Dirty Blood

The sky was beginning to lighten around the edges. A hint of pink lined the horizon, just barely showing through the treetops that were visible through the second-story window opposite my bed. That was what I saw first when my eyes opened, and I knew I was back in the spare room at Fee’s. Apparently, this room was now reserved for nursing Tara back to health. Nearby, a chair scraped against the floor, and I craned my neck. My mother leaned forward. Our eyes met, and she gave me a tentative smile.

  “Hey,” she said, brushing my hair back from my face.

  “Hey.” My throat felt like the Sahara. She held a straw to my lips, and I sucked water in through dry lips.

  She set the empty glass aside. “How are you feeling?”

  “Alive,” I said with undeniable relief.

  She nodded. “It was touchy. For a while, I wasn’t sure ...”

  I didn’t answer. I couldn’t reassure her, even now, when I hadn’t been sure, either. “And Jack?” Panic twisted in my chest.

  “Alive.” She hesitated, then said, “It was a bad wound, though, Tara. He’s going to have a long recovery, and he probably won’t ever be able to move like he used to. The bullet tore a lot of muscle and metal isn’t easy to heal from.”

  I nodded, still relieved more than anything else. If Jack had died from a bullet meant for me … “Fee’s pretty amazing,” I said.

  “She is. But then again, so are you.” She shifted in her chair. “Which is why I want to apologize.”

  My eyebrows shot up, but I didn’t interrupt.

  “I gave myself up to Leo because I thought it would protect you.” She took a deep breath, and let it out. Her cheeks reddened. “Obviously, it wasn’t my best idea. But, I should’ve given you more credit. In the end, you saved yourself. You’re not helpless, and I’m going to try to stop treating you like you are.”

  “The operative word here is ‘try,’ isn’t it?”

  “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

  “Right.”

  “But, I am still your mother, and things are going to change. I need to know where you are, at all times.”

  “How’s that different from before?” I joked. She didn’t smile, and I felt a hard knot form in my empty stomach.

  “This isn’t over, Tara. We know it was Miles who shot Jack, and we know it was meant for you. Jack told us,” she explained when I looked back at her questioningly. She twisted her fingers together and looked away, out the window. “There’s a school just a couple of hours from here. It’s for Hunters, and it’s well protected.”

  “You’re sending me away?”

  “Your grandmother and I agree that it’s the best place for you right now, at least until we can resolve the … situation.”

  “Do I have a choice?” I asked through clenched teeth.

  “Don’t think of it as me forcing you. Think of it as a chance to learn from the best. Wood Point Academy has the best instructors available. You could continue your training and be around other Hunters.”

  “But I’m not just a Hunter, remember?”

  Her jaw hardened. I knew she was waiting for me to call myself Dirty Blood, and I knew she’d lose it if I did. She rose and paced in front of my bed, wrapping her hands around herself as she moved. “Either way, you need proper training,” she said. She stopped and looked at me. “What were you thinking, using that metal rod against Leo, anyway?”

  I shrugged, a little confused. “It was all I had. My stakes were gone.”

  “Well, you got lucky. Your new trainers will show you how to properly use metal against Werewolves.”

  “Jack’s my trainer,” I said, stubbornly. What was the big deal with metal, anyway?

  “Jack’s going to be out of commission for a while. Maybe permanently. Grandma pulled strings to get you in, and it’s the safest place for you right now. I won’t deny I made a mistake with Leo, but I also won’t let you talk me out of making it right.”

  My shoulders sagged. I knew her mind was made up. Between her and Grandma, I didn’t stand a chance of talking my way out of this. “Grandma.” Suddenly, I felt selfish for taking so long to remember her. “She’s okay, right?”

  “She’s fine. She’s at our house, making arrangements to send her people home.”

  “How long is she staying?” I asked.

  “Until she leaves.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means, she hasn’t told me yet,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if she settles in for a while. She’s pretty excited that I’m going to let you train.”

