Blood Bond (23 page)

I remembered the night I’d fought with Leo
and how much it affected me, using that steel beam on him. Then I
thought about Liliana. I’d barely felt a reaction then, or at least
from what I remembered. “So different materials cause different
reactions?”

“Precisely.”

“And the metal I just touched is more
powerful than any other metal?”

“Right-o.”

“And you thought I’d … what? React
somehow?”

“You are a perfect mix, are you not? A
completely blended cocktail, half of each kind?”

I wasn’t sure how I felt about his calling
my blood a cocktail, but I answered, anyway. He was finally
starting to make sense. Sort of. “Yes.”

“And you’re Jeremiah’s daughter?”

“Yes.”

“Then, you’re non-reaction
is exactly as it should be. You’re
her
. The one. Your father succeeded.
And more to the point, your blood is exactly what he needs.” He
pointed at George, then made a face as if he’d only now caught
sight of George’s colorful jawline. “With your DNA cocktail in his
veins, his second spirit will not rule the first.”

I shook my head, totally confused despite
the fact that he’d just told me what I wanted to hear.

“So, her giving me blood … it will cure me?”
George looked torn between relief and disbelief.

“There’s no way to stave off the change, if
that’s what you’re hoping for. It will curb the monster, keep your
first spirit, your human spirit, in control of your wolf. And what
you can’t control on your own, the bond will control for you.”

“Bond?” I repeated in a weak voice. I didn’t
love where this was going.

“If you give him the transfusion, it will
bond the two of you. Your wolf side is strong. I can sense it.”

“You can?” An acidic taste rose in the back
of my throat. Panic.

“I sensed it the minute you walked in last
night,” he said.

“But …” I looked at George. “Do you sense
it?”

“I didn’t want to say anything,” he said, a
look of silent apology creeping over his features. “It started
yesterday when you almost …”

“What does this bond entail, exactly?” I
asked, focusing on Astor again. I refused to think about the fact
that I now registered on the supernatural radar as a Werewolf.
There’d be plenty of time to freak out later.

“It’s similar to a pack dynamic, but
stronger, more visceral,” Astor said. His voice caught on the last
word. His expression was neutral, but I could see him straining to
keep it that way.

George looked confused. “What does that
mean?” he asked.

Astor sighed, his impatient expression
returning. “What do you play, jock? Baseball? Badminton?”

“Football … what’s badminton?” he asked.

Astor threw up his hands.

I spoke up, hoping to get the subject back
on track. “So, if I give George my blood, it will bond us, giving
us some sort of emotional tie to the other, but it will ensure he
stays himself, even when he shifts, correct?”

“Someone’s finally catching on,” Astor said.
He shot George a pointed look.

“And that’s it?” I asked.

“Hardly,” he said, “but it answers your
initial question.”

“And only leads to more,” I shot back.

“I hate questions,” he said.

I ignored that. “What did you mean when you
said my father succeeded? And how did my non-reaction to that piece
of Unbiliu-whatever tell you I was so special?”

“It’s Unbinilium. And the best way to
explain is to show you.” He held out his hand. “The rod, give it to
me.”

I held out the bar and set it in his hand.
His fingers closed around it and almost immediately his hand began
to shake. Then his arm. Then his entire torso. What began as tiny
tremors quickly turned to violent shakes as the reaction spread
through his body, into his legs. One of his knees buckled, and I
reached out and snatched the rod away from him. As soon as his body
lost contact with the material, the shaking subsided. He took a
deep breath, let it out slowly, and shoved his hand through his
disheveled hair. Energy crackled in the air, raw and smelling of
ozone.

His voice shook as he spoke again. “As you
can see, the purer the metal, the more heightened the reaction.
George, on the other hand, well … See for yourself.”

I looked where he pointed and found George.
He’d wandered away, apparently to nose around at the different
containers and instruments littering the tables, and was bent over
a see-through tank, sniffing the liquid. As I watched, he reached
out and touched whatever was in the tub. As soon as his finger made
contact, he pulled back and yelped.

“George!”

