Blood Bond (8 page)

I shivered. “Deal.”

I let out a breath. Some of the worry went
with it. Together. We’d figure this out together.

Chapter Five

A few minutes later we made our way back to
the lake. We didn’t get far before the sound of raised voices and
footsteps reached us. Goosebumps spidered up my arms, across my
shoulders. I spotted Cambria first, her wet clothes pasted to her
skin. She was wringing out her hair and laughing at something Derek
said. Cord and Bailey were right behind them, shoving each other.
As they reached us, Cord reached over and locked her arm around
Bailey’s neck. She pulled his head down and rubbed her knuckles
over his scalp.

“That’ll teach you to mess with a Hunter,”
she said.

I stared. It always took me off guard that a
genuine smile could transform her features into something so
friendly and open. She was beautiful when she was being nice. She
released Bailey and met my eyes—and scowled. Derek broke off
whatever he was telling Cambria and looked up as we approached. Wes
cleared his throat, one brow arched upward. I wondered what sort of
thoughts he was picking up from them.

“Oh, hey,” Cambria said to me.

“Hey yourself,” I returned. “Feeling a
little cooler now?”

She shrugged. “It’ll last until we leave the
cover of the woods. Then I’ll probably burst into flames.” Derek
threw Wes his shirt. He caught it in the air and draped it over his
shoulder. I took my shoes from Bailey and slipped them on.

“You guys finished trying to drown each
other?” Wes said, clapping Bailey on the back as we fell into
step.

“For now. You guys finished making out?”
Bailey shot back.

“For now,” Wes echoed. Bailey rolled his
eyes.

Again, goosebumps rose along my arms—this
time with a forceful tremor.

I shuddered with the intensity of the
warning, and spun out from under Wes’s arm, searching the forest.
Had Fee come looking for us? No way would my goosebumps be this
strong from only her. Not even her and Jack.

“You guys …” I began and then let it hang.
The others were already fanning out. I met Wes’s eyes and he nodded
once before glancing away again, toward the trees. I took another
step away. I knew what it meant. The moment we spotted anything
resembling a Werewolf, he, Derek, and Bailey would shift.

My eyes scanned for movement. The goosebumps
intensified until the hairs on my arms and neck stood so straight
it stung. I caught a glimpse of movement; a spot of brown fur
darting among the trees.

“Shit.” Cord’s curse came from my left
flank. She’d moved closer, a defensive tactic.

“Agreed,” I said without turning. Whoever
this was, the fact that they hadn’t announced themselves yet
couldn’t be good. More fur, more movement. All of it bearing down
on us.

“Baby Jesus, there must be two dozen of
them,” Cambria breathed from behind me. I glanced over. She was
scared but holding it together. Derek was nearby. His eyes met
mine, then flicked to Wes.

“Come here,” I said in a low voice,
motioning for Cambria to come closer.

Behind her, Derek shifted. I didn’t have to
turn to know Wes and Bailey were doing the same. Cambria’s eyes
widened at something over my shoulder. I heard the sound of ripping
fabric.

“Wes and Bailey just shifted,” she said,
still staring.

“I know.”

Her head tilted to one side, her expression
thoughtful. “Bet they lose a lot of clothes that way.”

I smiled crookedly in spite of the
tension.

A growl sounded from behind me. Wes.
Werewolves—lots of them—had come into view and positioned
themselves in a circle. We were surrounded. I swallowed hard. The
surrounded part didn’t bother me nearly as much as their appearance
up close.

“Check out their eyes,” Cambria
whispered.

“Hybrids.” I stared into their yellow eyes,
pumping my fists open and closed to keep my hands from shaking.
What if it happened again? Right here in front of my friends, what
if I shifted into a monster?

“What do you want?” Wes called out, his
words only half discernible through the growl that coated them.

A mangy wolf the color of mud stepped up,
eyeing Wes, then me. There was something familiar about him. “We
want the girl,” it said.

“Is he talking about Tara?” Bailey asked
Wes. He’d scooted closer, so the two stood shoulder to shoulder.
Bailey always itched for action. More often than not, he was made
to sit out. I could imagine the amount of adrenaline flowing
through his animal veins right now. His vanilla-colored coat
bunched and tensed with coiled muscles. Beside him, Wes was
rigid.

