Blood Bond (33 page)

“They took it well,” I said. “Better than
expected, but then you’d already filled them in on the jaw-dropping
parts.”

“Sorry about that,” she mumbled. “But
seriously, you weren’t there. There is no good cop, bad cop.
There’s only scary and scarier.” I couldn’t help but laugh. It
earned me a glare. “Considering I missed all the action, I’d say
we’re even.”

“It’s not over yet,” I said.

“What do you mean?” She looked back and
forth between Alex and me.

“Long story,” I said.

“One I’ve already heard.” Alex rose. “I’m
going to crash. Big day tomorrow. Get some rest, chief.” He patted
my knee as he left.

Cambria waited until the back door clicked
shut. She eyed me in the darkness. “What in the hello-hottie is
going on? What’s he doing here, besides making you sweat?”

“Ugh.” I leaned back against the wooden
pillar, knocking my head against it a couple of times for good
measure. “Like I said, long story.”

She folded her arms and propped her legs in
front of her. “I’ve got time. Besides, whenever you say ‘long
story,’ it’s the popcorn-and-vodka kind.”

“Popcorn and vodka?” I echoed.

“Yeah, you know, popcorn for the show and
vodka because the only way any of it’s going to make sense is if
you’re halfway sauced. Especially with your stellar decision-making
skills.”

“Hey.”

“I’m just sayin’…”

“Do you want to know the story or not?”

“Proceed.” She made the motion of zipping
her lips closed and throwing away the key.

Her silence lasted all of five minutes.
Right around the time where I told her about seeing Victoria’s
parents. “No way. Were they all glowy-eyed and evil? Did they foam
at the mouth?”

“The hybrids don’t foam at the mouth,
Cam.”

“But the other stuff, were they
weird-looking?”

“No, they looked like … people. They were in
human form at first.”

She frowned. “I thought the hybrids couldn’t
shift back and forth.”

I thought back to the night Alex had been
attacked by the Werewolf Miles sent. How the man returned to human
form in death. “I think some can. The ones who cling more to their
human side. But it seemed to take a lot for them to pull it
off.”

“And they’re after you?” she asked.
“Why?”

“Let me tell the story. No more
interruptions.” It was bad enough having to retell it.

“Really wishing I had some vodka right about
now.”

I rolled my eyes and continued. I managed to
make it as far as the metal immunity test before she spoke again.
“Logan would love this guy. I don’t care how crazy he is—maybe
because of the crazy.”

“Yeah, he took to Logan right away.”

“Wait, Logan’s there?”

“Let me finish!”

“Okay, okay …”

I managed to get through the rest of it
without her interrupting again. It wasn’t like her reactions
weren’t written all over her face, anyway. The “oh” and “what the
heck?” expressions she alternated between said it all.

“So, the ice queen’s parents are after
you—as are all the other hybrids—to turn you over to this Olivia
chick, or else she’ll kill people.”

Bailey’s face floated in my mind. “Yes,” I
said.

“But no one knows who Olivia is or what she
wants with you.” I nodded. “And in the meantime, you’re immune to
metal like I’m immune to ugly guys with bad pickup lines. No
effect. And now that you’ve shared blood with Georgie-boy, he’s
back to his old self. Humanity, normal eyes, no desire to kill for
fun. Unless you count Wes. Who’s got his hands full with Alex.
Who’s here, why, again?”

“Training.” I gave her the short version of
the situation with CHAS, and Steppe’s intention to vote The Cause
out of the amnesty treaty. Cambria didn’t say anything, even when
I’d finished. She sat chewing her lip and tugging on the ends of
her hair.

“Cam? Are you thinking about your mom?”

“He’s going to lock her up and throw away
the key, I just know it,” she said. Her tone changed. No more
sarcasm. No more flippant humor.

“You don’t know. Maybe Grandma can do
something—”

“No one can. Steppe has the final word on
this stuff. And why do you think your grandma’s here and not there?
There’s nothing else she can do anymore. For you. For my mom. For
anyone.”

“Then I will.”

“Right.” She snorted. “You going to charm
Steppe into your love triangle—? Or are you up to more of a
pentagon now?”

