Dirty Blood (25 page)

“You sound like you know him.”

“All too well,” she agreed. She went back to her
pacing, and I waited for her to say more, but she didn’t.

I felt angry heat rise on the back of my neck,
spreading to my cheeks. She was treating me like I was still the
helpless baby she’d run away with, incapable of doing anything to
protect myself. “Well?” I demanded. “Are you going to tell me how
you know him? Or are you just going to keep lying to me?”

She glanced over at me, and something in my
expression made her stop. Her shoulders drooped. “He’s your uncle,
Tara. That’s how I know him.” I just stared at her, open mouthed.
Not the answer I’d been expecting. She went on. “He’s your father’s
brother. When I ran away with you, I changed our last names, even
got new paperwork. Your grandmother helped with that. Our real last
name, your father’s last name, is De’Luca. So, yes, I know Leo. And
he apparently knew about you, too. We can’t run, not if he’s
already found us.”

“Okay, so we’re related? I know family can be
annoying, but they don’t usually try to outright murder each
other.”

My mother wasn’t amused. “He’s been searching, Tara.
Don’t you see that? He’s obviously been looking for us all these
years, and now that he’s found us… This is not a joke.”

“You don’t think I know that? I’ve been the one
dealing with it these past few weeks. Not you. So don’t talk to me
like I don’t know the stakes, mother.”

“That will change. I’m going to deal with it.”

“Why. Why do you think you can do a better job of
dealing with it than I can?”

“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Tara. And I
can’t take the time to explain it all to you right now, either.
There’s too much to do and we don’t have much time.” She didn’t
even give me a chance to respond. Instead she turned to Vera. “I
thought about what you said. Make the call. I don’t have time for
anything else at the moment.”

“I’ll call right now,” Vera said, rising from her
chair and pulling a tiny phone from her pocket. She strode out into
the hall as she held it to her ear.

“Make what call?” I asked.

“Jack and Fee. Vera suggested I meet them and let
them continue to help protecting the house. With my knowledge this
time,” she added.

“So we’re not leaving?”

She sighed. “There’s no time. But I will have to call
your grandmother and figure out something, long-term. When was the
last time you saw Leo?”

I felt giddy with relief. We weren’t leaving, running
to some far off city to hide out, with no Cause and no Wes. We
would stay, and we would fight. Though I wasn’t sure if the last
part fit into my mother’s plan or not. “Monday, on the way home
from school, I sort of ran into him.” No need to worry her further
with the details, like almost dying from being bitten.

She nodded, absently, her eyes darting around, not
really settling in any one place, as her thoughts whirred. “Vera
said something about that. Said he told you that you didn’t deserve
the power of your blood,” she said.

“He’s talking about me being a Dirty Blood, isn’t
he?”

Her jaw hardened. “Where did you hear that word?”

I shrugged. “Some friends told me.
They
were
honest with me about my history,” I said, my voice taking on an
edge to match hers. I could afford to be angry again, now that I
knew we were staying.

Her mouth tightened. “Uh-huh and does this friend
have a name? Or something to do with the reason you were out all
night?” I opened my mouth to argue, but she put her hand up to stop
me. “And don’t say you were with Angela because I know you weren’t.
She called right after I found the Draven.”

“Did you say anything to her?”

“Of course not.” My mother gave me a scolding look.
“Give me some credit, Tara. I’ve been doing this a lot longer than
you have.”

“Right. You’ve been lying to your own daughter.
Angela should be a piece of cake,” I muttered.

I expected a reaction but none came. My mother
continued to stand, expressionless, obviously waiting for me to
answer the question. I thought about lying, but I knew Vera would
rat me out eventually. I could faintly hear her talking from down
the hall. She wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. I sighed. “His
name is Wes. He’s part of The Cause.” Then I realized something.
“You might have known his parents, actually. They were in The
Cause, too. Sebastian and Audrey St. John.”

My mother blanched and seemed to stop breathing.
“Wesley St. John? You’ve been seeing
him
?” She stared at me
like she’d never seen me before and then shook her head, hard. “The
only other mixed blood on the face of the earth, and you somehow
found him. Great.”

