THIRTEEN
MY FINGERS DUG INTO his shoulders as I stared at him,
unable to speak, not believing what I’d just heard. I could barely
recognize my brother’s scent beneath the other vile odors that
covered him. Filth, blood, and the sharp tang of fear.
Shay crouched beside
us. “Ansel, hey. Take a breath. Everything is cool.”
The knot of sickness
tightened when Ansel began to laugh. I’d never heard a sound so
chilling. Harsh and devoid of joy.
“Is it, Shay?” he
asked, smiling that horrible smile again. “Is everything
cool?”
“Ansel, what’s
wrong?” I pushed back the hair that was caked on his
forehead.
He swatted my hand
away, trying to pull himself out of my arms. “Knock it off. Just
let go.”
My grip on him only
tightened. I couldn’t make anything of his strange behavior. He
pushed at me, but I didn’t move an inch.
Shay’s eyes widened
as he watched Ansel stop fighting. He stood up, face paling. “Oh
no.”
I glanced at him.
“What?”
Shay shook his head,
his gaze resting on Ansel. “I don’t even know if it’s possible, but
I think—”
“You think, chosen
boy?” Ansel looked up at Shay with a shudder. “You know. Of course
you know.” The smile vanished, replaced by a blank, defeated
expression.
“What are you
talking about?” I whispered.
“I—” He lifted his
eyes to mine. For a moment rage flared within his gray irises,
making them flash like a thundercloud full of lightning, but then
the light was gone, replaced by a vast fog, thick and
hopeless.
Monroe took a
cautious step toward us. Ansel didn’t react. He stared ahead,
looking at nothing in particular. Monroe knelt beside him,
frowning.
“Is he
hurt?”
“I don’t know,” I
said, keeping my eyes on Ansel. “Baby brother, please. Talk to
me.”
“They took it.”
Ansel’s whisper was so low I could barely hear him.
“Took what?” I
asked.
“Calla.” Shay’s
voice had a warning note. “Maybe we should let him rest. Let him
be.”
“Me,” Ansel
continued, not meeting my eyes. “Everything. It’s gone. I’m
dead.”
“They can’t touch
you here.” Monroe spoke gently. “Your sister is right. You’re no
longer in danger.”
“It doesn’t matter,”
Ansel said.
My patience snapped.
“What is wrong with you?”
I shoved him away
and he tumbled along the floor like a rag doll. Oh God. What just happened?
He lay still for a
moment and then his shoulders began to shake as he beat the floor
with his fists, sobbing.
Connor gaped at my
brother. “Can all Guardians just toss each other around? Or was
that because you’re an alpha?”
“No!” I fought the
terrible realization that spilled over me.
I crawled to Ansel’s
side, gingerly turning him over.
“Ansel?” I reached
out, but he scrambled back.
“Don’t touch
me.”
“Why can’t you fight
me?” I thought I already knew the answer, but my instincts screamed
out against it.
He glared at me,
fists held tight against his sides. “I told you. They took
it.”
“You have to
explain, An. I don’t understand.” But I did understand; I just
couldn’t believe it.
Shay’s voice came
from right behind me. “He’s not a Guardian anymore.”
I turned to look at
him. His face was still pale and a little green.
“That isn’t
possible.” No, no, no.
“It is,” Monroe said
quietly, keeping a respectful distance as he watched my brother
begin to rock with grief.
“No, it isn’t!” I
shrieked, not wanting to believe what I was seeing before my
eyes.
“Guardians can be
made,” Monroe continued. “And unmade.”
“No!” I was on my
feet, standing before my brother as though he were under attack.
“It can’t be!”
“Monroe’s right.”
Silas smoothed the front of his shirt. “Guardians are aberrations
of nature. The Keepers know how to manipulate their creations as
they see fit.”
I snarled at
him.
He gazed at me,
unfazed. “It’s true.”
“Shut up, Silas.”
Connor cuffed him on the back of the head.
“Ow!” Silas cried,
rubbing his skull. “What? I’m just pointing out—”
“Leave it,” Monroe
barked.
“Why?” Shay crouched
beside Ansel, watching him intently. “Why would they do this to
you?”
Ansel scowled,
glaring at Shay. “An example. They needed an example.”
My mouth went dry.
“An example for whom?” I croaked.
Ansel turned his
gaze on me and I fell back onto the heels of my hands. How could my
own brother look at me like that?
“For your pack,” he
hissed. “Or did you forget about us since you have all these new
friends?”
“Easy,” Shay said,
putting himself between me and Ansel. “Calla isn’t the one to
blame. She did what she did to save my life. If you’re going to
blame someone, blame me.”
Ansel smiled at him,
empty and cold. “Congratulations, man. You’re the wolf that I’m
not. She made you for herself and left us behind.”
“That’s not how it
happened. Ansel, they were going to kill him!” My eyes burned,
tears spilling down my cheeks.
“Better him than
us,” he said, staring at the floor again. “The whole pack will be
dead soon enough.”
“No,” I whispered.
They wouldn’t, would they? Kill the young wolves? All of them? My
mind reeled, screaming against the possibility. The Keepers had
executed Guardians for revolts in the past. Had I sealed that fate
for my packmates when I ran?
Monroe was suddenly
beside us, resting his hands on Ansel’s shoulders.
“Listen carefully.
We can help you and your friends, but you must tell me the truth.
Were you followed?”
Ansel’s eyes rolled
up and he spat in Monroe’s face.
Adne gasped, but
Monroe held up his hand.
“I understand you’re
in pain,” he said quietly, but without anger. “But I need you to
trust me. We aren’t your enemies. Your sister is safe here. You
will be too.”
I could hardly
breathe. Tears still ran down my face, dripping from my jaw onto my
collarbone. What had I done? Faces swirled before my closed eyes.
Bryn. Mason. Ren.
I felt a hand on
mine. “Calla,” Shay murmured. “It’s not your—”
“Don’t.” I jerked my
fingers away from his. “It is my
fault.”
Ansel drew a long
shuddering breath. “They threw me out of a van downtown. They just
said I’d find my sister if I was lucky.”
“Ethan?” Monroe was
on his feet.
“He was alone,”
Ethan said. “No trackers. No Guardians.”
“He’s probably just
a warning,” Connor said. “It’s the sort of thing they like to
do.”
Adne shuddered and
Connor put his arm around her shoulders.
“You’re likely
right,” Monroe said.
Adne stepped
forward. “We should get him cleaned up. I can find some
clothes.”
“I just want to be
left alone,” Ansel muttered, but the rage was gone from his
voice.
I crawled to his
side.
“Let them help, An.
They really can help us.”
“I shouldn’t have
said those things to you.” He shivered, finally looking at me, eyes
glassy and brimming with grief. “I’m glad you’re not
dead.”
I laughed through my
own tears. “Thanks.”
“Why did you leave
us?”
“I couldn’t let Shay
die. I just couldn’t,” I choked. “I didn’t want to leave you. I’m
so sorry.”
He leaned his head
against my shoulder, shivering when I put my arm around him. “So am
I.”