Blood Rule (Book 4, Dirty Blood series) (33 page)

The lines around his eyes tightened by
the smallest degree and I knew I’d hit the mark. “I suggest you
heed Miss Lexington and stop this. Before it’s too late,” Steppe
said.

I tensed at the threat contained in
those last words—and gave up trying to contain my wolf. I didn’t
care if he was within the law. He’d manipulated it to fit his
crooked agenda. He needed to be stopped. So far, a political
takedown hadn’t worked. Maybe it was time for a more physical
effort.

My clothes shredded as I shifted form.
The ripping sound had become familiar to me but Victoria yelled and
jumped back, flicking pieces of my shirt from her arm and hair in a
panic.

In the in-between from human to
animal, I forgot why I’d held back at all. Why I’d even tried to
reason with Steppe. At the sight of my pack in cages, my temper
flared and the animal in me took over. As soon as my four paws hit
the ground, I ran straight for Steppe’s throat.

Mr. Lexington jumped in front of me
and Victoria screamed. The shrillness of it made me wince and I
lurched sideways as Mr. Lexington produced a sharp stake. It
stabbed the space where I’d stood a second ago, making a whistling
sound as it arced through the air.

The weapon surprised me. He really was
back to being a Hunter.

I came around from the other side, but
Mrs. Lexington was there with a stake of her own. I dodged it as
well but I had to retreat toward the wall, boxing myself in. I
needed help. Backup. I knew better than to expect Victoria, but
Logan—

“
Logan!” I
growled.

I couldn’t spare a glance. I hoped he
heard me. And chose me. Not a guarantee when his own girlfriend’s
parents were trying to kill me while she watched.

Another stake whipped through the air.
I twisted away and snapped my teeth at the slender wrist that held
it. Victoria yelled again.

In the distance, I heard another
high-pitched wail. At first, I thought it was someone else yelling,
or maybe Victoria freaking out again. As it got louder, I
recognized it was a police siren. Or maybe three.

In the haze of the fight and my wolf’s
temper, I couldn’t understand why Steppe would call
civilians.

And then I remembered.

“
Wes, get out of here,” I
yelled. It came out broken and mumbled as I dodged left and came
around from behind Mrs. Lexington. My teeth nipped her in the back
of her thigh. I didn’t know whether I’d drawn blood or not. Or if
it’d hurt her. I hoped it burned like hell and she’d back
off.

She didn’t. If anything, when she
faced me again, her expression was more grave, more
determined.

“
Logan!” I called
again.

“
Right here,” he said,
startling me when the sound of it came from close behind me. I
glanced back and found him engaged with Mr. Lexington, blocking a
jab that would’ve no doubt done damage to my rear end had he not
been there to stop it.

Across the room, Victoria had gone
quiet. I wasn’t sure what that meant; I couldn’t afford to look. I
faced Mrs. Lexington again, both of us lashing out and dancing back
in tandem. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Steppe. I didn’t
want him slipping out while I was preoccupied. But he stood back,
feet planted, arms crossed, looking completely
unconcerned.

I wanted to bite him so badly my jaw
ached.

The sirens grew louder.

I still had no idea if Wes had moved.
I jumped back three steps, trying to gain ground, and glanced
behind me. Wes sat on the floor looking dazed. Victoria was bent
over him, speaking too low for me to hear. He didn’t seem to be
responding to her.

The air whistled as something cut
through it. I turned back but wasn’t fast enough. Something pricked
sharply against my side. A human arm hovered in front of me. I bit
down and had the satisfaction of finding purchase on flesh. I bit
harder. My teeth sank through.

Someone cried out—Mrs. Lexington—and
the arm retracted. She backed away. I moved to follow but a burning
ripped its way along my side. I stared in momentary confusion at
the metal protruding from my fur. “She stabbed me,” I said, more
shocked than anything.

“
Tara, get him out of
here,” Logan called. He was still engaged with Mr.
Lexington.

I hesitated, itching to retaliate,
wanting to help Logan, needing to get Wes out, and hating to leave
the hybrids behind.

The sirens were loud now. There was no
doubt left in my mind they were headed here. Or already
outside.

The caged hybrids were going nuts.
Growling, whining, some even howling to the tone of the wailing
outside. I couldn’t think. All I saw was the gleaming metal
protruding from my flesh.

It hurt now. More than the pain I’d
experienced when Leo bit me. More than the damage Chris had done
when Olivia sent him after me. More than pain I’d ever experienced.
My legs gave underneath me. I fell.

My chin hit the ground as a uniformed
officer burst through the door.

The scene before me felt set in slow
motion.

The officer’s head swiveled left to
right, taking in the scene. His brows knitted in confusion at the
odd scene before him: cages upon spiky cages of yellow-eyed
wolves—not to mention one cage containing a naked man, beaten half
to death and foaming at the mouth in fury at being locked inside.
Logan and Mr. Lexington locked in a lethal dance, a metal rod
clutched in Mr. Lexington’s white-knuckled hand. Wes and George
sitting dazedly in the middle of the concrete floor, a gorgeous
blond with trails of black mascara running down her face bent over
them. She took turns pressing her palm to their forehead and
lightly slapping their cheeks. And Steppe—the master of
ceremonies—standing back with arms folded, watching the show he’d
created.

The uniformed officer waved a hand and
men rushed in behind me, all armed with guns pointed at one of us.
Everyone but Steppe. The head uniform went straight to him, calling
out. I couldn’t hear what he said but Steppe nodded at whatever it
was and extended his hand.

They shook.

It struck me as ironic and infuriating
that out of all of us, Steppe seemed like the stand-up citizen in
this picture. The one the cops had apparently chosen as innocent at
first glance. It made me hate him even more.

