Page 53 of Bonded By Blood

Chapter Fourteen

Joe was hot on Seth’s heels as he rushed into the large room Trista seemed to prefer for important meetings. The guards pulled the door shut behind him and Joe took quick, silent stock of the room.

Seth had already joined Veronica, off to the side, standing in front of the sofa. Trista stood several paces forward from her favorite chair, a severe frown on her lips. The two men Joe recognized as Trista’s advisors retained their usual positions along the wall. Brianna stood, slightly askew, in front of her mother with her hand gripping the head of the only human in the room. A male with bandages around his head, a sling barely clinging to one arm while his other arm hung loose and very broken at his side. The human was on his knees, facing Trista.

Is that … Garvin? Joe had only met the man once, briefly. But he was pretty sure Garvin had a head injury and he did look somewhat familiar. Maybe the better question was, what had happened to make Garvin fall so out of favor with Brianna? Wait. Joe glanced around one more time, just to be sure he hadn’t overlooked anyone. But he saw no one new.

When he’d received the urgent summons, he’d been in the kitchen, annoying the staff. The message, vague though it’d been, that he’d heard was that the traitor had finally been identified. There was only one person in the room it could possibly be.

“Good, now that everyone’s here,” Trista said without looking around, “it seems we have news.”

Brianna tightened her grip of Garvin’s hair, forcing him to lift his head enough that he could surely see Trista’s face from his kneeling position. “I believe you have a confession to make, Garvin.”

Garvin made a pained sound. “Yes,” he finally said with a sharp gasp. “It was me. I let Troy Wilson out of his cage.”

Joe’s eyes widened.

One of the advisors made a murmured sound of surprise.

“Why?” Trista demanded.

“Because,” Garvin started, an audible strain in his voice, “I’m sick of you all. Twice a week I open a vein for you freaks, and you think providing me with a roof and free food and medical is equal compensation.” He groaned, attempting in vain to shift his weight beneath Brianna’s grip. “I changed my name and gave up my life, what, so I could play the part of some walking buffet?” He scoffed. “Fuck you.”

Joe could hardly believe his ears. Brianna had told him before that all of their human staff consisted of volunteers. People who, for whatever reason, had voluntarily agreed to take the job Trista referred to as ‘blood slave.’ The conditions, and compensation, were all discussed openly beforehand from what he’d been told. The real kicker, though, was that supposedly none of them were prisoners—they could quit anytime. Though Joe could understand why someone might question how well the request to leave would go over. Regardless…

“You mean to tell me,” Trista said, speaking slowly, “that you chose to set free our enemy and turn against us rather than simply walk away? Did you imagine that would go well for you?”

Garvin let out a bitter half-laugh. “Please. You would kill me either way. I was just hoping, this way, I’d live long enough to see those feral beasts kill one of you first.”

Pain stole across Brianna’s face. “After all this time…”

Trista ignored her comment. “You’re a bigger fool than I took you for if you thought those feral beasts were capable of killing either of us.” Her eyes narrowed with sharp focus. “Did you provide the werewolf blood that poisoned my daughter?”

Joe felt his throat tighten. He’d known at the time that Matilda wasn’t the real traitor. That she hadn’t deserved such a harsh punishment. But to find the traitor so quickly was like throwing what he’d done in his face. He’d been asking himself for hours if he could have found another way, if he’d thought harder could he possibly have come up with a different solution, thus far to no avail. Now it seemed all he’d really needed to do was stall.

But it was even too late for that.

“No,” Garvin said. “I just unlocked a side-door. Troy Wilson brought the blood.” An undeniable note of pride lightened his voice. “I did tell him the fastest way to the kitchen, though.”

Joe closed his eyes. The strange noise Matilda had heard had probably been Troy. The drop of blood she’d wiped up, that she hadn’t initially seen after pouring the drinks, had probably been werewolf blood. She’d been set-up. But that knowledge didn’t matter, because the act was done.

“And Matilda?” Brianna asked, an emotion other than anger straining her voice. “Did you even care about what would happen to Matilda afterward?”

As Joe watched, Garvin offered an awkward shrug. “Every war has its casualties.”

Joe frowned and clenched his fists at his sides. Garvin’s callousness was disgusting. Infuriating.

“War?” Trista’s simple question cut through Joe’s building anger. She’d arched a brow high on her forehead and, after a brief pause, motioned for Brianna to step back. Garvin slumped a couple of inches when he was released, but Trista moved closer and caught his jaw in her hand. “Do you mean to tell me you think your little bout of treachery is tantamount to war?”

Silence hung in the air as Joe and the others waited for Garvin’s response.

Garvin rumbled with another strained laugh. “I wasn’t talking about me,” he said. “The brothers, and their master, they’re the ones waging war with you.”

Master? From his own personal experience, Joe couldn’t say he felt like Tobias Wilson was the kind of man who answered to a master.

Without moving from his place to the side, Seth asked the question on Joe’s mind. “What makes you think the Wilsons answer to anyone?”

“You think I would have done all this for no reason?” Garvin challenged.

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