Dirty Blood (22 page)

“Duty calls.”

I made my way through the crowd hovering near the
food tables and decided to stick close to the wall, to scan the
room easier. I went half the length of the gym without spotting her
and sat down on the edge of the bleachers to wait, trying to decide
if I should just leave. I’d seen several of my classmates but no
one seemed interested in stopping to chat. Maybe coming alone made
me look pathetic. Everyone just smiled politely and kept
walking.

A high pitched giggle floated by and I turned towards
it in disgust. I knew that laugh anywhere and I was not in the mood
today. I expected to find Cindy standing there but when I looked,
the space beside me was empty. The giggle came again and I realized
it was coming through the bleachers, behind me. Cindy must be back
there with someone who didn’t mind the threat of a good old STD.
Gross.

I stood up to leave, but the sound of another laugh
stopped me. This one was deeper, definitely male, and all-too
familiar. I froze and then turned slowly towards the sound. I had
to bend down to peek through the slats in the bleachers to see them
and it was darker and harder to make out faces all the way against
the far wall, but there they were. Cindy Adams locking lips – and
other body parts – with George.

Apparently, his wounds were healing nicely; thanks to
all the attention her hands were giving his body, at the
moment.

I watched them in shock, disgusted but unable to look
away since I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Cindy had her back
to me, and her lips were stuck to George’s so hard, it looked like
she might be suctioning the life out of him. She pulled back,
smiling and giggling a little. That was when George noticed me. His
eyes widened and he pushed on Cindy’s shoulders, trying to get a
better look at me. I was surprised by the amount of pain I felt, as
his frozen expression transformed to one of instant regret.

Over these past few weeks, I’d missed our friendship,
but other than that, it felt like my feelings for him had faded. In
that moment, I realized, though they might be faded, they weren’t
gone. The wrenching pain of betrayal washed over me and it must’ve
shown in my face because George’s expression softened and next to
him, Cindy’s eyes glinted with an evil satisfaction as she finally
realized what was happening. That was it. Time to get out of
here.

I kept my eyes down, dodging dress shoes and hem
lines as a way to escape. I heard George call my name once, but it
was faint and it didn’t come again. I made it to the parking lot
without knocking anyone over and then ran for my car. The tears
didn’t start until I was safely inside but as soon as I’d shut the
door, they welled up and overflowed onto my cheeks and all I could
do was let them come.

~ 22 ~

When the worst of it was over, and I could actually
see well enough to drive, I got out of there. I wasn’t even sure
where to go, but I knew if I stayed here long enough, someone would
find me. If not George, then Sam or Angela – and I didn’t want to
face any of them. I’d texted my mother earlier that I’d decided to
go to the dance after all and she’d told me to have fun and she’d
see me at home. She was probably there now, which meant Wes was
gone – finally. But I didn’t want my mom to see me like this,
either.

I weaved through some back roads for awhile, still
unable to decide on a destination. I came to the intersection that
would either lead me home or back through my maze of turns. At the
stop sign, I swiped my hand across my cheek and sniffled, trying to
pick a direction.

The sound of a racing engine reached my ears, and I
glanced up to my rearview. A car came speeding up behind me and
screeched to a halt, inches from my bumper. I watched as the
driver’s side door opened, and a figure stepped out. I couldn’t see
him until he stepped into the glare of the car’s headlights, but I
already knew.

Wes strode up to my window and beat on it with the
side of his fist. His eyes were wild and his expression was fierce.
I hesitated, wondering how far I’d make it if I tried punching the
gas. Not far, I was sure. I sighed and unlocked the door. Before I
could even reach the handle, Wes had wrenched my door open and
pulled me to my feet.

“What the hell were you thinking? Where have you
been?” he demanded, his hands squeezing my shoulders. “Do you have
any idea how stupid that was? Anything could’ve happened to you.
What if I hadn’t found you first?”

His questions were rhetorical, I think, but I
attempted an answer anyway. “I went to the dance,” I said, trying
to sound angry and sure of myself. “I told you, I’m done.”