I bit my tongue to keep from muttering some nasty
retort about not so much finding him as him
saving
me, more
than once, which is more than I could say for her. I was really
trying to hold it together. “I take it you knew them.”

“Yes. They were killed the same night as your
father.”

I stiffened. “But you said he died in a house
fire.”

“It wasn’t a lie. Entirely. There was a fire the
night of the attack. They used flamethrowers to break the windows
and draw us outside.”

“So you lied. Again.” My fingers let go of the loose
thread they’d been fidgeting with, and my hands balled into fists.
I was losing my hold on my temper. She kept dropping bombs, and
adding my dad to the list of lies pushed me over the edge. It
seemed disrespectful, somehow, to his memory, that I’d believed
he’d died in a normal – okay, well normal compared to the truth –
house fire. How was I supposed to trust anything she said, now?

“Like I said, there’s just a lot that you don’t
understand about this. You need to tell me exactly what happened
when you saw Leo. Everything he said and did.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, my hands still
fisted. “No.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Why should I? You haven’t told me a single bit of
truth my entire life, until now, and you seem to think you can just
sit me down and offer up an excuse or two, and I’ll just accept it
and forgive you and get on with my day. Well, it’s not going to be
that easy.” I stood up and headed for the door.

“You’re no match for him, Tara,” called my mother.
When I didn’t stop, she added, “He’s responsible for the attack
that killed your father.”

That got my attention. I turned to glare at her, too
angry to even feel surprised by her last admission. I held her gaze
for a long time before saying, “You know, I think I liked it better
figuring it out on my own.”

“You need my help. You’ve never even been trained to
fight.”

“And whose fault is that?” I shot back. I marched
down the hall and straight out the front door, slamming it for
effect. Admittedly, I was pretty sure I hadn’t slammed a door at my
mom since I was like eleven but it seemed like the thing to do
right now. I stomped down the stone sidewalk, towards the street,
and then stopped short at the sight of Wes coming towards me from
the side yard.

He caught sight of my face and increased his speed.
“What’s wrong?”

“My mother-” I stopped, unsure how to explain, or
where to begin. I could feel frustrated tears forming at the
corners of my eyes and blinked them back.

“She knew you weren’t at Angela’s?” he asked, trying
to figure out the reason for my distress.

“Yeah, for starters,” I muttered. Behind me, the
front door opened. I didn’t turn around.

“Tara, we need to finish this,” my mother called. She
was attempting to hide the anger in her voice, probably hoping to
reel me back with kindness. It wasn’t working.

I turned on my heel and marched back to where she’d
stopped on the front step. I didn’t look back to see if Wes was
following. “And how would you suggest we do that?” I demanded.

My mother sighed. “For one thing, you could calm down
so we can talk about this.” Her gaze darted left to right and then
back to me. “And it would be best if we did it inside.”

“You care what the neighbors think? Really? What
about what I think? Or doesn’t that matter to you at all?” I said,
my voice rising. I knew I was probably making a scene, but I was
too angry to care. Every time I looked at her I felt betrayed.

My mom seemed to realize there was no hope of calming
me down with the current line of conversation, so she switched
tactics. “I’m Elizabeth, Tara’s mother. You must be Wesley,” she
said, sticking her hand out.

Wes shook her hand, looking completely confused, but
unwilling to ask. “Yes, ma’am. Nice to finally meet you.”

“Tara tells me you’ve been helping her figure things
out. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly.

“But you won’t have to trouble yourself any longer.
I’ll be taking it from here.”

“What?” I demanded.

“Tara, The Cause is dangerous, and so is associating
with any of its members. I can’t allow it,” my mother said. “It
would risk everything we’ve worked for, all these years.”

“No, it would risk everything
you’ve
worked
for. I had no say in any of it, remember?”

“Tara, I’m not going to argue with you. This is the
way it’s going to be.”

“But you’re meeting with Jack and Fee. You said you’d
let them help.”

