker. Silent. Irrational. No wonder I couldn’t hear his thoughts. He wasn’t having any that were decipherable.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the crowd back up. Based on the feelings coming through the bond, they were all giving me extra room to kick ass. Good. I was mad enough to do it with the burning in my wrist.

  Nick took a step forward.

  “You don’t want to do that,” George warned. He took a step toward us as if to intercede, but my temper wouldn’t allow it.

  “George, move,” I said. Maybe it was something in my tone, but he didn’t argue.

  I called my wolf to the surface. It was so close already, shifting took no time. With a small ripping sound, my clothes shredded and fell around me. I leaned in as my limbs extended here, retracted there. I landed on four paws.

  Nick growled.

  The look in his eyes seemed wilder, almost feral. No specific thoughts penetrated but there was a mood. A dark cloud of fury. I took a step toward him, my gaze intent. No matter what was happening with the bond or to him, I had to let him know who was boss around here.

  “Why were you fighting?” I asked.

  No answer.

  “It’s the second time today. Tell me why.”

  Nick’s shoulders straightened and he raised his snout. “Curtis was running his mouth.”

  “That is not a good reason to attack someone.”

  “It is for me.”

  My temper spiked. “You’re not in charge. I’m alpha here. You will obey me.”

  Instead of backing down, Nick stood tall, a glint in his eyes. I’d seen this look on him before. Nick was stubborn. He was one of the hybrids I worried about. There was a darkness in him, something below the surface that didn’t seem quite human. Right now, the darkness was thick and close. It clouded my thoughts. Made my temper worse.

  “You thinking about doing something stupid, Nick?” My normally growly voice was silky with the threat behind them. Even with the unpredictable side of him underneath, I wasn’t scared of Nick. I’d fought worse. Much, much worse. “Because you look like you’re thinking about challenging your alpha and that would be very, very stupid.”

  The pack pressed into the corners of my mind at the new conflict unfolding. George hovered nearby, worried for me, where the rest of them seemed much more concerned for Nick. They had no doubt their alpha would rip him to pieces.

  “I’m exercising my right to have an opinion. And enforce it when someone doesn’t listen,” Nick said.

  He was choosing his words carefully. He wanted to challenge me but he was wary of how to go about it. Something dark and lethal shifted inside him. No, I was wrong. He didn’t want to challenge me so much as pick a fight. With anyone. Nick wanted to taste blood. It no longer mattered whose.

  This was my fear with the hybrids.

  The reason I checked on them, babysat them, kept them hidden in the woods. There was something dark and ugly inside them. Some kept it farther from the surface than others, but all of them had it. Even George. The thirst, the longing for blood. Not only to spill it but to taste it.

  Nick’s thirst was overwhelming now. I could feel it in my head. I could see it in his eyes. He couldn’t fight it any longer. He’d decided he didn’t want to.

  With mouth open, jaws flexed, he leaped.

  All I could think was, this is why Alex hates us.

  Despite Nick’s craving for a fight, or maybe because of it, he was sloppy. He plowed into me, grazing my left shoulder with his teeth. I caught my balance quickly and knocked him aside with my paw. He stumbled and I tackled him to the dirt. He writhed underneath me, bucking and snapping his te
eth, aiming for my throat.

  I bit him below his shoulder. Still, he fought against me. I clamped harder and my teeth broke flesh. The bitter taste of blood coated my mouth but all it did was enrage him further. He managed to get his rear paws underneath me and kicked me. My teeth ripped free, pulling fur and flesh with it and leaving a gaping hole where I’d bitten. I yelped and rolled to my feet. His agony echoed through my mind, stunning me.

  It was such a warring emotion. I was connected to him, to all of them, and the alpha in me wanted only to protect. Their pain was my pain. Yet here I was being the one to cause it.

  I howled. Dammit, it hurt.

  George’s wave of concern increased. I tried sending him the message, I got this.

  Nick scrambled to his feet and came at me again. But he was even slower than before and the pain distracted him. My teeth caught him around the throat. I applied pressure and then stopped when his vein pulsed against my teeth. If I bit now…

  Nick growled. It reverberated in my open mouth. The bond flared with decision as he gave in to the darkness. There was no more Nick. Only thirst.

  “You taste my blood or I’ll taste yours,” he said. The words were a growled whisper. A promise. If not now, then later.

  I bit down.

  In seconds, it was over. Nick’s heart tripped over a beat and then stopped.

  Blood was everywhere. It ran in rivers down the sides of my jaw and dripped onto the ground. It coated my tongue. It matted Nick’s fur. Even after I spit and chewed grass, I tasted the bitter tang left behind.

  At George’s instruction, Nick was removed from camp and some of the pack left to prepare a burial plot. I didn’t argue or add any instruction and no one approached me.

  After the crowd dispersed, I slipped into the trees, grateful to be alone. I found clothes stashed behind a tree and sat, too numb to care about shifting back. Things like this—raw emotion—were always easier as a wolf.

  The weight of the loss, of my part in it, pressed against the space between my ribs. My pack. He was my pack and I’d lost him. It needed to be done, but that didn’t take away from the loss. Forty-five.

  Now there were forty-five.

  I wasn’t sure how long I sat that way, but when George found me, I was still sitting in the same spot. At some point, I’d shifted back to two legs. I couldn’t even remember when I’d done it. His presence triggered me to look down. At least I had clothes on.

  “What happened back there?” he asked, sitting next to me, cross-legged.

  “Nick …” I wasn’t sure how to finish. “He just—he gave into it.” My voice broke. I stared into the trees in the direction they’d taken Nick.

  “He didn’t shift back, did he?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Alex told me once you only shift back if you have your humanity left.” I sniffled. The first tear fell.