If you were guilty, you should be
required to look it.

A wolf in sheep’s
clothing.

I couldn’t be bothered to care where
that last thought had come from.

I tried to stand but every muscle I
used burned. This metal …

The uniform was giving orders,
pointing this way and that. Mr. Lexington and Logan had already
been separated. Logan was kicking and thrashing against the
uniformed officer holding him. It surprised me to see him so worked
up. I followed his gaze and saw the reason. A bulky-armed uniform
held Victoria tight against him while he fussed at her to “shut up”
and “hold still.” She kicked and bucked against the pressure but
the man’s grip held, though barely.

Logan looked furious. He yelled words
I’d never heard him use before. No one listened.

Steppe appeared above me, a looming
shadow in a business suit. He stared down at me in cold curiosity.
“I told you to stop this before it was too late,” he
said.

“
But I’m immune to metal,”
I said when I found my voice.

His lip curled back. “Your body may be
immune to metal’s supernatural components, but you still bleed like
the rest of us.”

My head slumped back to the floor. Wes
had said knowing about my immunity would make me reckless. I didn’t
want him to be right. I hated when he was right.

God, it hurt.

Steppe bent closer and I flinched. He
ignored my reaction and studied the wound and the stake that still
protruded. Someone called his name and he rose. I looked away. If
he was going to jam the stake into my heart, I didn’t want to
watch. Across the room, I saw Wes being hauled to his feet, his
arms behind his back as handcuffs were snapped into place around
his wrists.

The policeman shoved and Wes stumbled.
My eyes burned with hot tears.

Wes recovered his footing and trudged
on. He turned his head and met my eyes. There was no attempt to
break free or shift or anything else that could’ve saved him. His
eyes were empty as he trudged toward the exit.

And then he was gone.

“
Load her up.”

Steppe’s voice brought me back. Hands
roamed over me, looking for purchase, and then I was half lifted,
half dragged onto some sort of flat surface. There was some
jostling as I was lifted into the air and then I steadied as they
carried me in the opposite direction as the door I’d seen Wes leave
through.

I craned my neck, trying to catch a
glimpse through the crowd, some opening or hint of rescue. It
couldn’t end like this. Wes arrested. Steppe winning.

I tried searching for Emma or even
George, but there was nothing. My mind was empty of any awareness
except the pain.

I lifted my head an inch off the
platform and then let it fall again. Uniforms were everywhere. I
couldn’t see a thing.

One face blurred into focus and my
heart seized.

“
Grandma?”

The word came out mangled and muted
through the burning pain in my side. I doubted my handlers
understood me. They must’ve viewed it as some sort of rebellion
because a hand closed over the stake, twisting it sideways inside
my shoulder.

I howled and jerked as the burning
intensified. It felt like lava, liquid pain being inserted into my
veins. I couldn’t, I couldn’t—

“
Don’t fight it. It won’t
stop what’s coming.”

Steppe. Still here. Gloating.
Winning.

“
I will beat you.” The
effort of my words sapped my remaining strength.

He laughed, the sound brittle and
cocky and tinny in my ears. “Not today. Today is mine.”

The lights overhead flickered and
winked out as the door closed behind us. Darkness pressed against
more than my vision. Whatever Steppe wanted me for, he had me
now.

Book 5 coming in 2014

*****************************

As with any book, the list of thank you’s
due is extensive. It takes the varying talents of many people—some
would say a murder of friends—to ready a story. I intend to name a
few.

First, to my soul mate best friends,
Jennifer Sommersby and Angeline Kace, who are far from fictional
and talk me down off high places where monsters lurk. You two are
priceless and I love you.

To my Hotshots (you know who you are), I
would be lost without you. Your constant chatter and loving threats
that I hurry up and write the next installment for Wes and Alex are
the exact motivation I need. I appreciate every tweet and reshare.
Pimpin’ ain’t easy.

To Kelly at Inkslinger for her inspiring pep
talks and Jessica for her mad marketing skills. Her response time
to my texts and emails rivals a 911 operator. To my many author
friends, Tiffany King, Desiree DeOrto, Adriane Boyd, Carol and Adam
Kunz, Chelsea Fine, Kate Copsey, Heather Self, who make writing a
community instead of a solitary existence, I owe you my sanity. And
sometimes my insanity.

I am beyond lucky to have those in my real
life who inspire and encourage me to continue to pen new worlds.
Brooke and Austin, you give me purpose and make it so much fun to
dream. To Krystle, the President of my Master Mind group, thank you
for your unwavering support and enthusiasm for my dreams. You keep
me pointed forward. And to Dylan, who tells me everything is going
to be okay in a way that makes me believe him. I owe you all the
small moments where I put aside doubt and pursue passion with my
whole heart.

Finally, to my readers, to whom all my
stories are truly dedicated. Your excitement and willingness to
discuss my characters as if they are real (because they are, duh!)
are so thrilling. I wake up every morning looking forward to
talking to each of you. Thank you!

Heather Hildenbrand
was born and raised in a small town in northern
Virginia where she was homeschooled through high school. She now
lives in coastal VA, a few miles from the Atlantic Ocean, with her
two adorable children. She works from home, part time, as a
property manager and when she's not furiously pounding at the
keyboard, or staring off into space whilst plotting a new story,
she's lying on the beach, soaking in those delicious, pre-cancerous
rays.

Heather loves Mexican food, hates
socks with sandals, and if her house was on fire, the one thing
she'd grab is her DVR player.

You can find out more about
her and her books at
www.heatherhildenbrand.blogspot.com

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