Broken Page 11


“That leaves the spell,” he said. “I’ll verify that.”

“Spell?”

“Xavier claims this letter is protected by a spell that will stop anything in human form. I want to be sure such a spell exists-or that it could exist. Paige or Lucas should be able to tell us that, or find someone who can.”

Diversion

WHEN WE FINISHED OUR RESEARCH, JEREMY HAD ME CALL Xavier to accept his offer and get David Hargrave’s new address. Clay and Antonio took care of Hargrave right away. And no, that didn’t mean they took him aside and gave him a stern talking to. Sometimes that’s all that’s required, but if a mutt catches the Pack’s attention, it usually means he’s gone beyond the “occasional slip-up” stage, and needs more than a warning.

They found Hargrave right where Xavier had told us he’d be. So we were ready to uphold our end of the deal. Yet it seemed that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. When I called Xavier, things weren’t going well on his end. Although he assured me he was just working out some kinks, I got the impression the buyer was waffling. When a month passed, with no word from Xavier, we figured the deal had fallen through.

Two more months passed. Spring became summer, then headed toward autumn. I was racing through the forest, hot breath billowing smoke signals into the cool night air. Adrenaline rippled through me with each stride. A glorious late summer night, capped off by a perfect run.

I lunged through a stand of trees and launched myself. In midflight, pain ripped through my abdomen, and I crashed sideways to the forest floor. When I tried to get up, machine-gun bursts of cramps doubled me over and pushed me back down.

I lay on my side, moaning, claws scrabbling against air. A burst of wetness under my tail. The smell of blood filled the air. Still racked by cramps, I managed to twist around. Blood pooled in the leaves under my backside. Fur clotted the blood; fur too dark to be my own.

Oh, God, no. Please-

A tremendous wave of pain ran through me, so intense I thought I was spontaneously changing back to human form. Then a horrible wet plop, as something fell onto the leaves.

At first I saw only a dark lump, black against the blood. Then in a flash, I saw everything-the tiny limbs contorted by their own Change, the head nearly perpendicular to the body, neck snapped, broken by me, by my Change, my selfishness, my thoughtlessness.

I screamed.

“Shhhh.” The wind whistled through the trees overhead. “Shhhh.”

I tried to move, but something held me fast, something warm and solid. My eyes flew open and I saw the full moon overhead, bright blue against the night. A full moon? Hadn’t it been a quarter moon earlier? I blinked, and saw two moons hanging over me.

“Elena?”

Another hard blink, and the blanket of sleep fell away. Clay’sface, twisted with worry, hovered over mine.

“What did you dream?” he whispered.

I opened my mouth, but only a whimper came out. His arms tightened around me. I started to relax, then the images from the dream flew back and I jerked away. I ran my hands over my rounded belly. Still there. So big. Too big. I was barely past the halfway point, and already people were stopping me in the supermarket to ask how many weeks-or days-I had left.

Jeremy insisted it was the wolf blood accelerating my pregnancy, but he was only guessing. No one knew. I ran my fingers over my stomach again, trying to feel a heartbeat or a kick, but knowing I wouldn’t. For as far along as I seemed to be, my baby was strangely quiet. Jeremy assured me he heard a heartbeat, though, and I kept growing, so I had to tell myself that was good enough.

Clay laid his hands over mine.

“I can’t Change anymore,” I whispered. “It isn’t safe for the baby. It can’t be.”

“If it wasn’t, then you wouldn’t need to Change while you were pregnant. You can’t have a species physically incapable of reproducing-”

“We are not a species!” I said, pushing myself up. “They are a species, not us. They inherited it. We were bitten. Don’t you get that? You’re infected, I’m infected, and no sane person with something like that intentionally tries to reproduce!”

I took a few deep breaths and concentrated on hearing that voice of reason in my head, telling me I was overreacting again, that everything would seem better in the morning. But my pounding heart drowned it out.

Goddamn it! Why couldn’t I get past this? After I’d Changed that first time, everything had seemed fine. But every Change since had been just as nerve-wracking.

Logically, as my pregnancy progressed without complications, my fears should have eased. Instead, they grew worse, like a shipwreck survivor swimming to an island, with each stroke thinking, “Oh, God, I’ve made it this far, please, please, please don’t let me fail now.”

As hard as I tried not to, every day I made new plans for our child-“I can’t wait to show him this” or “I have to remember to teach her that.” If something went wrong, I’d lose hopes and dreams and plans, and a baby that was already as real to me as if he or she were lying in a bassinet beside my bed.

“You’ll be okay,” Clay murmured. “You’re doing great so far, right?”

I took a deep breath. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so-”

He put his hand over my mouth. “You’re worried. Nothing wrong with that.” He lowered me down to the bed. “What did you dream?”

An image flashed. The blood, the clotted fur, the-

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