“What do you want with Tara?” Wes asked.

“Justice. Revenge.” Its shoulders rippled. I
couldn’t tell if it was a shrug or anticipation.

“You’re here to avenge Miles?” Wes asked. He
shook his head. Disbelief and disgust colored his voice. “He was
using you. He didn’t care about you before and now he’s gone. Not
coming back. Let it go. You still have a choice. You can choose to
join us and save yourself from CHAS.”

The wolf’s eyes flickered at that. Had he
been a Hunter before Miles changed him? Maybe that’s why he seemed
familiar. “We are not afraid of CHAS. Let them come.” His eyes
settled on me again. I shivered. “Last chance to give up the
girl.”

“Did Miles order this? If something happened
to him, you all come after her?”

“We do not take orders from Miles.” The last
word dragged out, becoming a snarl. A whine went up with the other
wolves. Paws stomped and scraped at the ground.

“You can’t have Tara,” Wes growled back,
“but you’re welcome to try.”

He was answered by a short howl from the
leader. The rest chimed in, pawing the dirt, inching forward.

“We don’t even have weapons,” Cambria
hissed.

She was right. My hands were achingly empty.
If I had nothing to use against them, maybe shifting wasn’t such a
bad idea. It had worked the first time. But then, there weren’t any
witnesses left besides Wes when I was done. I held back a shudder.
What if I hurt my friends?

“Here!”

At the sound of Cord’s voice, I turned just
in time to grab the branch hurtling toward my head. Another was
right behind it. I snagged that one and handed it off to
Cambria.

“We do now,” I said.

Cambria twirled the branch in her hand,
adjusting her grip, testing the weight. She didn’t even blink as
she shifted into a crouch, branch at the ready. The confusion at
being caught off guard disappeared. In its place was fierce
determination. She’d transformed to a Hunter, trained and ready to
face Werewolves. I tried to channel the same thing as the hybrids
slowly advanced.

“Last chance to give up the girl, and we’ll
let you live,” said the pack leader. The alpha.

“Go to hell,” Derek said. He’d stepped up
next to Wes and Bailey so that the three of them now formed a wall,
a united front. Beside him, Bailey pawed restlessly.

“You first,” growled the alpha.

Then they attacked.

The space was too small. I couldn’t get
enough elbow room to really do any damage with my branch. Beside
me, Cambria dodged a mouth full of teeth. As it spun to keep her in
its sights, drool flew from the wolf’s tongue and landed on my
arm.

On my other side, Cord staked one but it
wasn’t deep enough to entirely stop the thing. The yellow in its
eyes only intensified at the injury. Bright red blood dripped from
the open wound. Beyond each of them were the boys, a blur of fur
and gnashing teeth. They moved so fast I couldn’t tell who was who,
except for Bailey. His vanilla coat stood out against the myriad of
browns that surrounded him. Every few seconds I’d catch a glimpse
of russet fur—Wes—right smack dab in the middle of the chaos. From
inside the nucleus of the fighting, someone yelped. Then the growls
took over again.

I forced myself to focus on the enemy in
front of me—an even skinnier, snakelike version of the leader, with
eyes to match.

“If you don’t work for Miles,” I said,
alternating between swings and dodges, “then who?”

Instead of answering, the Werewolf continued
his attack. My feet moved in an endless loop: forward, backward,
regroup. Over and over, neither of us gaining ground against the
other. My swings were too limited to penetrate. I needed more
space. And the smell up-close, the overbearing stench of Werewolf
breath, made my stomach turn. To make it worse, I sensed the part
of me that wanted to shift struggling to get closer to the surface.
I couldn’t let that happen.

A hole opened up ahead, a break in furry
bodies. If I could get through without drawing attention, maybe
only one or two would follow. It would give me room to maneuver and
it would give me fresh air to breathe. The scent of wolf strained
my senses. My skin tightened and shrank, like any moment I might
push through and emerge as something else, something not human.

I went for it.

I slashed out as far as my arm would reach,
driving my opponent back with my elbow, and prayed it was enough.
Then, I ran.

“Where are you going?” Cambria yelled.