“Well, I don’t care if you’re done or over it or
whatever. I have a job to do, and you’re making it impossible!”

“Well, how about I make it easy for you? You’re
fired. Job over. Leave. Me. Alone.” My voice broke a little at the
end but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were still wild and a
little unfocused and even though he stood only inches from me, I
don’t think he really saw me. My words only seemed to make him
angrier.

“Stop saying that.” His fingers increased their
pressure on my shoulders, and I winced. It probably wouldn’t have
hurt if my muscles weren’t still sore and stiff from training, but
just that small amount of pressure was enough to cause a small shot
of pain.

My reaction seemed to finally get through to him
because he instantly released my arms and stepped back. He blinked
a few times and seemed to really be noticing me for the first
time.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I - Are you
okay?”

“I’m fine,” I mumbled, swiping at my cheeks again and
trying to figure out a way to just end the conversation so I could
get out of here.

He must have finally noticed how shaken I looked
because he stepped closer again, this time with concern. “Something
happened. What is it?”

“I’d like to go home now,” I said, keeping my eyes
down.

His entire body sagged and the energy seemed to seep
out of him all at once, like a deflated balloon. “Fair enough, but
we need to talk.”

I glanced up at him, warily. “About what?”

“Everything you said earlier. And other things.”

“What things?”

“I’d rather talk about it at home.”

“Well, I wouldn’t. I-” I halted, midsentence,
suddenly overwhelmed by the tingling shiver that ran up my spine
and spilled over into my arms and legs. “Werewolf,” I whispered,
but Wes was already scanning the darkness for movement.

“Get in the car, Tara,” said Wes. He stepped in front
of me, blocking me from the coming danger. He continued to stare
into the darkness of the trees that lined the road.

“No, I’m going to stay out here and help you,” I
argued.

“We’re not staying. Now get in the car.”

I started to move toward my car.

“No. My car,” he said.

“I can’t just leave it here.”

“Yes, you can. We’ll get it later.”

A rustle of leaves sounded from somewhere in the
forest, growing steadily louder.

“Dammit,” Wes muttered. “You’re driving.”

“Me? Why?”

“Stop asking questions and just go. I’ll be right
behind you.”

I didn’t have time to question him further because in
the next second, a dark gray wolf leapt through the trees, aiming
straight for me. Wes jumped forward to meet it, changing to wolf
form in midair.

Scraps of fabric rained down, but I barely noticed
them. I stared at the wolf that was Wes as it tackled the other
one, and they went tumbling, a tangle of teeth and fur. Wes was
easily twice the size of the other Were, and his reddish brown fur
glinted in the moonlight. He came out easily on top of the other
one and pinned him with his paws. Then he looked over at me, and
his eyes flashed.

“Go,” he said. “The keys are in the ignition. Don’t
go home. Follow the GPS.”

I nodded mechanically and then ran to his car. It was
still running and the GPS system glowed on the dashboard, telling
me to turn left. Through the windshield I could see Wes’ sharp
teeth as he snapped at the other wolf’s throat. It managed to twist
away and get free and it took off, racing for the car. Wes was on
him in half a second and drove him back, out of my way. Snarling
and grunting sounds came in through my open window, making the
hairs on my arms stand on end. Every part of me itched to get into
the fight.

I threw the car into reverse and backed up enough to
maneuver the Aston Martin between my own car and the two wolves
fighting it out on the other side of the road. I hesitated for only
a second, hating the thought of leaving Wes there, but then I
punched the gas. As I passed, the attacking wolf twisted his head
around and looked at me.

“Dirty Bloods,” he spat. Then Wes’ teeth made contact
with his throat, and I looked away as I sped off.

