“He would have done the same for me. Can you say the same for Gavin?”
“He saved us in Caswell. I have to do this.”
“You don’t,” Kelly retorted, but then he deflated. “But it doesn’t matter what I say. I could tell you that you’re slipping further and further away. That your eyes are violet right now. That you’re turning Omega again. It doesn’t matter, though, does it? Nothing I can say will change your mind.”
I started to reach for him but stopped myself. “You can still try.”
He laughed, though there was no humor in it. “The longer you drag this out, the worse it’ll be. Livingstone isn’t going to let him go. He’s a beast, Carter. Running on instinct. And he sees Gavin as his. As his pack. If he thinks you’re a threat, he’s going to do everything he can to save his pack.” He glanced back over his shoulder, looking beyond me. “He’s following us.”
“I know.” I didn’t need to look back the way we’d come to know it. Gavin was there, somewhere in the trees. If he was going for stealth, he wasn’t very good at it.
“It’s not that,” Kelly said, as if I’d spoken my thoughts aloud. “There’s something between the two of you. It’s like it is with Robbie and me. We—”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
He threw up his hands, and for a moment I remembered him when he was a kid, all gawky limbs and a toothy smile, calling Carter, Carter, Carter, pick me up, up, up, up! I always had because I was helpless not to. I would have done anything he’d asked. “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered. “Keep on ignoring it and telling yourself everything is fine. That always works out well.”
“I love you,” I told him.
He looked back at me again, eyes wide and so damn blue. His expression softened. “Hey, I know. I love you too. Always have. Tether bros.”
We continued on.
THE TRUCKS WERE STILL PARKED in front of the house. The trucks belonging to the hunters dwarfed mine, parked on either s
ide of it, blocking mine in. They were all covered in a layer of snow. And though the snowfall had been heavy enough to hide the evidence of the slaughter of the hunters, I could still smell the blood soaked into the ground, the stench heavy and thick. Even if I hadn’t been there to witness what had happened, I’d have known this was a place of death.
The bodies were gone. I tried not to think about what that meant, though a dark, twisted little voice in my head whispered that Livingstone had seen to them.
Kelly was gone. He’d disappeared as soon as the house came into view.
Gavin was circling the house off in the trees.
I ignored him.
I went to the truck first. The keys were still in the ignition. I started it. It caught after a few seconds, black smoke pouring out of the exhaust before the engine smoothed out. I turned it off again and sighed in relief.
I grabbed my coat from the bench seat and was about to climb out of the truck again when I noticed the picture was missing. The one of me and Kelly and Joe. It’d been sitting on the dash where I’d put it the day I left Green Creek. It never moved. I never moved it.
But it was gone.
I got out of the truck, bending over to look on the floor. Under the seat.
Nothing.
Maybe one of the hunters had taken it.
I slammed the door harder than I meant to. The truck rocked. Snow slid down onto the hood from the windshield.
I closed my eyes and breathed in through my nose. Out through my mouth.
It was just a picture.
Get in the truck, Kelly whispered. Get in the truck and drive. I’m waiting for you. I’m always waiting for you.
A wolf howled in the trees, a long and mournful sound.
“Jesus,” I muttered as I opened my eyes. “I hear you. Idiot.” I pulled on my coat. It did little to warm me.