A few furry heads turned. So much for not
drawing attention.

“I need more room,” I yelled back, dodging
trees.

I didn’t stop until I’d put some distance
behind me. I found a relatively open space, planted my feet, and
whirled to face whatever followed me out. A wolf—a different one
than before—slammed into me, driving me back. I quick-stepped
sideways to stay on my feet and shoved him down. As his
needle-sharp claws dug in, my pants—and my flesh—unzipped as he
swiped down my thighs.

I repositioned the branch in my hand and
shoved it up and in. The wolf’s flesh gave with a sickening slurp.
I pushed again and its body went slack. Its claws retracted and it
slid into a heap on the ground. I yanked the branch free and danced
out of the way to avoid going down with it. Its form blurred around
the edges and I waited to see if it would shift back to human or
stay this way.

My own body shook with it, a strange sort of
shivering where I imagined my soul detaching itself from my
insides. The woods around me dimmed as if someone had turned down
the light switch and the sound faded out. My lungs squeezed
shut.

I let out a ragged, choking sound as I
gasped for air and all at once everything rushed back. Air whooshed
into my lungs so quickly I gagged, and the sound returned with a
roar in my ears. I shook my head to clear my vision as my eyes
refocused on the scene around me.

I caught movement and looked up. Two more
Werewolves approached. These were playing it cool, slowly stalking
me. They obviously thought their friend would take me down without
needing their help. The look in their eyes said they weren’t
disappointed they were getting a shot. Their yellow pupils glowed
as they crept closer.

My fingers tightened around the branch in my
hand. It dripped with blood, thick and slow to fall. I could see it
out of the corner of my eye. I could smell it too.

My blood heated. Adrenaline pumped through
me. My breath came faster, shorter. My fingertips and toes tingled.
I imagined them stretching, reshaping into something else. My mind
formed the image, almost as if it was instructing my body:
paws.

I squeezed my eyes shut. No. I was not going
there.

A yelp, loud and sharp, startled me. The
burning eased. The tingling receded. I caught a glimpse of vanilla
fur being shoved to the ground and then a russet wolf waded in,
snapping its teeth, catching a yellow-eyed wolf in its jaws.

I focused on the two in front of me. They
were closer. I could smell their breath. They exchanged a look,
full of confidence and the intent to kill. Then they leaped.

I managed to get one in the stomach with my
branch but had to pull it free and leap aside to avoid the second.
They were already on me again when I turned. I shoved the branch
out for another flesh wound before retreating safely away from
their teeth.

They came again.

I lost track of the
minutes, completely engrossed in the fight and glad the threat of
shifting had passed. I was me: a Hunter, a human. But I needed an
advantage, some sort of foothold. These
things
didn’t get tired, they just
drooled more profusely. They didn’t even seem winded yet, and still
they came. I spun and twisted to stay away from their open mouths.
I grunted with the effort of another stab, knowing it was only a
flesh wound.

Movement caught my eye, and I jumped toward
it, branch raised.

“Whoa, whoa, it’s me.” The familiar tone
took a moment to register. I looked into the wolf’s eyes and saw
they were deep brown instead of yellow.

“Derek,” I said, chest heaving.

I’d barely spoken when my twin killers
lunged again. I stretched and twisted away. I didn’t bother
bringing the branch up. It wouldn’t have done any good for all the
distance I had to keep. But then one of the wolves froze in midair
and was yanked suddenly back. It yelped and went down.

Derek’s teeth released their hold on the
wolf’s back leg and found new purchase around its throat.

One down.

With my attention on the one still coming, I
repositioned my body, suddenly grateful for Professor Flaherty and
her unceasing instruction in defensive maneuvers. I brought the
branch up, keeping my body clear of the teeth aimed at my rib cage.
In a move I never could’ve done without Wood Point, I rolled the
defensive block right into an offensive swing. My left-handed hook
collided with the wolf’s face just as the branch in my right hand
pierced flesh. I leaned into it, shoving harder as the wolf fell
away from me toward the ground. The branch slid easily for several
inches and then met resistance. I pushed once more and then
stopped. The wolf rolled its head side to side in silent agony
before letting loose in a howl-turned-wail.