  George was quiet for a few moments, probably giving me time to collect myself. There weren’t enough hours left today for that to happen but I didn’t say that. A pair of wolves, Emma and Janie, approached. I could hear them through the bond, their concern and uncertainty at coming too close, but they wanted to help.

  George turned to them. “Is Chris back yet?”

  “No,” Emma said.

  “Find him,” George told her. “And get Wes.”

  The girls said they would and bounded off, relieved at having something useful to do. They were of the more humane variety of rescued hybrids. I didn’t mind their voices in my head, although their teenaged hormones sometimes got on my nerves. Janie didn’t like that her manicures were always ruined by shifting. Both of them stared at George a lot.

  I continued to sit.

  After a while, the sun dipped behind the trees, throwing shadows over everything. Through the bond, George searched my feelings, testing my mood. At first, I was too numb to give him much. When that gave way, I worried more than anything. Worry that it would happen again. That darkness would surface in someone else and I’d be forced to put them down. Or worse, that they’d hurt someone else—a human—before I could stop them.

  Despite our remote location, it wasn’t more than a short run to the edges of town. And there were too many of them to keep tabs on all day, every day. Even with the bond, one could slip through my awareness so easily.

  “They’re like a ticking bomb, George,” I said quietly. My voice sounded rough and scratchy after sitting so long in silence.

  “I know. But they have us. You and me and Chris.”

  Right now, that didn’t seem like enough. I nodded anyway.

  “They still have their humanity,” he said, following my thoughts.

  “As much as can be expected.”

  “They’re going to be fine.”

  I couldn’t help but be skeptical. Nick had hung on to his for a while too. Until he couldn’t anymore.

  “You’re doing the best you can,” George said. “You’re doing more than CHAS would.”

  That knowledge darkened my mood. CHAS. Steppe. If he knew how tenuous the hybrids’ hold on themselves was, he’d eradicate every one of them. He already wanted to. He just needed opportunity. I was determined not to give him one.

  “Screw Steppe,” I muttered.

  “Damn right,” said someone behind me.

  “Chris,” I said, relieved to see him in a way that surprised me.

  I’d come to rely on him these past few weeks. Our attachment at first had been largely due to the bond and then him protecting me against Kane’s strike team in the woods that day. Still, I would’ve expected more animosity on my part considering he’d tried to kill me before all that. But now, there was a solid friendship between us, and more than that. There was trust.

  “How are you?” He sat in front of me and looked into my eyes, searching for whatever answer I might not give aloud.

  “I’m … I’ll be okay,” I said finally, knowing it would be no use to lie. I swallowed. “There was a lot of blood.”

  His eyes were full of understanding. “You did what you had to do,” he said.

  A branch crunched nearby. All three of us jerked toward the sound, ready to leap up.

  “Calm down. It’s me,” Wes said.

  We all relaxed.

  I’d been so involved in using the bond to communicate with George and Chris, I’d almost missed Wes. He was in human form, his auburn hair and browned skin blending with the trees so perfectly it was easy to overlook him in the gathering dusk. He watched me with tenderness and concern and even without a bond, I knew he sensed my distress.

  He sat down on my other side, cupping my cheek with his hand and turning my face toward his. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Define the word.”

  He nodded, his expression hard where his eyes were soft. “Emma told me what happened. Are you hurt?”

  “No, I’m fine.”

  His eyes caught on my wrist. “You’re bleeding.”

  I held it up, inspecting the place where Nick had bit me. It wasn’t deep, but it was healing slower since I’d shifted back. A thin line of dried blood coated the wound. “It looks worse than it is. It’s just a scratch,” I said.

  He looked at Chris. “Is she in pain?”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’m right here,” I said.

  They both ignored me. Chris shared a look with George. They probed my mind, like little fingers massaging the answers out. Eventually, they turned back to Wes. “No,” Chris said. “She’s fine.”

  Wes nodded. “Good. In that case, I’m going to make out with my girlfriend until she’s better. You guys staying or …?” He lifted a brow.

  I couldn’t help but smile at the expression Chris wore, like he couldn’t figure out if Wes was serious.

  “C’mon, dude,” George said. “Walk with me.” He rose and pulled Chris up with him.

  “Nick—” I began.

  “Is handled,” George said. “I’ll fill him in.”

  “Much better,” Wes said when we were alone. He lea
ned in and kissed my temple.

  I scooted closer as he brought one hand up to rest on my cheek. I found the other with my own and curled my fingers around his.

  I didn’t feel much like making out, but Wes didn’t even try. Instead, he pressed light kisses to my forehead, cheek, neck … everywhere but my mouth. In between, he stroked my hair. “Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispered.

  I leaned in, soaking up the comfort.

  “Wes …” I wanted to thank him for being here, for always knowing the right thing to say, but my voice wouldn’t work without the accompaniment of tears.

  “Let’s give it a minute,” he said. “Take a breath.”

  I nodded against his shirt.

  After several deep breaths, he smoothed my hair, pulled me into his lap, and planted a kiss on the edge of my nose. “Tell me what happened,” he said.

  I gave him the full replay in broken sentences and stumbled-over words. But I managed to remain tear free. “If I hadn’t put him down, he would’ve come after me and he wouldn’t have stopped,” I finished.

  “You did the right thing. You had to protect yourself. And the others. He could’ve hurt one of them too.”

  “I know. But it’s still hard. I experience everything they do. Hunger, pain, all of it.”

  “It would hurt more if you’d let it go and he’d done his damage elsewhere.”

  He was right. That didn’t make the loss any easier. “I’m worried about the rest of them. If it happened once, it can happen again.”

  Wes didn’t argue. I suspected he was thinking the same thing but didn’t want to voice it. “You did the right thing,” he assured me.

  I leaned against him. I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. “Have you heard from Derek or Cord? How’s their trip going?”