Bad Bloods by Shannon A. Thompson Read Free Book Online Page B

shouldn’t have. Calhoun had already made
that clear by never announcing my presence in the first place, but
I had to know.
    A pause followed my question, but Henderson
cleared his throat. “Who is this?” he asked, his voice deeper this
time, more monotone, like he half-suspected one of his staff
members had hacked into his phone line.
    “Alec,” Cal started slowly. “You must excuse
my…son.”
    “Son?” he asked. “But—”
    “I told you about him,” Cal interrupted.
“Daniel. Daniel Wilson now.”
    “Daniel,” he repeated my name carefully, like
he’d learned the meaning of my existence over this one-minute phone
call. “You’re the Northern Flock boy.”
    I wasn’t sure if it was more of a statement
or a question, but I said, “Yes, sir.” It was only then that I
realized I had spoken to Henderson—actually spoken to Alec
Henderson—and I had interrupted him of all things. My throat
tightened.
    “I want to tell your story too,” he said.
    Cal had told Alec everything.
    I jumped up, almost knocking the table over,
but Cal gripped my wrist like he could force me to calm down. And
he did. I sat back down, but I trembled, and my tremors caused the
table to rattle. Damn it. I meant to fix the broken leg.
    “Daniel,” Cal said my name like it mattered
anymore. “It would help him win. You and Serena would help him
win—”
    My stare silenced him before my words could,
and I yanked out of his hold. “You told me this was about
Stephanie.” In the two days following the rumor’s break, more
information had released, including her full name—Stephanie
Mackenzie Henderson—and a photo of her. She was only nine when she
was last seen, and she had her mother’s blonde hair and her
father’s round face. Aside from her blue eyes, she actually looked
like what I imagined Serena would’ve looked like as a child.
    “It is about Stephanie,” Cal said, quieter
this time, and he pulled a folder off the floor only to slide it
across the table. When I didn’t touch it, he opened it, and I
stared at a fake ID—much like the one I had—but Serena’s face was
on it. How he got her picture, I didn’t know, and I doubted he’d
even tell me, but if I had to guess, I would’ve guessed the blood
camp’s files. It would’ve been something Alec could get access to,
and Serena looked too healthy in the picture for it to have been
taken afterward. Her eyes were even brighter, her cheeks rounder. I
saw the girl I’d never meet, the one who had to die to make the one
I now knew.
    “Daniel, my boy,” Henderson said. “Listen.
The public needs to see you are human. They need to see your
weaknesses, your pain. They need to see their own children in you.”
He paused. “And the officials need to see that the blood camp girl
survived. That bad bloods won’t die easily, that they will never be
forgotten.” Stephanie’s name was next to Serena’s face on the ID.
They were already blending together. “We will protect her as
Stephanie and guarantee that no one will test her or arrest her
again, and we will win with the both of you standing by my side.
You have my word.”
    I closed my eyes. “I can’t leave my
flock.”
    “But—”
    “I can’t,” I said. “You can use my story, but
I can’t leave my flock.”
    His breathing was loud, louder than
Calhoun’s. “And the girl?”
    My eyes squeezed tighter, like they could
shut all the images out. Serena. Stephanie. All the others. “I have
to talk to her,” I croaked.
    “Of course,” Henderson agreed too quickly.
“But we only have a couple of days, Daniel.”
    I opened my eyes and stared at the phone,
still resting in Cal’s gigantic hand.
    “You survived because of this,” Henderson
said.
    I pushed my chair back and stood again. When
I looked away from the phone, Cal met my eyes. He nodded, knowing
exactly what I had to do, and I did it. I left. And I didn’t know
when I’d come back. I just had to go away for a while. And I hoped
everyone