Page 41 of Dirty Blood


  “What the hell is going on?” Wes demanded, glaring past me at Miles.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  His gaze flickered to me and then around to the rest of the faces. He pushed past me and stepped up to Miles. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Leo took Tara’s mother. I’m helping Tara find her,” Miles answered evenly.

  “She’s not going with you,” said Wes. Without waiting for an answer, he rounded on Derek and Cord. “Where’s Jack?”

  “In the weapons room,” Derek answered, eyeing Wes warily. Cord just looked bored.

  Wes stalked off in search of Jack. I stood in the open doorway, staring after him, trying to figure out what to do next.

  Cord and Derek shot me a glance and then went back to their planning. Miles was still holding the door open, watching me expectantly. Raised voices were coming from the weapons room.

  “Um, I guess we should wait,” I said, stepping back into the entryway.

  Miles just nodded and closed the door, leaning down so that his mouth was closer to my ear than it needed to be. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

  As soon as he disappeared around the corner, the door at the end of the hall opened and Wes came out, his face grim but determined. He stopped in front of me, his gaze searching my face, and his expression softened slightly.

  “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.

  “I guess,” I answered.

  He turned back to Jack who’d come up behind him and began talking about strategy and weapons. My head cleared enough to remember why we were here and why Wes wasn’t here until a moment ago.

  “… So she’ll need some way to protect herself,” Wes said.

  “I know, I just haven’t had time to train her on the metal tips,” Jack said.

  “Well, give her something,” Wes said impatiently. “We need to get going.”

  “Wait a minute,” I interrupted. “You think I’m going with you?”

  Behind us, the rest of the group fell silent, watching our exchange.

  “Of course,” he said.

  I shook my head. “Unbelievable. Of course you do. Well, sorry to disappoint, but you missed the pairing off, and I’m going with Miles.”

  Miles, who’d wandered back in from the kitchen at the sound of our voices, raised his eyebrows but didn’t contradict me.

  Wes stared at me. “Tara—”

  “Don’t.” I made my voice as cold as possible and glared at him for as long as I could, without letting myself be sucked in. Then I turned to Jack. “Miles has weapons stashed in his trunk. We’re leaving, but we’ll check in soon.”

  Jack nodded slowly. “Fine, but Miles, I haven’t trained her on the silver tips yet, so don’t give her those.”

  “That’s all I have,” Miles admitted.

  “I have something else.” Jack crossed to the bookshelf and pushed a small black button I’d never noticed before. When he did, the bookshelf slid aside with a wooden groan, revealing what looked like a large walk-in closet. He flipped a switch and the space lit up. Rows of weapons lined the wall, covering every inch of space. Long wooden stakes with gleaming metal tips and crossbows were mixed in with rifles and handguns of all shapes and sizes. Jack grabbed a small handgun and two plain, rough stakes and handed them to me. “Take these.”

  I took the stakes and stuffed them into my boots like I’d seen Cord do. I hesitated over the gun. “I don’t know about that.”

  “Take it,” Jack said. “It’s probably not enough to make a kill, but it’ll slow them down long enough to get a stake in the right place.”

  I looked over at Miles, still unconvinced. I’d never even held a gun before, much less fired one.

  Miles nodded at me. “I’ll show you how to use it.”

  I took the gun from Jack’s outstretched hand. It felt lighter than I’d expected and ice cold against my clammy palm. I held it, feeling awkward, careful to keep my fingers far away from the trigger.

  “Safety’s on,” Jack said. “Here. Extra magazines.” He handed those to Miles, who slid them into his inner pocket.

  “Ready, then?” Miles asked me. I nodded and turned to go, avoiding Wes’s burning gaze.

  “Check in every hour,” Jack added.

  “Tara,” Wes began, stepping forward. “I’m sorry. I just want to help.”

  “Feel free,” I said, without stopping on my way to the door. “Call if you find anything.”

  “Tara, just listen—” he began.

  “No, you listen,” I said, whirling on him angrily. “I tried to call you. Before, when it first happened. You were the first person I thought of. So I called you, freaking out. But you didn’t answer. Because you thought it was best for me if you stayed away. And don’t say you were protecting me—I am so sick of everyone saying that, without any regard for what I want.” I turned so that my angry stare briefly included Jack, for his part. “So, until I get an equal say, stay away from me. I don’t need your idea of protection. Miles will do just fine.”

  Wes listened in stony silence, giving no reaction—until I mentioned Miles. Then, his expression darkened and something flashed in his eyes. “Don’t go with him,” he said, in a low voice.

  I felt myself hesitating. I wrenched my gaze from his, before I changed my mind. “Let’s go, Miles,” I said.

  ~ 32 ~

 
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