Kelly Meding - Wrong Side of Dead

“As opposed to what?”

“Execution for carrying the Lupa gene.”

I shuddered. “The Elders realize we’d never let that happen, right?”

“Chances are good it won’t come to that,” Astrid said, not acknowledging my implied threat.

“If the Lupa don’t return to your trap in the tea shop today,” Wyatt said, “I may be the only person who can draw them out.”

Not a fact I liked bringing up.

The quartet behind us had disentangled themselves. Ava slept on, but Aurora looked worn out, beaten down, and too damned tiny in a set of Brutus’s oversized sweats. But she stood straight, determined to look her kidnapper in the eye and show him the evidence of his defeat. In the two months I’d been dealing directly with him, Walter Thackery had always been three steps ahead of us.

Today, we’d finally beaten him.

All of the recovered kidnap victims were standing outside the storefront where Thackery was held—Dawn Jenner, Leah de Loew, and Lynn Neil, with Kyle and Jackson by their sides. Joseph walked with us and joined the group, everyone as overjoyed to see Aurora and her daughter as we had been. Baylor was there, with Elder Dane and a second gentleman I didn’t recognize. By his long, narrow face and tall, slim build, I guessed him to be the Equi Elder.

Turned out I was right. Elder Joshua Dannu was the youngest Elder I’d ever seen, maybe at his half-life point, and very pleasant considering the recent murder of one of his own. Both Elders went inside with us, escorted by Baylor and Astrid. I followed with Wyatt by my side and Phin close behind. After him came Aurora and the rest of our rescued Therians.

Thackery was still chained to his chair. A drying puddle of blood surrounded his feet, mostly around the rear of the chair. Marcus had mentioned the loss of three digits, and evidence of other torture dotted his bare chest and arms. They’d physically broken him, and yet, as he raised his head to see who’d come inside his private prison, some keen intelligence still glimmered in his eyes. He tracked our movements, his face revealing nothing.

We created a wall of sorts, momentarily blocking the grand surprise from view.

“It’s a party,” he said. “What’s the occasion? Letting me go?”

Phin laughed.

“It is a celebration, actually,” I said. “And we even brought party favors.”

“Oh? Paper hats and plastic whistles?” Thackery asked. “Even better. Proof of life.”

His expression shifted from bland interest to confusion. I stepped to the side, angling so Aurora could come forward, Ava tucked close beneath her chin. She glared at Thackery with murder in her eyes. His mouth fell open; his face went blank. The others moved in and circled around us, each person a testament to his failure.

“No,” he said.

“You lose,” Aurora said, her voice sharp as a blade.

“Anne. Oh my God, Anne.”

His late wife—the woman who’d been six months pregnant when she was infected by a Halfie. The woman for whom Thackery had sold his life’s work and cashed out his savings in order to save. The woman who’d ultimately been put down by a Triad because Thackery hadn’t been able to help her or to find his precious cure.

I’d seen a photo of Anne Thackery. She didn’t look much like Aurora, but I could see how Thackery could mistake them—he’d lost blood, been injected with massive doses of drugs, and endured a lot of pain in the last few hours.

Smart cookie that she was, Aurora played along. “Oh Walter, what have you done?” she asked in her soft, songbird voice.

“I did it for you,” he said. “For you and our son. All for you.”

“No, not for us. We’re dead. You did this for you, not for us.”

“I can find a cure, Anne. I just need more time.”

Aurora took half a step closer. “How many more people will you hurt in my name? How many will die in William’s name? How can you make this our legacy?”

His face crumpled, and in that moment I almost felt sorry for the son of a bitch. When faced with all of his mistakes and all of the lives he’d ruined for the sake of research, he finally understood. The zealot who believed wholly in the need to eradicate the vampires from the Earth was gone, replaced by a grieving husband and father who’d lost everything to a single, tragic bite.

“I’m so sorry, Anne,” he said.

“It’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. Please. I love you. You and William, you’re my life.”

She shook her head, and I saw the tears in her eyes. “The half-Blood infected us, Walter, but you—you chose to become a monster. You chose that.”

“Anne …”

Aurora turned and slipped back into the group, over to where Joseph waited to wrap her into a hug. Thackery pulled against his restraints, eyes glistening with tears, breathing hard.

“Anne, please,” he said. “I’m sorry, please. I did it for you … I’m so sorry …” He was lost in his grief and memories, finally understanding how wrong his path had been. “Oh God, my boys … my boys …”

He was worried about the remaining Lupa teens. Once he was gone, they’d have no one. It was a card we could play. I glanced at Astrid, who mouthed “Wyatt” at me. I nodded, glad she was on the same page. Wyatt seemed to be with us, too, because when he looked at me, he’d pulled enough of the wolf to the surface to once again color his eyes and elongate his canines.

I squeezed his wrist. He held my gaze a moment, then stepped forward without prompting. He stopped an arm’s reach from Thackery’s chair, so tense I thought he’d spontaneously sprain something. My angle gave me only a quarter of Wyatt’s profile, but I had a good view of Thackery’s face when he finally looked up and saw the man invading his personal space.

Confusion came first—with the puckered eyebrows and pursed lips—followed quickly by a horrified understanding. “I should know you,” Thackery said, “but I can’t seem to recall your name.”

“You don’t need my name,” Wyatt said. “Just take a good look. You say everything you’ve done is to preserve humanity, but look at the scorecard. You lost yours, and you stole mine.”

“You were bitten.”

“Yes, and not by a vampire. By one of your boys, who are now out there, unsupervised, free to infect more humans. Free to create more … whatever it is I am now. Is that how you preserve humanity? By destroying its protectors and by protecting its destroyers?”

“They’re just children.”

“Angry, abandoned children, raised by you to hate. Without help, they’ll continue to destroy until they’ve been hunted and killed.” The anger and regret in Wyatt’s voice stunned me. And I realized he wasn’t speaking just for the wolf inside him; he was speaking for himself and the furious teenager he’d been when his own family was ripped away. His emotional weakness had been exploited by the Fey, and he had become a perfect tool for them for ten years.

Wyatt didn’t want to kill the Lupa. He wanted to save them.

“They were just pups when Edwina brought me to them,” Thackery said, distant, reliving as he recalled it. “She told me what they were, how special and rare. She said they needed a father. All I wanted was their blood. Until the first time Charlie looked at me and said Da-da.” He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, and real tears tracked down his cheeks. “They killed Charlie this morning.”

“You exploited them for your experiments, and you dare be upset that they’re dead?”

“You don’t have children. You can’t possibly understand.”

Wyatt growled, low and deep. “I don’t have children, but I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. I’ve felt that glacial emptiness inside, when you’re certain your heart will never beat again. You’ll never feel warm and you’ll never look at the world with anything except contempt. I’ve lived it, too, more than once, so stop using your grief as a fucking excuse.”