Blood Bond (24 page)

I held back a shudder as I thought about how
angry they were all going to be. I had no doubt my time for answers
would end as soon as that doorbell rang. I needed to hurry.
“Professor, how much do you know about me? I mean, about the stuff
Astor told me, the genetic coding in my blood?”

“You mean, do I know if he’s telling the
truth?” I nodded. “I do, and he is.”

I slumped back in my chair. I should’ve been
happy to finally understand what was going on with me and how to
save George, but hearing Astor’s explanation only raised more
questions. And the one person who could answer them had died
seventeen years ago.

“How about we take a walk?” Professor
Flaherty set her napkin aside and stood. “I could use some fresh
air.”

I looked down at my plate. It was still
empty. My stomach felt like it held rocks. I shot a look at George.
“I’ll be here,” he said, the words distorted by a full mouth. He
waved at me with his fork. “Go on.” I rose and followed Professor
Flaherty out.

Chapter Thirteen

The door opened into the
backyard, in the middle of the bright green garden I’d chased
George through the night before. It extended along the entire
perimeter of the house. Or, more accurately, it
was
the perimeter, the way it
thickened and grew together like a wall at its borders.

We stood on a deck that overlooked
descending tiers of greenery and large exotic flowers. The types of
plants differed on each tier, getting smaller and smaller closer to
the ground. Far below was the desert floor, burnished golden sand
that reflected sunlight until your eyes hurt. It stretched for
miles until it met the horizon.

“This is beautiful,” I said, inhaling the
dry desert air mixed with the pungent sweetness of the plants.

“It’s my favorite place on the property,”
she agreed.

We descended the deck stairs that led to a
winding path weaving up and down the length of the first tier.
Leaves the length of my arms, with droplets of moisture lining
their veins, hung over onto the path. The humidity increased as the
canopy of plants closed over our heads—a rainforest in the
desert.

“Astor says you had no reaction to the
Unbinilium,” she said.

“Which apparently makes me immune to metal.
So … some sort of all-powerful hybrid?” It came out as more of a
question than a statement; frankly, I still wasn’t sure how much to
believe.

She smiled wryly. “I see he wasn’t delicate
with the details.”

“He just didn’t give any, really. Besides,
is he ever? Delicate, I mean?” She caught my eye, letting me know
she understood the real question here; this was my way of asking
how crazy Astor really was.

“No,” she admitted. “Not really. But he’s
better at explaining the science than I am, and I knew seeing his
work come to life would make him happy.”

I thought of the jig he’d done when I’d held
onto that rod. Professor Flaherty couldn’t be more his opposite,
with her calm, cool demeanor, her quiet grace. Even in battle, she
carried herself this way, letting what she didn’t say speak louder
than what she did. She reminded me of Angela.

“How do you two know each other?” I
asked.

“Extractive metallurgy.” I gave her a blank
look, and she laughed. “Yes, it’s a mouthful, I know.”

“What does it mean?” I reached out and ran
my hand over the petals of a bright orange flower, each one larger
than my hand. It felt smooth, like velvet, under my fingertips.

“It’s the study of processes used in
separation and concentration of raw materials,” she explained.

“In English?”

“He purifies metal.”

“Is that what those barrels in his lab are
for?”

“Yes. The liquids are a mixture he concocted
himself. I’m not sure what’s in it, exactly. Several different
types of acids, a solvent, a neutralizer.” She looked like she was
about to say more, but then stopped at my expression.

“Sorry, I’m sure you’re speaking English,
it’s just not my English,” I said.

She smiled. “It wasn’t always mine,
either.”

“What made you interested in it?” I
asked.

“I wasn’t, not really,” she admitted. She
paused and the look she gave let me know whatever was coming was
personal for her. “The Cause, the original group, was founded when
I was twelve. Back then, I was too young to understand, and they
were too small to matter. That changed the summer I turned sixteen.
My parents managed to get me an internship with CHAS. I didn’t have
a specialty or any specific interest yet and they wanted one for
me. I think they hoped I’d either run for office or marry someone
who held office.