I had no idea where the GPS was leading me but I
followed it anyway, knowing it was the only place Wes would be able
to find me. And no matter how angry I might be, I had to know he
was okay. The directions it gave led me to a residential area not
far from my house, behind a shopping center. It was mostly
townhouses and small apartment buildings and the computerized voice
sent me to a small apartment on a side road that dead-ended at the
parking lot. I could hear the sounds of the highway on the other
side of the trees that bordered it. I wasn’t sure whether to go
inside or who else might be there, so I parked the car and locked
the doors, slouching in my seat to wait it out.

~ 23 ~

The minutes ticked by. It was getting late. My mom
would start to wonder about me soon. But I still had to know if Wes
was okay. At a sudden tap at the window, I jumped and bit back a
scream. Wes stood outside. His hair was disheveled and not in the
carefully styled way I’d always seen on him. He wore baggy jeans
and running shoes and a half zipped windbreaker. He looked… sloppy,
compared to his usual look. I hated that I found it completely
sexy.

I pushed the car door open and climbed out. “What
happened?”

“Not here. Come on.” He turned and headed for the
apartment building, sidestepping the front entrance altogether and
turning the corner that led around the back. A narrow sidewalk
provided a path and I scrambled to keep up.

I searched for any sign of injury on him as I
followed him around the building. I couldn’t see any, though, and
his movements were sure. I started to relax a little.

Around back was a wooden staircase that led up to a
second floor entrance. It creaked under our weight. Wes pulled a
key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, stepping inside and
holding it open for me to enter. I did, hesitantly. Wes closed and
locked the door and then flipped a switch. An overhead light came
on, flooding the space and I saw that it was a loft-style
apartment. The living room and kitchen were open and overflowed
into each other and the sparse furniture made it feel spacious and
bigger than it was. On the far left was a set of double French
doors and tucked in the right corner was an open doorway, revealing
a bedroom beyond.

Wes kicked his shoes off by the door and headed for
the fridge. He pulled out a bottle of water and began gulping it
down. His chest was bare underneath the windbreaker and I
remembered the pieces of clothing that had been ripped away when
he’d changed.

“Where did you get the clothes?” I asked, still
standing near the front door.

“I keep a spare set in the woods near your house. I
stopped off to change. Sorry it took so long.”

“Is the wolf…”

“He’s alive. But he won’t be back for awhile. I think
I broke his leg. And he probably has a torn windpipe.”

“You’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he assured me, before gulping more
water.

I wandered towards him and the bar that separated the
living space from the kitchen. “Where are we?” I finally asked.

“My apartment.”

My pulse sped up a little and my breath hitched. For
a moment, I forgot all about the fact that Wes had just fought
another Werewolf for me, or that I was mad at him, or that I’d
caught George making out with my mortal enemy in my high school
gym. All I could think about was that this was Wes’ apartment, his
private space, and we were alone.

I realized Wes was giving me an odd look so I did my
best to smooth out my expression. “So what now?”

Instead of answering, Wes set his bottled water on
the counter and came around to stand in front of me. He stared down
at me for a long moment and then, slowly, his arms came around me
so that his hands were tangled in my hair. He lowered his face
until it was inches away from mine and then stopped, watching me
with a question in his eyes. I held my breath and waited. When I
didn’t push him away, or move to stop him, he closed the distance
and pressed his lips to mine.

Heat coursed through me, and I felt my muscles go
deliciously soft. Wes’ arms tightened around me and he stroked my
hair, deepening the kiss. I could feel his body relaxing against
me. It was satisfying to know he was affected, too, and I felt my
arms go up around his neck, pulling him closer, not sure how long
it would last and not wanting it to end. I could smell him again,
woods and wind. His breath tasted tangy, and there was a hint of
animal still in him that was both exciting and scary.

Eventually, he pulled away, but he kept his hands on
my hair and face. He stared down at me with an intensity that took
my breath away.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do
that,” he said, his voice gravelly.

“When can we do it again?”

He smiled at that, but it was sad. “Soon, I hope. I
mean, if you still want to. There are some things I should tell
you, first.” He took my hand and led me to the couch, pulling me
down next to him. When he turned to face me again, the smile was
gone, but the sadness still lingered.