  I knew Grandma must be excited if she was going to stay with us. She and my mother usually had a fifteen-minute maximum on civility while in the same room. “I can’t believe she’s a Hunter, too. I mean, she really knew what she was doing. She was pretty scary.”

  My mom laughed, and I closed my eyes and just let myself enjoy the simple sound of it. Who knew I’d ever feel this overwhelmingly happy to hear my mother laugh? Especially when I was technically mad at her, all over again. But even being angry at her didn’t diminish my happiness and utter relief that she’d made it out of all this unharmed.

  “Tara? You okay?”

  When I opened my eyes, she was staring down at me, her brows knitted together.

  “I’m fine, Mom. Just glad everyone’s okay. Glad you’re okay,” I said. “And I’m sorry about fighting with you before …”

  She smiled, big enough to let me know that we didn’t need to go there. She reached out and took my hand, squeezing it. “Me, too. And I really think you’ll like Wood Point. Everyone there is a Hunter, too, so you don’t have to pretend, not like you do here. You’ll make friends and meet new people.”

  There was a specific gleam in her eye that made me wonder if she wanted me to forget all the friends I had, or just a specific one. I cleared my throat, almost afraid to ask. “So, have you seen Wes? Is he here?”

  She nodded, pressing her lips together in a tight frown. “He’s been here the entire time. I just kicked him out a few minutes ago to get cleaned up. The shower’s been a highly coveted space for the past couple of hours.” She paused and then said, “Do you want to see him?”

  I ignored her reaction and her tone, both of which made it obvious that she wanted me to say no. “Yes.” I sighed, unsure of what I would even say to him. But I did remember how he’d held me in his arms the entire way home. If my skin hadn’t burned so badly, it probably would’ve felt nice. Okay, better than nice.

  “I’ll send him in,” she said, leaning over and dropping a kiss on my forehead.

  “Mom,” I called, when she reached the door. I waited until she turned. “I love you.”

  She smiled. “Love you, too, honey. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  The door clicked shut behind her, and I settled back against the pillow, amazed at how tired I still felt, even after being unconscious most of the night. You’d think blacking out would give your body the ultimate rest, but apparently not. My phone beeped, and I rolled over, trying to find it underneath all the blankets. I lifted the covers and realized all I wore was a nightgown—no pockets. The sound continued. I eyed my jacket. It was draped over the chair a few feet away. The phone was in my pocket, and no way could I reach it from here. I sat up slowly, feeling dizzy from the small exertion. A stiff pain shot up my spine, making it throb. Even my arms protested against the use of muscle. Ugh. I felt … hung over.

  My phone beeped again. I sighed. I pulled the covers back to my waist and eased toward my jacket. I managed to snag the edge of it and pull. As I did, my phone fell out of the pocket and thudded onto the floor. I eyed it viciously, debating on how badly I really wanted it.

  The door swung open. Wes poked his head in. “You’re awake.”

  I’d never heard so much relief uttered in two words before. He came in and closed the door with a click. I felt a pull to go to him that was so strong, it took my breath away. I watched his face as he lowered himself into the chair beside me. H
is eyes were bloodshot and exhausted, his jaw tight with tension. His hair was still wet from the shower and dripped onto the back of his plain white shirt. He smelled like rain-drenched woods. I forgot all about my beeping phone, along with anything else that might divert my attention.

  He eyed me with scrutiny, like he didn’t yet believe that I was going to recover. His gaze flickered from my face back to the gauze on my neck. I waited for him to say something. Instead, he held out a cup, half full of a mysterious green liquid.

  “What’s this?” I smelled it hesitantly and made a face. “It smells like old cheese.”

  He gave me a look like he agreed. “Fee sent it for you. It’ll boost your energy. And keep you from needing any more morphine. Drink up.”

  He paused, obviously waiting for me to comply. I held my breath and threw my head back, taking the contents in one shot and trying not to let it hit my taste buds. At least I wasn’t dopey like the last time.

  “Ugh,” I muttered, handing the empty cup back to him.

  He smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I can see you’re feeling more like yourself every minute.” His amusement faded, and his brow creased. “How are you feeling?”