“Instead, I was given the job of lab
assistant. I realized pretty quickly why. Astor was very hard to
work for and impossible to please, especially since I had basically
no knowledge of chemistry or metallurgy.” My brows creased as my
mouth began to form a question. She answered it before I could ask.
“Astor was the head of the department for CHAS. The one who oversaw
all of the weapons manufacturing, specifically the metals.”

“Astor worked for CHAS?” I said, unable to
hide my surprise—and confusion. “How is that possible? I thought
they hated Werewolves.”

“What makes you think he’s a Werewolf?” she
asked, a single brow raised in challenge.

“Vera said …”

“Yes, she would remember him that way,
wouldn’t she?” she said, almost to herself. Then to me, “Astor’s
been a little of both for a long time.”

“He’s a hybrid?”

“Not exactly. He’s a … cocktail, shall we
say.” I nodded, not quite understanding, especially after hearing
him use that word to describe me, but not wanting to interrupt her
again. “Anyway, I didn’t know a beaker from a glass jar, and he
hated me for it. I almost quit.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I met your father. Oh, it wasn’t like
that,” she assured me quickly. “He was nice enough, and handsome,
but he and your mother were already an item, and anyway, I was too
focused on getting Astor to accept me and making my parents proud
than anything else. But the things he said, the peace he believed
in and was willing to fight for, stayed with me. The following
summer I applied for the same internship, but I found out Astor had
left. A new head scientist had been appointed. I realized I didn’t
want to work for anyone else, so I withdrew my application without
telling my parents, and I tracked him down. When it was time to go,
I convinced my parents to let me travel alone and instead of
reporting to CHAS headquarters, I spent the summer here.”

She stopped and let out a heavy breath.
“Wow, I haven’t told that story in … I can’t remember.”

“Thank you for telling me,” I said, and I
meant it. It was the most I’d been told about my father by someone
other than my mother in my whole life. I soaked it in. “So, you
know about the genetic coding because of your time working for
Astor and my dad those two summers?”

She nodded and her mouth pulled taut at the
corners. “I worked here three summers in total, but then … it
wasn’t the same anymore after—” She broke off and I hesitated,
trying to decide how much to admit to knowing. Not that I knew
anything for sure—only what Grandma told me. And Vera.

“You mean when that girl got killed?” I
asked softly.

Her gaze swiveled to mine. “You know about
Mary Beth?”

“Not much,” I admitted. “I know there was an
accident. Astor was held responsible.”

“I met Mary Beth the first summer I worked
here at the manor. She was brilliant. She was a few years older
than Astor and something of a mentor, I think. They were a perfect
match, intellectually. Both of them tested off the IQ charts and
each was as scatterbrained as the other when it came to the routine
of daily life.” She chuckled. “I cooked more meals and did more
laundry than any actual science that summer. Their research was
heavy. I didn’t understand most of it. I think that’s why I didn’t
try to stop them …”

“Stop them from what?” I asked when she
didn’t continue. Her expression was far away, as if she’d returned
to the memory she described.

“I remember them coming out of the lab,
singing, dancing, yelling all over the place, so excited at what
they’d figured out. I heard the words “genetic code” and “metal
immunity.” That was about all I understood. They told me to call
Jeremiah, your father. When he got here, they called us all into
the lab for a demonstration. I watched as they pulled piece after
piece of metal out of the leaching liquids with their bare hands
and tossed it back and forth. Neither one showed any hint of
reaction to any of it.

“Your father was beside himself with
excitement. He demanded to know how they’d done it. I demanded it,
as well, though I wasn’t sure I’d understand the explanation. It
was like a magic trick. I’d never seen anything like it, never
dreamt it was possible.

“Astor explained he’d injected Mary Beth
with some sort of genetic mutation that allowed the immunity. Back
then, it was short-acting. Nothing permanent. But it was a miracle,
nonetheless. We tested it over and over for a week, using the
purest metals we could find, leaching them until they were
completely stripped, raw with power. Then we called CHAS.”

