The idea that he might have some hold on me as the pack leader of the Were who had infected me was more disturbing than anything else I’d dealt with these last few days, even taking into account when he’d had to help me dress.
Did that mean my choices were even more limited than I had previously suspected? If he wanted me to come to his side, would I be forced to go by some instinct? Driven by need rather than conscious choice?
Werewolves were pack creatures by nature. There were some who roamed alone. Few and far between, Chaz had once explained that the loners were often hunted by the packs so they could be assimilated or driven away, forced into the fringes of society. The lone wolves could not live in cities, as they were too likely to give in to their baser nature and hurt someone if they didn’t have a wild, untamed land to roam and hunt.
Was that what would happen to me? Would I be driven away? Or forced to be by his side, unable to make my own choice in the matter, and hunt beside people I’d much rather be hunting?
God, he was a bastard to leave me like this.
I got up from the chair, pacing, absently gnawing on the chocolate bar, hardly even noticing that my nose was gushing again. There was warmth on my face, trickling over my lips and onto the candy wrapper, but it wasn’t important.
I looked at the clock. 3:04 PM.
This couldn’t be. Hours to go, and I was nowhere near ready to know. I couldn’t turn. Not without having some answers first.
What if Chaz commanded me to come to his side like Max Carlyle once had? Would he be able to control me the way the vampires once did?
I should have spent more time this month educating myself. I didn’t know nearly as much as I needed to about Weres. All that time spent on the OtherNet, and I couldn’t even bring myself to look up the basics. Other than the symptoms of infection and a pending change, none of it had held my interest. Nothing about packs or the pack dynamic. What powers the alpha held over the lesser wolves who answered to him. I’d assumed I’d learn all those things from Rohrik Donovan and the Moonwalkers.
On the verge of panic, I tossed the now empty wrapper aside and reached for the closest lock, needing to get out of here and put as much distance between myself and the Sunstrikers as possible before moonrise.
My fingers tingled when I touched the silver. Real or imagined? Whichever it was, I couldn’t stand it, withdrawing and resuming pacing.
It didn’t matter anyway. Better sense, now rearing its ugly head, dictated that I couldn’t go. If I left, and I did change, I might hurt someone. At least in here, I wouldn’t do any irreparable damage to anyone but myself.
Also, distance might not matter when it came to the hold the pack leader had on his wolves.
Fuck me sideways. Why did it always occur to me too late what questions I should have asked?
I looked at the clock again. 3:10 PM. For the love of all that was holy, I’d almost swear time was going backwards, it was so slow. The wait, the not knowing, the anticipation of the pain of the change was killing me.
The bag. The belt was in my bag. I dived for it, forgetting the pain of my injuries and impending change, not even noticing it anymore. The front of my shirt was becoming soaked with blood that was... strange. Streaked with both black and clear mucus, all threaded through the normal red stuff. Nothing I’d read about online said anything about that.
Disgusting, whatever it was. The fever was creeping back on me, too. A chill traced along my spine as I closed my hand on the belt.
There was no response. Oh, God.
Then I remembered. Daylight. No wonder it was inert. The spirit was dormant until the sun went down. I thrust it back in the bag with a curse. Good God, I was far too shaky to think straight. Light-headed from blood loss or something. Nothing was coming together right. My thoughts were too scattered, too much fear racing through me to make sense of anything.
I hugged the leather to my chest and sat down on the ground, rocking back and forth on cold cement while I watched the clock. 3:12 PM.
Who was I kidding? I was a fucking wreck. It was pointless to try to focus on anything other than the clock while I was like this. To do anything to pass the time other than cling to the remaining shreds of my sanity and pray.
It had been a while since I’d done that. Somehow I doubted I had been one of God’s favorite people, considering how I lived my life and the mistakes I’d made. My vision blurred with tears as I bowed my head over the belt, clutching it close, and mouthed the words while blood spilled over my lips and dripped on the floor.
There are some things best kept private. What was said between God and me is one of them.
By the end of it, I felt a little better. Calmer. Maybe He was on my side, maybe He wasn’t, but it made me feel better to know I’d made my peace. No matter which road I walked, I was damned—but at least I felt like I had made an effort to repent.
Royce. Damn him. Had he known this would happen to me? Was that why he’d suggested making me a vampire, way back when, before I’d run from him? He was so fond of hiding things from me “for my own good” and playing things close to the chest. From our meeting by the park, I was positive he knew more than what he’d been saying.
If he’d bothered to take a few minutes to tell me what was happening, maybe I wouldn’t have made so many mistakes. That, too, was another thing to blame the vampire for. Even so, I would have found it preferable to be under his thumb than Chaz’s.
No matter what happened tonight, I was going to find Sara and set her free. She was only in this mess because of me. My penance would be to see to her safety, taking her out of the world of monsters—away from me.
That hurt. Knowing I’d probably never see her again after this. More than knowing what a monster I’d become, whether or not I changed, and all the death and misery I’d caused. She was more than my business partner—she was my best friend. The only person who had continued to believe in me, even after my life had gone to shit.
And where had it gotten her? Hiding in the shadow of a vampire. Because of me. If not for my mistakes, she would be safe and sound at home with her dogs, going out on dates with her boyfriend, Arnold the mage. Our business wouldn’t have gone under—without the two of us there to pay bills and field clients, no doubt we were too deep in the hole to ever dig H&W Investigations back out again. Her life wouldn’t have been ruined.
She might have been happy if she hadn’t had me riding along her coattails for so long. She and her relatives were rich. Far richer than mine. Yeah, she always said she liked to hang with my family, but I knew some part of her pitied us for how much poorer we were.
Well, no more. I would use the change to advantage. That boundless strength could be directed. I might be a monster, but I wouldn’t be mindless.
After tonight, Sara would be free of Royce—and free of me.
Chapter 25
It felt like a millennia before the clock read 5:50 PM. Per the almanac I’d looked at online, sunset was technically in three minutes. My skin was crawling with sensation, but I was going so crazy, I wasn’t sure if it was all in my head or not.
I’d been alternately pacing the cell, chewing on my nails when I wasn’t nervously nibbling at the candy I’d packed in my bag, and curled up in a ball on the floor. Sitting was worse. Nothing but rocking back and forth, arms wrapped around my legs to hold my shivering frame together so I wouldn’t fall apart into a million pieces. The wait was killing me.
Would I turn as soon as the sun set? The almanac said the moon had risen earlier in the day, so it was already somewhere above me, high in the sky. Every time I’d seen Chaz or one of the other wolves turn, it was always right after nightfall. Did it have something to do with the position of the moon, or the position of the sun?