“I’m serious, Cam. For months, everyone’s
been watching me, waiting, like they’re holding their breath. I
know I have a decision to make. I’ve known it since the night Wes
told me about Vera’s visions, even though I couldn’t admit it then.
Until now, I haven’t wanted to choose, but what good is this sort
of power if I don’t use it to do something good, something to help
people?”

“Okay, I just have to say this. No offense,
because immunity to metal is awesome, but it’s not really power.
You’re just a kid. Harder to kill, but still, just a kid. How are
you going to help people?”

“I don’t know yet,” I admitted. “But I’m
going to figure it out. And it’s not just immunity to metal.
There’s one other thing.”

“Isn’t there always, with you?”

I told her about my shifting and the night
at school, where I’d killed all the hybrids.

She shrugged. “So, you’re becoming a wolf,
finally?”

“What do you mean ‘finally’?”

“It’s been coming for a while now. You don’t
remember those crazy mood swings you had back before Miles came
around? That night at the bonfire?”

“Well, yeah …”

“PMS is one thing, but those mood swings
were something else.”

I shook my head. “You’re way too calm about
this stuff.”

She shrugged. “I roll with it.”

“I killed an entire pack of hybrids.”

“Evil hybrids,” she corrected.

“Still …”

“Let’s make a deal. You don’t morph into a
Werewolf and try to kill me, and I’ll be cool with the new, furry
you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Deal.

Chapter Nineteen

The thing about mornings—they always came
way too early. Then again, I hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in
over a week, so I was grateful for the uninterrupted rest, the
comfort of my own bed—even if the alarm did begin to buzz long
before I would’ve liked.

“Shut oommphhh,” Cambria said from her air
mattress. She said some more words I didn’t catch. They didn’t
sound morning-friendly.

I rolled over and hit the snooze button,
already grumpy.

My mood didn’t improve as I dressed in
running shorts and a sports bra and headed downstairs. It wasn’t
until I walked into the kitchen—and saw the way Alex’s eyes took me
in—that I realized I probably should’ve worn something with a
little more fabric.

“Morning, chief,” he said.

“Whatever,” I grumbled and went for the
coffee. My mom stood at the stove, moving eggs around in a pan.

“You hungry?” she asked.

“Uh-uh.” I gulped from my mug, working
through the burn that met my lips and tongue.

“You should eat some of these, anyway. It’ll
keep your energy up during your workout,” she said.

“She’s right,” Alex agreed. “You look a
little … never mind,” he said at my murderous expression.

I took the offered plate and fork and sat at
the bar with Alex. His eyes lingered on my bare arms before he went
back to his newspaper. I scarfed a bite of eggs. “Where’s Grandma?”
I asked.

“She went to see Vera. She’s trying to pin
down the identity of this Olivia person,” my mom said. She swiveled
from the stove to the counter, wiping every open surface with a wet
rag. She looked distracted, her mouth turned downward. She’d wiped
the same spot three times already.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Did something
happen with Wes and—?”

“No, no, everyone’s fine,” she said.
“They’re still on the road. Should be home tonight.” I sighed with
relief.

I didn’t have to ask about George. The bond
between us had grown more distinct, and I could feel him getting
closer. I could also read his mood a little better than I could
yesterday. Calm and content. He was enjoying Wes’s and Cord’s
company, which was a little weird. Some anxiety came through,
probably due to the situation and our abrupt separation, but
nothing major. Most importantly, he was all right.

“What is it, then?” I pressed. I had a
moment’s panic wondering if CHAS had already made some sort of move
against The Cause.

“Vera’s not feeling well. I think she’s
getting worse,” my mom said.

My shoulders fell. Why did everyone have to
go bad at once? “Is it—I mean, is she okay?” I asked.

“She’ll be fine, for now,” my mom said. “But
her energy level isn’t there, not like it was.”

Considering Vera had next to no energy
before, it couldn’t be good.

My mom shook herself, as if casting off the
glumness. Her expression cleared. Some of the shadows remained, but
she was back to business. “In the meantime, you’ve got training,
and I need to make some calls to settle the rest of our
schedules.”

