32
I hurried upstairs and tore open the front door without bothering to check who it was. I leveled my gun, my finger tensed on the trigger.
Jonathan’s eyes widened and he raised his hands. “I brought back your bike,” he said.
“F*ck.” I dropped my aim and glanced out the door. My motorcycle was sitting in the driveway next to the car I had driven. There was no sign of any other vehicle.
“I walked it the rest of the way,” he said. “The truck is parked down the road.”
I slumped against the door frame, suddenly weary. This week was weighing on me more and more. I had no idea what I was going to do now. Everything was falling apart and I had no idea how I was going to put the pieces back together.
Instantly, I thought of the cop I had fed on. Did he fully recover? Was he still in the hospital? Did I really want to know?
“I take it your plan didn’t work out,” Jonathan said.
I didn’t look up. “No, I’m going to take him back to the Den until I figure something else out. I’m at a loss as to what to do.”
He reached out and lifted my chin with gentle fingers. My instincts told me to shoot him for touching me. Instead, I found myself leaning into his touch, almost savoring it. I wished he would drop his glamour. I needed to see his true face. Right then, I was tired of appearances. I wanted the truth.
“We’ll figure something out,” he said. His voice was gentle, soothing. “You don’t have to do it alone.”
“Yeah,” I said, wishing I could believe him. I’d done nearly everything on my own since I learned how. I couldn’t let anyone get too close to me. The more people I had to worry about, the harder my job became.
We just stood there, staring into each other’s eyes. It was clear he wanted to say something. I waited him out. Whatever I did or said would probably ruin the mood.
The moon was drifting lazily across a sky that would soon start showing signs of the coming dawn. I still had more than enough time to get Thomas to the Den and return home. I didn’t have to rush. Maybe I should finally give in and let someone else into my life.
Jonathan’s thumb ran across my chin and a small shudder ran through me. Would it really be so bad to have someone else to worry about, to have someone else worry about me? It might make all of this shit worth it.
“I was thinking,” Jonathan said. He cleared his throat and looked out into the night. Everything was still, quiet. “After this is over, maybe we could—” A crash from within the house cut him off.
I jerked away and gave Jonathan a terrified glance. I knew I still had a lot more time before the silver would wear off Thomas, but what else could have made the sound? Had Ethan dropped something? God, I hoped so.
I hurried toward the stairs and pounded down them, my heart hammering in my chest. I spun to the basement door and flew down the next flight just as fast. I skidded to a stop, eyes scanning the room, unable to believe what I was seeing.
Thomas was standing on one side of the room, panting. He was moving stiffly, as if the silver was still affecting him a little, but it wasn’t enough to keep him down any longer.
Across the room, Ethan lay on the floor amidst scattered pieces of metal and tools that had once rested on a shelf. Thankfully, the shelf had fallen to the side and not on top of him or he might have been seriously hurt.
Thomas’s head snapped my way and I froze. The gun was in my hand, but I couldn’t force myself to shoot him. He stared at me, eyes burning as if he was a demon himself. Had Beligral done something to him?
Jonathan shot past me, clothes tearing from his body as he leaped at Thomas. I shouted at him to stop, but he didn’t listen. He plowed into Thomas even as he shifted to wolf, bones and ligaments shifting to a new form. They went crashing against the table holding my weapons and hit the ground together, teeth snapping.
Ethan groaned and started to stand. He saw the wolf fighting Thomas a few feet away and his eyes widened and traveled to me. Blood was running down his chin from a busted lip, but he looked otherwise unharmed. As long as he stayed put, the most he might end up with were a few bruises.
Jonathan snarled and bit Thomas on the arm. My brother screamed an inhuman scream that sent shivers down my spine. It forcibly reminded me that Thomas wasn’t what he once was.
Beligral had been right. My brother was nothing more than a shell, an animal running on pure instinct. Whatever I thought I had seen in him was just his training coming through. He had done it so much when he was a Pureblood, it had become the only thing he knew.
