Kelly Meding - Wrong Side of Dead

Wyatt blinked hard a few times, as if reminding himself of what exactly that entailed. I’d never seen him so muddled, not even when he was falling-down drunk. “Why?” he asked.

“I would like to measure the amount of the Lupa virus present in your saliva. I’d like to know how dangerous it is if you happen to bite someone.”

Wyatt considered that. “I think I’d like to know, too.” He opened his mouth without further prompting.

Dr. Vansis worked quickly, dropping each swab into its own test tube and capping it with a rubber stopper. “When you’re up to it, Mr. Truman, I’d like to do a complete physical.”

“Maybe later,” I said. He’d had enough. I could see it in the way he’d curled into himself and wrapped his arms around his middle.

“Of course.” He collected his tray and left.

Wyatt stayed huddled on the floor. Kismet hadn’t moved from her spot by the door. I was at a bit of a loss as to my next step. I needed to get out there and do something to find Ava and Aurora, but I couldn’t just leave Wyatt like this. He needed me.

I crossed to Kismet, who had yet to lose her shell-shocked stare. “Do you have any weapons on you?” I asked.

Her left hand reached around to the small of her back. “Gun, why?”

“Just checking.”

“Why is she here?” Wyatt asked. He didn’t sound suspicious or upset, just curious.

“She’s my backup,” I replied. “I figured if someone had to kill you for killing me, you’d want it to be a friend.”

“Oh.”

Kismet’s glare left little doubt that she was not pleased with my logic.

“Evy, please tell me what’s going on,” he said.

I sat down across from him, keeping us on even ground. “We captured Thackery and we found most of the kidnapped Therians. He was using their blood to stabilize his half-Bloods. It’s why Felix was so rational.”

“Therian blood. Seems so simple.”

“It does, only he says they didn’t drink it. He injected them with it, which is what made the difference.”

“But he killed Jenner.”

“Yes. Because we killed his wolves.”

Annoyance flickered across his face. “Right. But you’re still looking for Aurora and Ava?”

“Yes. Thackery had them in a different location. His three surviving Lupa have them, and he says that they’ll be killed if Thackery isn’t released by seven o’clock. And we can’t do that.”

“Seven o’clock today? What time is it?”

“Getting close to three, I think.”

“Damn.”

“They could be anywhere. Thackery isn’t talking. The Assembly is going to want him dead no matter what, and my goddaughter is out there, Wyatt.” My voice cracked. “I don’t know what to do.”

He closed his eyes and pressed both palms against his temples, like someone warding off an impending headache. “Part of me is glad the Lupa have the Coni women, and I hate that, Evy. Shit!”

I hated hearing him say those words. “But I know the stronger part of you wants them returned safe and sound. That part of you would never wish harm on a woman and her child.”

“Don’t be so sure.” He looked at me with haunted eyes. “Don’t forget Rain. Don’t forget the people I’ve hurt to make the Triads work.”

Rain had been a terrible mistake. Four and a half years ago, the young were-fox had been ordered executed for falling in love with a human. A human Hunter who’d been one of Wyatt’s. Wyatt had taken the execution order to protect the other Triad Hunters from knowing such an order had been placed, and her death still haunted him. Her only crime—falling in love.

Sometimes we all commit that particular crime.

“You didn’t want to kill Rain.”

“Maybe they don’t want to kill Aurora and Ava.”

My mental brakes ground to a halt on that one. It had never occurred to me that the Lupa would be anything except loyal, ready to agree with anything Thackery said and to do his bidding, no questions asked. “But they will, unless he tells them to stop.”

“Yes. They’re his. They’ll listen.”

“Not by choice.”

“No.”

“The Lupa are fiercely independent,” Phineas said, his voice an unwelcome interruption. He’d scrubbed himself of the black paint, remaining shirtless in his blue jeans and sneakers.

I expected Wyatt to growl or snarl, maybe even jerk to attention. Instead, he gave Phin a cool glare, then nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I feel that, a rebellion against rules. Against order. An embrace of chaos.”

Embrace of chaos—the very opposite of Wyatt Truman in every way.

“Is that why the Lupa were hunted?” I asked. “Their independent nature meant they’d never submit to the rule of the Assembly, and they created chaos everywhere they went, and so were ordered to be executed?”

“Yes,” Phin said. “Thousands of human lives were saved.”

“By killing Lupa,” Wyatt said.

“Yes.”

“My people.”

“You are more human than Lupa, Wyatt Truman,” Phin said. “With a human woman who loves you very much. Do not allow the Lupa in you to drive her away.”

And then came the growling I was hoping to avoid. “I thought you’d be cheering me on to embrace the wolf,” Wyatt replied.

“Why is that?”

“You want her.”

I would have laughed at the absurdity of his logic if I didn’t think it would piss him off even more. He was actually jealous of Phin. My temper flared to life. “You asshole,” I said.

Wyatt blinked, stunned into silence by my challenge.

“After everything we’ve been through,” I continued. “Four years in the Triads, losing Jesse and Ash, my resurrection … after Olsmill and Call and Thackery and getting blown up twice—no, three times … after what we did in that cabin with our combined Gifts and falling in love with you—you asshole!”

Maybe it was my tone, maybe the short trip down Memory Lane tripped something in his mind, but Wyatt’s entire expression softened. Shards of black flickered behind the silver in his eyes, and his elongated canines seemed to shrink just a hair. His humanity was peeking through, and I wasn’t even done yelling.

“You really think that you dying would send me running into Phin’s arms for comfort? You think his master plan is to see me completely shattered by your death, so he can be there to pick up the pieces? You think that little of both of us? Fuck you!”

Wyatt shut his eyes with a pained whine and turned away, covering his face with his hands. I wanted to scoot closer and hold him, try to comfort him—but something kept me still. Allowed him to work through the storm of emotions churning inside so he could battle the wolf. So the human side of him, the side I loved and wanted back, could rise to the surface.

We waited, silent, as he shuddered and shook. And finally went still, save the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed deeply.

He looked up, hands falling away from his face. The canines were back to normal, though the puncture wounds in his lip remained. His eyes had returned to their mostly black shade, with a faint ring of silver around the outside of the iris—a potentially constant reminder of his new dual nature. He blinked hard, gazing around, both curious and chagrined.

He ran his tongue across his teeth. “My vision is still different.”

“Well, your eyes aren’t completely normal,” I said. “How’s the wolf?”

“Subdued for now. I’m so sorry, Evy.”

“Forgiven. I’m just glad that yelling snapped you out of it, instead of making it worse.”

“She was unlikely to make it worse,” Phin said. “If memory serves, the Lupa were a matriarchal society, the Packs led by an Alpha female and her chosen mate. If Wyatt’s wolf understands that Evy is his mate, he’ll obey her instinctively.”