She left us alone after that. I finished my
eggs, worried about Vera, and went back to my coffee. I was
debating a second cup when Alex folded the paper and pushed off his
stool. He placed his dishes in the sink and grabbed a couple of
bottles of water out of the fridge.

“You ready?” he asked. It made me grumpy all
over again seeing him so awake and refreshed.

“How far are we running?” I asked, sliding
off my stool.

He shrugged. “I don’t live here, you do, so
today, you pick the route.”

“I get to choose?” My eyes narrowed. “What’s
the catch?”

“No catch. Think of it as a day to ease back
into things and show me around at the same time.”

I chuckled and pushed open the back door.
“You know those three stoplights we went through on the way home
last night?”

“Yeah.”

“Consider your tour complete. That was
pretty much ‘city center’ right there.”

“Obviously people don’t live here because of
the bustling city atmosphere. What about the scenery? Show me what
you like about this place.”

It was a challenge, that much I knew, and if
I was being honest, one too tempting to pass up. “Come on.”

I led him past the gazebo where we’d talked
last night—where he’d heard everything. Remembering the stark truth
of my confession in the light of day did weird things to my
stomach. Confessing it to my mom and Grandma had been one
thing—their love was unconditional—but this was Alex. I stopped at
the edge of the woods on the pretense of stretching.

“About last night …” I began, grabbing my
foot and pulling it behind me.

“It was quite a story,” he said.

“Is that it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve had all night to think about it, I
just—I don’t know.”

“I told you last night what I thought.”

We’d both given up any pretense of
stretching. He was looking at me with the same expression he’d worn
last night. It made me more nervous than when he’d checked me out
at breakfast. I swallowed. “I know, but maybe you changed your
mind.”

“I didn’t change my mind. Not about
you.”

His words seemed to reference more than just
my blood type and physical capabilities. I purposely ignored that
part. “Good,” I said. “I was afraid you’d be mad at me for not
telling you about George right away.”

“I wish you’d told me so I could’ve helped,
but I’m not mad. I mean, I guess we’re even, since I didn’t tell
you about working with Edie.”

“Did you only take the scouting job with
Kane because of Grandma? Or did you really want it?”

“Both, I guess.” His jaw tightened. “I know
you don’t approve, so don’t lecture me. Besides …” He scratched his
head in a way that made him look suddenly unsure. “In a way, it
wasn’t your grandma that made me agree to work against Steppe. It
was you.”

“Why me?”

“You inspire me. To be better, or something.
I don’t know. I mean, look at me, I’m not a spy. I’m a soldier.
Always have been, always will be. When you really get down to it,
the scouting thing is me. Being a Hunter is me, just like it was my
dad. The spy thing, the revolution, is you.” He looked back at me,
his expression carefully clear of any emotion. “Come on, chief,
show me these woods.”

He broke into a jog, and I followed. His
words twisted me up inside. What did that even mean, “the
revolution”? I hadn’t said anything like that. Is that what he
thought? Is that what this was?

And him agreeing to spy for Grandma, had he
only done it because he thought it would make me happy? I’d half
hoped he’d changed his mind on hunting with Kane, but that
obviously wasn’t the case. He sounded like he missed it. Like maybe
he wished he hadn’t left.

Too many emotions, too many conflicting
thoughts swirled inside me, and in the end, I was glad for the run.
It meant we could be together without the burden of talking.
Moments of silence—this was the one, sure time Alex and I could be
friends.

I had no idea how far we ran. I stopped
estimating after mile four. Our pace was comfortable enough that I
wasn’t hyperventilating—much. Alex was barely winded, as usual.
Still, he motioned for us to stop when we reached a shallow
creek.

“It’s really nice back here,” he said,
walking a small circle, admiring the green-leafed canopy that
closed us in on the forest floor.

I inhaled deeply, partly to catch my breath
and partly in appreciation of the damp, woodsy smell that was
inherently home to me. After the dry dustiness of the Nevada air,
this was heaven.

“I’d trade the humidity for the desert
again, though,” he added.

“Mm, not me.” I bent down at the water’s
edge and splashed water over my face and arms to cool off. “Never
thought I’d say that, but I missed the humidity right along with
everything else. All that dry heat gave me a headache.” I rubbed
water over the back of my neck.