I rushed over but George backed away,
clearly in pain. I glanced at the tank. Stacked inside, completely
submerged in liquid, were metal bars. They looked a lot like the
Unbinilium I’d just watched Astor react to.

He held his arm against his chest, cradling
it and wincing.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

In answer, he uncurled his hand and showed
me his fingertips. The pointer and middle finger were red and
blistered, like they’d been burned. He blew on them. “Stings like a
bitch.”

“Stop touching things, then.” I wanted to
feel bad for him but was too distracted by what it all meant. “I
get it,” I said, walking over as Astor dropped the rod back into
the vat. He adjusted one of the giant dials on the lid and then
stood back to eye the rest. “You’re saying I’m immune to metal. But
if that’s true, then why did I react when I used it to kill a
Werewolf a couple of months ago?”

“Had your wolf side emerged yet?” he
asked.

“No,” I said. He gave me a
look that said
well there you go
then
. “But it was still in me, right? In
my blood?” Astor shook his head. “Then I don’t
understand.”

He rolled his eyes. “You can’t expect me to
fill you in on a lifetime of research and experimenting in such a
short time.”

“Try,” I said.

“The short version is that your father found
something in my research, a genetic coding I’d developed that
allowed the bearer of such a code to exude the characteristics of a
Werewolf without actually becoming one. Somehow, and I don’t know
the details as I wasn’t exactly in the loop by then, but somehow,
he found a way to do the reverse.” He paused, brows raised as if
waiting for me to understand. “Reversing the code sent a present
Werewolf gene into dormancy. When you were born, he injected you
with a serum made from this code.”

“And that’s why my wolf side is only now
showing itself,” I finished.

He beamed like a teacher might at his star
pupil. “Right-o.”

“Why now? Wouldn’t it have been easier to
make it disappear forever?”

“Sure, and while we’re at it I’ll rope the
moon for you,” he snapped. “You think something like this is
easy?”

“I bit back my retort and focused. “Why do
it at all?”

“It was entirely for your protection. There
was another ingredient to the serum, a gene-booster if you will.
It’s what gave you your immunity to metals, precious or otherwise.”
His words became halting. “No one else in Werewolf history has been
able to fight the power of precious metals.” Longing flashed in his
eyes, coupled with a sudden and unbearable sadness that vanished so
quickly, I thought I’d imagined it.

“You were right,” I said, “My blood is a
cocktail.”

Astor blinked, his expression smoothing
over. “I’m always right when it comes to science.”

“But why would my dad do this? Was he going
to turn me into some sort of super-hybrid? For what? Peace?” I
couldn’t help the sarcasm on the last word.

“How should I know?” Astor shrugged, his
voice taking on the singsong quality of earlier. “Lunch, lunch,
time for lunch.”

Lunch? Already? “Astor, stay with me here,”
I said. “I’m not finished.”

“I’m finished. Terminée. Terminado.
Afgewerkt.”

“Astor—”

“Tay, let him be.” George came up behind me
and slung his arm around my shoulder. “He’s obviously nutso. And he
did kill a girl, remember?”

Astor’s eyes flashed and he rounded on
George. He straightened to his full height, which was the same as
George’s now that he wasn’t slouching, and stared at him. “You know
nothing,” he hissed, stabbing his index finger into George’s
chest.

George’s eyes flashed, yellow and angry, and
I stilled, my muscles tensing. Something about the way he looked at
Astor … his eyes were darker, his pupils dilated. I inched forward,
ready to land a blow across his other cheek if need be.

Finally, he threw his hands up in a sign of
surrender. “Yes, sir, I know nothing.”

The intensity of Astor’s expression
disappeared as quickly as it had come. He leaned away and smoothed
his shirt, his eyes vacant. “I’m hungry, who’s hungry?” He dropped
the tongs onto the table with a clang.

I scurried forward, unsure what else to do
but follow.

“Time to eat. Then time to paint. No more
questions,” he continued out into the hallway, turning the words
into a song. “Jeeves! Jeeves! Lunch!”

Mathias appeared, from where, though, I
couldn’t tell. “Sir, your easel has been prepared in the
lounge.”