“And I will. But you should keep your distance.”

“So, I just go back to pretending I’m human?”

“No, but I’ll educate you myself about what it means
to be a Hunter.”

“Well, I’m not just a Hunter, now am I?”

My mother blinked, momentarily at a loss for words.
Beside me, Wes cleared his throat, and I froze. I’d almost
forgotten he was standing there and, too late, I realized this was
probably not the best way to tell him that his suspicions had been
correct. He’d spent his entire life defending his mixed blood, and
his own life, because of it. He didn’t see it as a good thing. I
wasn’t sure how he would feel knowing I was the same.

“Tara?” Wes asked quietly.

I stared down at the ground, some of the anger
draining out of me. “My mom has informed me that she’s a Hunter and
my dad was a Werewolf.”

“What?” he asked, though I’m sure he’d heard me.

“I’m a Dirty Bl-”

“Don’t say that word,” my mother hissed.

Wes didn’t say anything and, finally, I made myself
look up at him. His expression was unreadable. “This is a good
thing,” I whispered to him. “You’re not the only one, anymore. We
can help each other.” I reached for his hand.

For a second his expression softened and I thought it
was going to be okay. But then, my mother cut in.

“Tara, I’m not asking anymore. House. Now. Goodbye,
Wes.”

I would’ve argued, but Wes stopped me. “It’s okay.
Go. We’ll talk later,” he said, quietly. Reluctantly, he let go of
my hand.

Behind me, I could hear my mother tapping her foot
against the porch step. “I’ll call you,” I told him. He just
nodded.

When he was gone, I turned back to find my mom still
standing on the front steps. She had her arms folded in front of
her and she was absently rubbing them from the chill. She was
watching me with a mixture of relief and determination.

“I’m sorry,” she began, when I got close.

“I really don’t want to talk about it,” I said. “Any
of it.” I walked past her, into the house, and headed for the
stairs. “I’ll be in my room.”

When I was on the second floor, out of sight, I
stopped and leaned back against the wall, listening. I wasn’t sure
if my mom was really going to leave me alone up here, and I wanted
to call Wes. A second later, I heard the front door click closed
and my mother’s footsteps faded down the hall.

I sank down on my bed and pulled out my phone,
excited to see a text message already waiting. I opened it and felt
the disappointment wash through me. It was from George, apologizing
over and over for what I’d seen between him and Cindy. I let out a
frustrated sigh, not bothering to respond. With everything else
that had happened in the past few hours, I’d all but forgotten
about the scene at the dance. I didn’t have the energy to respond
to it.

I dialed Wes’ number and waited. From below, my
mother’s voice trickled up to me. Her tone sounded harsh but it was
too muffled for me to make out what she was saying.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” I said. “I’m sorry about that.”

“What happened, exactly?”

“My mom found the Draven and called Vera. Apparently
they go way back. Vera came over and saw my pictures everywhere and
confessed everything to my mom. They were waiting for me when I got
here.”

“What did she say?”

“Everything.” I sighed and lay back on my bed,
staring up at the ceiling. “The short version? My dad was a
Werewolf, they were on the council, they fell in love, and I was
conceived.”

“So you really are…”

“One of each? Yeah.”

Silence.

“Is that okay?”

“It’s not great. I mean, it puts you in more danger.
Not just from Leo, but in general, forever. You’ll always be a
target.”

“I know. She knows Leo.”

“How?”

I took a deep breath. “He’s the one responsible for
the attack on the council.” When he didn’t respond right away, I
pressed on, wanting to get it all out there. “And he’s my uncle. My
dad’s brother.” It felt weird to say it out loud.

A long pause and then, “Do you want me to come
over?”

Footsteps sounded on the stairs. I silently cursed
her timing. I really wanted to talk about this, make sure he was
okay. His parents were dead because of Leo, just like my father.
"Uh, maybe later. Gotta go.” I clicked the phone shut just as my
door opened.

My mother stood there, glaring at me. “Who were you
talking to?”

“Wes.”

She stepped into the room and held out her hand.
“Give me your phone.”