Blooded (Page 5)

“Jessica.” My name came out in a staccato, my father’s sky blue eyes flashing a violet warning. Most wolves’ eyes spark gold with emotion, but my father’s eyes were a striking amethyst, unusual and completely arresting. “You’re delusional if you think I’d risk your life by sending you away with no plans in place and no adequate protection to speak of. It’s not going to happen. You’re too fragile to deal with the supernatural community. You don’t have any abilities or defenses. I’m not going to risk it, and there’s not a damn thing you can say to make that change.”

I leaned forward, narrowing my goofy firefly vision back into sharp focus with concentrated effort. “You’re the one who’s delusional if you think my life’s not at risk right here.” I tapped my index finger against his desk to accentuate my point. My father sat back on his chair and crossed his arms. “The way things have escalated in the past six months, I could be killed the moment I walk out of this office and there’s nothing you could do about it. Just like you said, I have no natural defenses to fight off the supe community—including werewolves. I have these.” I held up my hands again and wiggled my fingers. “And my brain.” The drugs had liberated my tongue. But, honestly, I wanted to settle this now. These were the facts. “I understand your distress about supernaturals, but they’ve never even seen me. And I’m not jumping continents; we’re only talking about a move two hours south. There are literally ten thousand ways we can figure this out if we put our heads together. I know we can find a compromise.”

Before my father could reach across the desk and choke the insolence out of me, James strode into the room. He took the chair on my father’s right, facing me. The tension in the room lessened a little, like a puncture in a tire, which was a relief.

I glanced at him, assessing his intent. His face was drawn and serious, his eyes focused on me. I slumped back in my chair. James was my father’s most trusted companion. He’d been so for too many years to count. When James appeared, it usually meant it was time to close down the argument. James would back my father and expound—which meant he’d say a few choice words—and then I’d be excused like an errant child. Case closed.

“So, James,” I started before he had a chance to say anything. “I’m assuming you’re going to agree with my father here—as per usual—but let me add something before I get sent to my room. If you agree with him this time, after everything I went through last night”—I leaned forward, the sudden movement causing a halo of lights to erupt in my field of vision, distracting me—“um…if you do that… You have…big…spots…and colorful stuff…floating around.” I ended lamely, blinking a few times, shaking my head and gripping the front of the desk. I pulled my focus back with concentrated effort and clenched teeth. “What I mean is, everything I went through last night will have been for nothing. You have to consider what it means if I continue to stay in this environment, and it’s going to be on your conscience if you agree with my father. You’re going to have to live with it.”

James’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Did you just say I had colorful spots?” His laugh mingled nicely with his Irish brogue as he spoke, giving it a nice chime. “I don’t think that’s quite accurate, but I’ve been called worse, that’s for certain. And to address what I think was your statement—no, I don’t agree with your father. I think it’s time for you leave the Compound. It’s not bloody safe for you anymore and that’s plain enough to see. If you stay here, it’s only a matter of time before you’re hurt beyond repair.”

Now it was time for my eyebrows to mingle with my hairline. I couldn’t shake my astonishment, so I left them up there for a few seconds. I’d known James my entire life, and he’d never once taken my side—and over the years there’d been ample opportunities for him to do so. “Wha?” I finally managed, shaking my head again. Please don’t let it be the drugs talking. “Can you please repeat that?”

“You can’t be serious, James.” My father slapped his hands on the desk. “You’re actually recommending I send my daughter down to the cities alone? Unprotected?”

“No, I’m recommending we find a plan that suits,” James stated evenly, his voice firm. “The wolves have grown more unsteady in the last few months—more than they’ve been in a long time. It’s becoming apparent Jessica is no longer safe here, and we cannot protect her at all times when she’s on Compound.”

“Then I’ll issue a stronger threat,” my father argued.

“In your direct presence the wolves will not attack; that we know,” James said. “But your authority will lessen while you’re away. And now that Jessica has openly challenged a wolf, they will view it as an invitation to do more harm.” And since I hadn’t won, they wouldn’t think twice about it. “The Pack is running on strong emotion, and it’s too late to rein it all in. It’s been building for nineteen years. The discontent has momentum, whether we like it or not. Keeping her here is too great a risk.”

Lesser wolves could not physically disobey a direct order from their Alpha when he was near, but when they were agitated enough, their emotions overrode their orders. They were living, breathing bodies with animal instincts. They weren’t robots. Unfortunately.

“Then they will swear blood oaths. Every single one of them.” My father’s voice held more than rage; it held both sadness and a ferocity I’d never heard before. Chills ran up my arms and I hugged myself.

James sucked in a sharp breath. “You cannot be serious.” He moved forward in his seat. “If you do that, the Pack will dissolve within a month. The wolves have always been restless having a female in their presence, and if you make them swear to accept her, upon death, they will flee rather than risk their lives.”

“Dammit!” My father pounded the top of his desk with his fists. It was solid mahogany, but it splintered. He knew James spoke the truth—but he didn’t want it to be true. Nobody was a better Alpha than Callum McClain, and everyone knew it. My father was a fair leader with a strong hand, and not all Alphas were equal—actually, far from it. Wolves followed their Alpha by instinct, but when overcome by extreme emotion, they became restless and confused. It would be disastrous to have them swear an oath of fealty to me resulting in instantaneous death if they stepped out of line. A blood oath would bind their blood to the Alpha’s, and vice versa. The words they swore would become a binding contract. If they laid a finger on me thereafter, they would be breaking their vow and they would die, my father’s blood extinguishing their life in some capacity that was still a mystery to me. My father stood up and paced to the windows. “There has to be some way to solve this that doesn’t include putting my daughter in more danger. My wolves will obey me! I am their Alpha.”