Thomas swung his other arm and connected solidly with the side of Jonathan’s head. The force of the blow forced Jonathan’s teeth to tear free, ripping another scream from my brother.
“Stop it!” I shouted, wincing at Thomas’s pain. I knew he needed to be stopped, but I couldn’t bear to see him tortured any more than he already was. He had already been put through enough without making it worse.
My shout brought Jonathan’s head whipping my way. He looked at me through wolf eyes, and I could see the understanding and pain in his eyes. He knew what this was doing to me, but he had no choice.
Thomas used the distraction to pull away from Jonathan’s grip. He spun around the edge of the table, putting it between him and his adversary. He scanned all three of us, blood and froth bubbling from his mouth.
My heart broke then. That wasn’t my brother. I couldn’t think of him that way anymore.
And yet, I couldn’t shoot him. The mind might not belong to him any longer, but it was still his body. I couldn’t harm him, even if he was ripping out my throat. I just couldn’t do it.
Jonathan leaped toward Thomas. My brother ducked down and took the impact on his shoulder. Jonathan’s claws raked down his back, but he couldn’t get a firm hold. He slipped free and slammed up against the wall.
I started to raise the gun. If I only shot him in the leg, or even the back, it would be enough. I didn’t have to let this go on any longer. I could end this now. We could take him to the Den and put him where he would be safe. I didn’t have to be so f*cking weak.
But I was. My hand shook and I dropped my aim.
Jonathan was on his feet before Thomas could leap on him. He growled deep in his throat and I saw the bloodlust rise. I knew then he wouldn’t just incapacitate Thomas. He was going to kill him.
Thomas rolled over the side of the table, landing on his feet, just as Jonathan swung at him. He flexed his claws and growled in answer to Jonathan’s challenge.
Jonathan leaped. His feet hit the table and he swiped at Thomas with his claws. The flattened side of his head pulsed with his anger, with his bloodlust.
Thomas dodged the blow by skittering backward. He howled and snarled, urging Jonathan to come at him again.
That was when I saw his hand twitch toward the sword lying on the table.
“Jonathan, no!” I raised the gun, intent on firing before the worst could happen. I was too slow.
Jonathan leaped from the table. Thomas instantly seized the sword, and with a practiced hand, slid it from its sheath. He swung the blade upward, ducking down just as I pulled the trigger. My bullet sailed harmlessly overhead.
Blood splattered the floor, the wall. Jonathan fell motionless to the concrete, his blood running from somewhere beneath him. I couldn’t see how bad it was from my angle. Thomas raised the sword, blood dripping from the blade, poised to finish off the werewolf.
“Hey, poodle-mix,” Ethan shouted from his corner. “Your momma ate kitty litter.”
Thomas’s head jerked up, though there was no way he understood what was being said.
My entire world felt poised on the edge of crumbling apart for good. My life had been bad before. This was worse, so much worse.
Thomas leaped over Jonathan and charged straight for Ethan. He moved lightning quick, so fast I couldn’t get a bead on him. He brought his sword up and brought it down hard.
I screamed. My vision flashed red as he brought the blade arched downward. I was certain my hesitation had gotten Ethan killed.
Ethan’s hands came out from behind his back. There was a loud clang as the sword met a spare muffler he had grabbed from the fallen shelf. Ethan screamed and dropped it, clutching his hands close to his body.
Thomas raised his sword again. It was now or never.
I raised my gun, tears blurring my vision. Thomas howled, a call of triumph.
A completely inhuman sound.
“Good-bye, Thomas.”
My brother’s head whipped around. There was a split second when something in Thomas’s gaze changed. His eyes softened, a look of clarity came over him. “K—”
My bullet took him square between the eyes.
Thomas hitched once, blood pouring from the wound. All the air seemed to leave me as all life fled from his eyes. My brother fell to the floor, sword clattering loudly in the suddenly quiet basement.
Tainted Night, Tainted Blood
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