  “My neck still hurts, and I’m sorer than a week’s worth of training with Jack, but I think I’m okay. Mom says I will be, anyway.” At the mention of Jack, Wes’s expression clouded further. “How is he? Mom said it was pretty bad.”

  “Fee’s still with him, doing what she can, but he’s not great. Punctured a lung. Some of the damage was irreversible. She says he’s going to have a long recovery.”

  I shuddered, remembering the sight of him on the ground next to me, bloody and struggling to breathe. “I thought—I mean, I was really scared for him,” I whispered.

  Wes leaned forward, his expression a mixture of sadness and longing. “I was really scared for you,” he admitted. “When we found you, with Leo … I only left you because Jack seemed worse. Your mom said all you had were scratches, so I …” He trailed off and squeezed his eyes shut.

  I lifted my hand to my face tentatively. I’d completely forgotten about the scratches. I traced my cheekbone, feeling raised welts and rough scabs, and wondered if it looked as bad as it felt.

  “They’ll heal in another day or two,” he said. I nodded, and caught sight of gauze wrapped around my wrist. “We almost didn’t see that one. It wasn’t nearly as bad as your neck, but it needed treatment and Fee almost missed it. Bailey was the one to notice it, actually.”

  “Tell him thanks,” I said, feeling awkward. The way he was speaking, his tone, all of it was… not cold, but not like him. Distant. “And Derek? How is he? You said he got hurt.”

  He gave me an odd look. “You remember that?” I nodded. “I wasn’t sure if you could hear me.”

  “I could hear just fine. It was responding that got complicated.”

  He didn’t reply. The silence was uncomfortable, like there wasn’t really anything left to talk about, except … us.

  “So, what now?” I asked, my fingers fidgeting with the edge of my blanket.

  “Now we find Miles.”

  His answer didn’t surprise me, but I felt a sinking disappointment, anyway. It was always about the business end first. “Mom said Jack told you about the bullet being meant for me,” was all I said.

  “Yeah.” He ran a hand through his hair, sending tiny drops of water flying. “I suspected something was up when he didn’t show up here afterward. Then Jack woke up enough to talk and told us what happened. We’re launching a search, but I don’t think we’ll find him. He’s probably long gone by now. Traitor.”

  “He’s Leo’s son.”

  His eyes widened. “What? How do you know that?”

  “He told me.” I suppressed a shudder and tried not to think about the weird almost-kiss, and Miles’s hot breath on my cheek.

  “He was probably messing with you. There’s no way he could be Leo’s son. He’s a Hunter. I’ve seen enough to know that, at least.”

  “I don’t know. Miles seemed pretty serious. And Leo got mad that he’d told, said he was telling me too much. Then, he seemed sort of proud of Miles, for firing the gun.”

  “Miles was really aiming for you, wasn’t he?”

  “Yeah. Apparently, Miles argued with Leo about not killing me. About letting me choose. I think they wanted me to turn and join their side. I told him no, so I guess Miles changed his mind and decided to do it Leo’s way.”

  Wes jumped up, pacing the room and shaking his head. “I knew he wasn’t to be trusted. I’ve been telling Jack this entire time. He’s too new, and we don’t know a thing about him. But Jack vouched for him, said he’d done enough side jobs and he was in.”

  “What kind of side jobs?”

  “He claimed to have gone undercover for a few weeks. He disappeared and none of us heard from him so we just had to assume it was legit. Then, he shows up out of nowhere and has an address for a possible hideout or base for Leo’s operation. We get there and there’s like two Weres in the whole place. Both are known supporters of Leo, but Leo himself is nowhere to be found. I told Jack then that it felt wrong but he was just happy for the info, small as it was. When I find him, I swear, I’ll kill him. Very slowly.” He stopped pacing, but his hands were fisted at his sides, and his eyes were unfocused, like he was picturing it.

  “I think we need to prepare for that. Seeing him, again, I mean.”