“Easel?” Astor blinked at him. “Time to
paint?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Paint. Then eat.” Astor
looked at me. “Paint. Then eat,” he repeated and then left. I
caught the sound of him humming as he disappeared around a corner.
It sounded strangely like the theme song to
The Addams Family
. Astor reminded me
of one of the characters, Uncle Fester. Strange, guarded, always
out of left field.

I stayed where I was, unsure where to go in
this giant house without Astor or Professor Flaherty to escort me.
Mathias cleared his throat. “Shall I show you to the game
room?”

George tugged on my arm and I nodded. “That
would be great,” I told him.

Mathias led us to a new doorway and promised
to be back to get us for lunch before disappearing. The room was
exactly what the name implied, complete with a foosball table,
three different game consoles, surround sound speakers for the big
screen, and a pool table. George let out a whoop and picked up a
controller to the game console. I fell onto the couch with a look
of longing directed at the pool table. My lids felt heavy after the
last few nights of broken sleep. Even the revelation about my
dormant wolf couldn’t keep me awake. The last noise I heard was the
revving of George’s racecar as he beat the first level of his
game.

George shook me awake. Mathias waited at the
door when I stood and stretched.

“Lunch is served in the sunroom. I can show
you the way if you like,” Mathias said. His voice and expression
were deadpan, as, I was beginning to realize, it always was.

“Do we have to eat with Astor?” George
whispered.

I glared at him, but didn’t answer. “Thank
you, Mathias. That would be great.”

He dipped his head in a nod and we followed
him down the hall. I slowed my pace to put distance between us and
Mathias. I kept my voice low.

“I want answers, and he’s the only one who
can give them to me. So, yes, we eat with him,” I whispered.

“He doesn’t like me. Maybe I should just sit
this one out,” George whispered back.

My brows lifted. “And pass up a meal?”

His mouth curved. “All right, maybe I’ll
just keep quiet and sit far away from him.”

Apparently, a nap had been what my brain
needed to kick into overdrive. A thousand different questions
speared through me as we walked. Why had my dad done this to me?
Had he really been trying to protect me by deferring my Werewolf
gene? From whom? From where I stood, everything my parents had ever
kept from me only came back to bite me in the end. And if this was
true then I should’ve been a Werewolf since birth, like Wes. Only,
why hadn’t Miles ever shifted? He hadn’t registered as wolf on my
radar at all.

Professor Flaherty was already at the table
with Astor. They broke off their low conversation as we entered and
Professor Flaherty smiled.

“Tara, George, there you are. Come and sit
down. This crab dip is amazing,” she said.

George didn’t need to be told twice. He took
a seat at the far end of the table and began scooping food onto his
plate. Astor’s head was down, like he was fascinated with the
crackers and cheese on his plate. I didn’t give a crap about crab
dip, but the answers I wanted were trapped inside those who did. I
sat.

“It sounds like you had a productive
morning,” Professor Flaherty said.

“Very,” I said cautiously. How much did she
know? Could I talk to her, instead of trying to break through
Astor’s wall of crazy?

Professor Flaherty’s expression softened, as
if she could read my thoughts. “I told you last night, your secrets
are safe with me.”

“Secrets are the devil!” Abruptly, Astor
shoved back from the table and strode out of the room, sputtering
about devils and “the sins of the father.”

“Speaking of secrets,” I said, giving her a
pointed look.

She sighed. “There are a quite a few stored
in that brain of his,” she said. “Go easy on him. He isn’t used to
the demands of company.”

I wanted to say he didn’t
seem used to the demands of
sanity
, but I had a feeling that
wouldn’t have been well-received.

“I spoke with your mother earlier,”
Professor Flaherty said. “Your grandmother will be here this
evening.”

“Of course she will,” I said.

“I’m sorry, I know you didn’t want them to
know, but I couldn’t let them continue to worry.”

“No, I understand. I knew they’d find me
eventually. Frankly, I’m surprised it took them this long.”

“She did say something about your ‘little
diversion’ and how she’d be speaking to you about that.”