Take the easy target, I corrected silently. Maddy was deaf to my thoughts, but they must have been painted on my face, because she nodded anyway.
“You can’t go out there alone.” Griffin was the one who said it, but we were all thinking it.
“I have to go alone,” Maddy corrected. “If anyone goes with me, that’s who he’ll go after. He’d kill you—any of you—just to make me watch.”
I didn’t want to let Maddy do this. Every instinct in my body rebelled against the idea of letting her go off by herself again.
“You didn’t let me,” Maddy said, as if I’d said the words out loud. “You didn’t let me go. You didn’t let me do anything, Bryn. It wasn’t your decision then, and it’s not now.”
You can’t make me stay.
I felt the words in the set of her chin, the spark in her eyes. Part of being Resilient was being resistant to the kinds of mental bonds that normal Weres were helpless against. If it had been Lake who was dead set on a suicide mission, I could have used the pack-bond to stop her. I could have forced the issue. If she’d left the pack, I could have bound her to me, against her will. I could have made her obey.
But I wouldn’t have—just like I couldn’t fight Maddy on this, if this was what she wanted.
Sometimes, being willing to die for those you loved wasn’t enough—it was harder, tenfold, to let them make that kind of sacrifice for you.
“What about the baby?” Lake, apparently, wasn’t above fighting dirty—not that this was news to anyone in the room. “If Wilson follows you and there’s no one else there to attack, if you’re alone, what’s going to keep him from going after you? Or her?”
Maddy wavered, but a moment later, her jaw was set, her gray eyes clear. “He won’t hurt me, because he won’t risk something happening to her.”
We didn’t know exactly what had happened during that full moon three months ago, but neither did our ghostly opponent. The one sure bet was that it had something to do with Maddy’s unborn child. If the baby had brought the Shadows back, Wilson wouldn’t risk hurting her—not if there was even a slight chance it might undo what had been done.
It’s just a theory, I thought dully, Callum’s objection echoing in my mind. It was just a theory that Sora’s death would ensure the Shadow’s. It was just a theory that Maddy’s baby’s death might do the same.
But what else—other than theories—did we have?
“I’ll be careful,” Maddy said. “I’ll stay away from people. I’ll be fine.”
It seemed wrong that we’d spent so much time looking for her, and now she was walking away. It seemed wrong to stand by and watch it happen, but there were some battles that even I couldn’t fight.
“If something happens to you,” I said—and didn’t get any further than that.
“The other alphas won’t be looking for me,” Maddy replied. “Callum said they won’t be able to enact the vote. I’ll stay off the grid. I can handle the Shadow. I’ll be fine.”
“Will you come back?” The question came from Jed, his voice worn and ragged, and I realized that none of the rest of us had wanted to ask it, because we were scared to know the answer.
We’d gone into this with the goal of bringing Maddy home. The fact that she wasn’t rabid—and was pregnant—made the desire to do so a million times stronger, a million times worse.
Maddy looked at each of us in turn. “I don’t know,” she said, giving us what honesty she could.
She didn’t know if she was coming back—now or ever. She didn’t know if she was ready, didn’t know if things could ever be the same.
This might be good-bye, then, I realized. Maddy might leave here and disappear, the way she had before. Her plan could backfire. She could die. Even if she didn’t, we might never see each other again.
And there was nothing I could do about it—nothing any of us could do about it.
I walked forward and wrapped my good arm around her. She wrapped both around me, and for a moment, I could hear her heartbeat, feel the baby shifting position restlessly in her womb.
Good-bye.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
WE GOT TO THE BORDER BETWEEN CEDAR RIDGE AND Stone River with twenty minutes to spare on Sora’s timetable. Griffin was still holding strong, and I could tell by the worry lines that had taken up residence around the corner of his mouth that the constant onslaught had subsided.
The killer had taken the bait.
I said a quick and silent prayer that wherever Maddy was, she was well, and then turned my attention to what we’d come here to do.
What I was going to have to do.
Werewolves were difficult to kill. Purebreds, like Devon and Shay, could survive anything short of decapitation, having their hearts ripped out, or being literally torn to pieces. I wasn’t sure whether Sora’s mother had been a werewolf or not, but even if she hadn’t been, killing Sora wouldn’t just be a matter of pulling a trigger.
Not if we wanted to make sure she stayed dead.
Dead.
Don’t, I told myself. Don’t think it. Don’t picture it. Don’t picture Dev.
“Silver,” Lake said, nodding toward the weapons she’d packed us. “And you have your knife.”
Since the challenge, I hadn’t gone anywhere without it.
“I’ll do it.” Caroline crossed the border to stand on the Wyoming side—something that neither Lake nor I could do, without invitation.
“You’ll do what?” I asked, jarred by the sudden reminder that Caroline wasn’t one of us and wondering how I’d gotten to the point where any part of me thought that she was.
“I’ll kill her.” Caroline was holding a knife in her own hand, and she ran her thumb over the tip of the blade, so lightly that it didn’t draw blood. “That’s what I am. A killer.”
I could tell by the tone in her voice that those were someone else’s words, ones she’d heard often enough to believe them.
“It’s what I do, Bryn. It’s what I am. You know that.”
At one point, I would have believed what she was saying, but now?
“You have a knack for hunting,” I said. “That doesn’t make you a killer.”
“I shot Eric. The others killed him, but I shot him, and now he’s dead.”