  “I know. He’s obviously just as crazy as Leo. It’s only a matter of time before he tries something else.” He sat next to me again, not really looking at me. “I should talk to the others; get everyone back here that’s out on assignment, so we can figure out what to do about stepping up security.” He was already moving toward the door, distracted with thoughts of strategy and manhunts.

  Disappointment stabbed at me again, piercing my chest with a painful prick. Protecting me was not the same as being with me, and from what I could hear, protecting me would always be first on his agenda. It wasn’t enough.

  “I’m leaving,” I said. I forced the words out quickly, picturing my fingers ripping off a sticky Band-Aid.

  He froze, his hand on the knob. His shoulders stiffened and he turned around and walked slowly back toward the chair. “What do you mean?”

  “My mom is sending me to a school. Wood Point Academy. She said it’s safer there, while you deal with Miles.”

  He sank into the chair and gazed back at me. Pain flashed in his expression, and then he blinked and it was gone, replaced by resignation. “It’s a good idea. You’ll be safe there.”

  I stared down at the blanket, wondering if that was the extent of his reaction. “You won’t be there,” I said quietly.

  “We’ll make it work.”

  My head came up; my eyes found his. I felt the pull again, and I ached to reach for his hand. “Why?” The word slipped out before I could stop it, and I realized how rude it had sounded, but a small part of me—the part that struggled to remain unaffected by the magnetic force that drew us together—didn’t care. “I mean, I thought you’d made your decision. You said it was too dangerous to be together. You broke up with me.”

  He sighed. “I never said we were breaking up, Tara. I said it was a break. I wanted to make things right with your mother first. And deal with Leo.”

  I felt myself caving and had to look away to remember what it was that I’d promised myself. What it was that still needed fixing. “And what about the danger?”

  “Let’s just say I have a feeling you’re going to put yourself into plenty of danger, with or without me. I sort of drove myself crazy trying to keep you out of it, and in the end, it didn’t do much good.” A hint of a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth. “I figure it’s better to let you be a part of things than leave you to try to deal with it on your own.”

  “So, now we’re back to protecting me as a hobby? I don’t want you to be with me just because you feel some responsibil
ity, or because of some vision of destiny.”

  Wes got out of the chair and sank onto the edge of the bed, his eyes boring into mine with enough heat to rival the bite on my neck. It was the look that always made me feel like it went all the way through me, to my deepest self. The quiet tone of his voice held the same level of intensity and I knew whatever he was going to say, I wouldn’t have the willpower to refute.

  “I’ve been running around for days, trying to be everywhere at once. Protect you, find Leo, and keep you away from danger. But I’m not willing to lose you in the process. Responsibility and visions have nothing to do with it, Tara. You are my destiny.”

  Something in my stomach flip-flopped. The words were everything I’d wanted to hear since that very first night in the alley. Those words made things like visions and danger and invisible magnets seem like no big deal.

  I tried to form some response worthy of what his words meant to me, but my vocal cords felt numb and useless. “And you’re mine,” was all I managed, and even that was a choked whisper.

  I blinked to clear away unshed tears, and then Wes was reaching for me, pulling me to him, pressing his lips to mine. His hands brushed gently at the scratches on my face. His fingertips left trails of heat in their wake, but nothing like the pain and anguish of the bites. This heat was delicious and dangerous all at once, and I pressed myself harder against him, not wanting it to end. And already feeling a pang of sadness that it would. His hands tangled in my hair, and I slipped mine under his shirt, pressing my palms to his back, wondering if my touch left trails of lovely heat on his skin, as well.

  When he began to pull away, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held tighter. I didn’t want it to end, not yet. Then I’d have to think about the fact that it still made me angry that he always put my safety ahead of anything else, including our relationship, or that I wasn’t completely sure I trusted this strange magnetic pull that always drew me to him, or that there was another Dirty Blood, after all, and he was gunning for me. The list was endless.

  I didn’t know exactly what waited outside these walls, and outside this moment, but I knew it might never feel this good again.

  * * * * *

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  Cold Blood

  Dirty Blood series, Book 2

  By Heather Hildenbrand

  One