Her expression darkened. I tensed, sensing
some detail I’d missed. “Was that bad?” I asked. “Shouldn’t they
have been happy Hunters could wield metals without physical
consequences?” I remembered all of those side effects Logan had
mentioned. Surely, CHAS would’ve employed this technology by
now.

“They didn’t see it that way. CHAS was
furious. They were afraid of what it could mean, so they ordered it
shut down and buried.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, glad Astor
wasn’t here to roll his eyes at my repetitiveness.

“All they saw was that Astor had created a
way for Werewolves to protect themselves against our greatest
weapon. They won’t allow technology that benefits the enemy.”

It took a minute to understand. “Mary Beth
was a Werewolf.”

“Yes.”

“The technology blocks reactions to
metal.”

“Precisely.”

I scrunched my brows together. Something had
been bothering me since I’d arrived. I hadn’t been able to pinpoint
it until now. “Why can’t I sense him? Astor, I mean.” I hadn’t felt
a single jolt come over me since I’d arrived. No goosebumps,
nothing. “I know you said he’s a mixture, but I should be able to
feel him, right?”

“Do you know what exactly about them
triggers our body’s warning system?” I shook my head. “It’s the
wolf DNA that lingers after they’ve changed. It sends a signal to
our brains, letting us know that even though they look human in
that moment, they are more. A possible threat. But the wolf DNA
only lingers as long as they are capable of shifting. Otherwise,
they feel like any other human.”

I thought of Miles and how he’d only ever
registered as a Hunter. “Are you saying Astor can’t shift?”

“I’m saying he hasn’t in almost fifteen
years.”

“Why not?”

“He says it’s a byproduct of all the
experiments he’s conducted on himself. He was born a Werewolf but
by the time he went to work for CHAS, he’d manipulated his body
into that of a Hunter. His inability to shift was the only reason
they hired him.”

“So what ended up happening with CHAS? They
were mad about the metal immunity stuff, right?”

“Right. CHAS sent Astor a ‘cease and desist’
letter. Astor refused. Three nights later, the house was raided.
They launched tear gas through the windows. I managed to find Astor
stumbling toward the lab, but Mary Beth was missing. I forced Astor
out the side door and we were detained. When the smoke cleared and
the guards emerged, they’d already boxed up the entire contents of
the lab—including Mary Beth. We were told they found her there,
gathering notes. They approached her, demanded she stop, and she
tried to run. They said she tripped and fell into the barrel of
leaching liquids. Her body burned in the acid.”

“Those barrels are at least three feet high
and the lids are closed. How could she have tripped?” I asked.

“A very good question.” There was fire in
her eyes behind the sadness and the regret.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“So am I. Astor was never the same, as you
can see.”

“He loved her?”

“Yes, but it became more than that. I didn’t
realize about the bond until after.”

My body stilled. “What do you mean
‘bond’?”

“From what I could get from Astor, he
injected himself with Mary Beth’s blood at some point during their
research phase. Something about testing the metal immunity on
himself but it didn’t work. Instead, it created some sort of
emotional link between them. He felt what she felt, and vice versa.
It made her death that much harder on him. Sometimes I think he
only acts this way to cover up the pain.”

I shuddered and stroked the orange flower
until it drooped under the weight of my hand. Astor had said George
and I would have a bond if I gave him my blood. Would it be this
way for us? A link so strong that if one died, the other was driven
insane with grief? Could I do that to him? To myself?

I cast about, searching my jumbled thoughts
for something, anything, to focus on. The weight of the solution
before me was too much. I needed to catch my breath; I needed
facts.

“I always wondered why they used metal
against Werewolves,” I said. I was aware of the way I’d said “they”
instead of “we” on purpose. I wasn’t willing to put myself into the
same category as CHAS any longer. “Is the purifying, or leaching,
what makes it harmful?”

“That and the properties already within the
material itself.” She smiled ruefully. “I forget sometimes how
little you know about our culture. Yes, the leaching, or purifying,
helps, but mostly it’s the fact that metal is a conductor all on
its own.”