Free Broken Blood by Heather Hildenbrand Page B

made some interesting discoveries just spending some time at the outskirts,” Steppe said. “You miss your pack. Their voices. The mental company. You enjoyed the bond.”
    I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. He wasn’t wrong, but I knew where this was going and it wasn’t even close to the same thing. And internally, it was taking everything I had to keep him blocked while trying to figure out how to end this standoff. I was not, under any circumstances, going to kill Victoria Lexington.
    The irony of it wasn’t lost on me. Once upon a time, I would’ve actually entertained the idea of taking her out. But now, after everything we’d been through, I’d do anything to protect her. And unfortunately, that included refraining from killing her God-awful dad while she was forced to watch.
    “You could have that camaraderie again, you know,” Steppe said, smiling as he stirred the mental pot.
    My reasoning became muddled. Hazy. And I glared back at him. “Get out of my head,” I said.
    “Make your choice,” he said.
    “Neither.”
    “Then you’ve sealed both their fate. And the fate of your uncle. It’s a shame. I would’ve thought you had enough blood on your hands by now. Olivia.”
    She nodded at the two guards still hovering beside Victoria and then at the two near Astor. They took a step back, dropped their weapons, and planted their feet. The air around them shivered and then popped and fabric exploded, raining down in a pile beside them. One by one, they shifted, dropping to all fours as they became mangy, nearly emaciated Werewolves.
    They locked onto their targets, two aimed at Victoria and two at Astor. With slow steps, they approached, jaws open, growling and snarling.
    “Stop this!” I yelled.
    “Only you can do that,” Steppe said.
    I jerked toward the sound of snapping teeth; the last two guards had shifted and were advancing on Mr. Lexington. He backed away and fell onto an empty cot, scrambling back toward the wall it butted against. It wouldn’t do a bit of good. They were all going to die; none of them had the strength or skill to stop it.
    I screamed at my wolf but it only shrank farther away from my grasp. Steppe’s slimy mental fingers grasped for a firmer grip and I screamed again, struggling for control that was quickly slipping away.
    “Stop! I’ll choose!”
    Olivia flicked her chin and the wolves paused. I looked at the one closest to me. It had a mangy coat of dull brown, scarred and matted in places. It smelled different than any of the hybrids I’d ever bonded with and I realized, not for the first time, these were different. Not Olivia’s original creations. Not from Miles.
    Something about them was familiar. The subtle slanting of their eyes, the scrawny, sinewy build of their muscles. But I couldn’t quite place it and there wasn’t time. Whatever it was, they were obviously bonded with Olivia now. Some failed experiment on Steppe’s part, made into his very own disposable army.
    Inside the walls of my mind, a voice whispered promises of information in exchange for my surrender. Screw you, Gordon Steppe. I’m shutting you out.
    Gordon blinked.
    “Your choice,” he prompted, irritation pulling the corners of his mouth down. “Which one will you kill?”
    I hesitated, not sure whether to hate myself or Steppe for whatever happened next. The silence stretched and my stomach twisted with dread and indecision.
    I looked at Victoria, thinking of our friendship, such as it was. The way we’d been at odds during our term at Wood Point and then our slow progression toward something resembling friendship since she and Logan had become a couple. Even in her worst moments of cruelty, I understood her. She was the way she was for a reason. Namely, the man standing across the room.
    Mr. Lexington. I looked at him, contemplating. But he wasn’t watching me. He was staring at his daughter, his expression pained. Concern was etched into the space between his brows. And even though