Kelly Meding - Wrong Side of Dead

But he could. And I knew he could.

“Make a deal with you?” I asked, echoing those fateful words spoken to Thackery nearly two months ago.

Wyatt blinked. Started to shake his head, then stopped. He pressed his forehead to mine, the intense heat making me sweat. This close I smelled his own fear—the sour scent of perspiration, mixed with something even more primal. He inhaled deeply through his nose, held it, then expelled it hard through his mouth. Blood-scented breath brushed my lips, and I shivered.

I hated every fucking thing about this, and nearly jumped out of my skin when he said, “What?”

“I want a week. At least a week to help you. Isolation, chains, whatever you want, but I want you to try with me. Try to beat this.”

“Why?”

“Because I love you, you jackass.”

He raised his head and gazed at me with a chaotic mix of pride, love, terror, and pain. “I thought I was a dumbass.”

“Dumbass, jackass, any kind of ass.”

He smiled. “I love you, Evy. I’m sorry for turning my back on you.”

“You had every reason. I was a coward.”

“No, I was wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter now.”

He seemed to realize his exact position over me and made a surprised sound caught somewhere between a grunt and a squeak. He climbed off and scooted back until he could lean against the wall. The thin gown had twisted immodestly, but he didn’t seem to notice the draft. I sat up slowly, careful not to show my utter relief at being free. I hated being held down like that, by anyone.

Wyatt traced a finger across his teeth. “How can you look at me and not see a monster?” he asked.

“Because I didn’t fall in love with your black eyes and straight teeth, Wyatt Truman,” I said, recalling his own words to me so many months ago. “I fell in love with your confidence and your loyalty and your ability to piss me off in five words or less. In the way you can see the logical side of things that I usually can’t. All of that is still there, Wyatt. It just has to work a little harder now.”

He gave me a wry smile. “I’m not you, Evy. I won’t heal from this.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You’ll risk it?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t—” He cleared his throat, eyes suspiciously bright. “I don’t know if I can live like this. Or if I want to.”

Goddammit, I was not going to cry. “Give me a week. Please.”

“What if they don’t give me a week?”

“They who?”

“The Assembly.”

A blast of anger flushed my cheeks. “Fuck the Assembly, if they think they get to dictate your fate. Their decision to eradicate the Lupa centuries ago is what led us to this. They don’t get to decide if you live or die.”

“Don’t be so sure, child,” a deep, vaguely familiar voice said behind me.

Wyatt froze, tensed, hands splayed against the wall on either side of him. I twisted around and onto my knees, one hand automatically reaching for the knife still strapped to my left ankle. I stopped before I actually grabbed it, once I recognized the faces standing in the doorway.

Flanked on either side by Astrid and Marcus—each wearing identical expressions of disgusted surprise—was Elder Marcellus Dane of Felia. He was the one who’d spoken.

2:40 P.M.

“Don’t be so sure of what?” I asked as I stood up. Kept myself between Wyatt and the door.

Elder Dane ignored my question, his attention on the man crouched behind me. He seemed more fascinated than upset, but I’d learned a long time ago to never underestimate the poker face of a Therian. “Remarkable,” Dane said. “There has not been a recorded human infection by a Lupa in centuries.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“Stone,” Astrid said sharply. A warning to stop being so snippy with a Clan Elder. One who’d just indirectly threatened Wyatt’s life, and that was not okay with me.

“Wyatt’s broken no Therian laws,” I said. “His life isn’t up to you to save or end.”

“On the contrary,” Dane said, “his infection by a Lupa makes this an Assembly matter by default.”

“Because the Assembly ordered the extinction of the Lupa Clan five hundred years ago?”

“Yes. They were a destructive, bloodthirsty Clan then, and their habits have obviously not changed. Your human now carries their genes in his blood, and it must not be allowed to spread.”

“You don’t know that he can spread it.”

“Half-Bloods are just as infectious as full-Blood vampires.”

“He’s not a vampire, and neither was the bastard who bit him.”

Astrid and Marcus shared a look behind their Elder’s head. I didn’t know what it meant, but at least they weren’t rushing to Dane’s defense.

“You would take the risk of him infecting other humans?” Dane asked.

“I would take the risk of him infecting me,” I replied. “He’s fighting the effects of the wolf, and he’s strong enough to beat it. We just need time.”

“Time is in short supply of late.”

“I’ve noticed.”

He quirked a bushy eyebrow. He was either annoyed at being talked back to, or amused at the novelty of it. I imagined most Elders were used to the whole “I say jump, you say how high” method of giving orders.

“Look,” I said, “let Dr. Vansis run some tests, at least. In the meantime, I will keep him isolated.”

A moment passed, and then Elder Dane nodded. “I admit, I did not come here prepared to pass judgment on this matter,” he said. “In the absence of an appointed voice of the Assembly, I have volunteered to act in that capacity.”

Fancy way of saying that with Jenner dead, Dane got the job. “So you’re here about Thackery.” And considering the fact that both Astrid and Marcus were here, instead of down the hall, meant only one thing.

“You’re done questioning Thackery?”

“The exercise proved fruitless, even with the administration of Sodium Pentothal,” Marcus said. “He gave up nothing of use, despite the loss of three fingers.”

Ugh. Instead of a sense of poetic justice, the knowledge disturbed me. “So we still don’t know where he’s keeping Ava and Aurora?”

“No. Just that they are with the three surviving Lupa children.”

“What about the vampires? Did anyone—”

“Phineas informed us of the vampire Isleen’s theory. We’re looking into the name Matthew Goodson and any connections to Thackery.”

“Nothing from Thackery on that?”

“Just gloating over how perfectly his plan to infect them worked.”

Fucker .

“Don’t assume,” Wyatt said. His interjection stole everyone’s attention. He was concentrating on the floor, conjuring up the words. Keeping his thoughts together. “Don’t assume he’s finished.”

“He’s in custody,” Elder Dane said.

“The hybrids at Boot Camp. The sinking ferries.”

“He means that Thackery likes redundancies and backup plans,” I said. “Just because we have him here doesn’t mean there’s not something out there waiting for a signal. Something bigger.”

“Something capable of infecting the other vampires?” Marcus asked.

“Exactly.” The thought of it chilled me. I also couldn’t believe that I hadn’t thought of it sooner. “He has three Lupa soldiers left who could be out there doing anything for him. Even flipping a switch on a countdown. He said that something was already in motion that we couldn’t stop.”

“It’s an interesting theory,” Elder Dane said, not convinced.

“We’ve dealt with this psycho before,” I said. “He doesn’t do anything half-assed, and he doesn’t walk into a room without an exit strategy.”

“We should inform the royal Fathers,” Astrid said. “If they decide there is a threat, it might be safer for them to evacuate the city. At least for the short term.”