I was getting worked up now, upset, and it made my blood simmer, my bones begin the first melt of a slide into my bad, were-creature form. My mother would have screamed, had she seen what I’d become. My dad would have killed himself all over again, just as he’d done when he’d realized there was no hope of conquering my bloodlust.
Chaplin had told me that fear destroyed control, so I shouldn’t fear. But I feared what my body did, feared the anger and passion that sometimes made me that way. And when I feared, I gave into all of it.
Fear had been our downfall out here in the New Badlands.
“Some scars never heal,” I said, “even though were-creatures mend just as fast as any vampire when we’re in preter form.”
“All this time,” Gabriel said, “I thought you were such a coward for not going outside.”
“I am.”
He looked at the ground, as if there were answers there. “Once Zel told me that I had no idea about the damage that was going on. I guess I brought on that anger . . . passion . . . in you.”
Although I didn’t want him to suffer any blame, I was going to be genuine. “You had an effect. But, as I said, you also found a way to balance me.”
“Balance.” He didn’t seem to believe in it. “So when Chaplin forced you outside, to face that fear of yours . . .”
I nodded, knowing where he was going.
“He said that having me with you would do a world of good. That was because it was a test—having me near you when you were at your most vulnerable, outside where you wanted to run free.”
“He wanted to prove two points. That I needed to toughen up, and that I could be strong in your presence, too.” I glanced at the visz, where the others were most likely listening in. “They all have tried to teach me. Only I’m a hopeless student.”
“Don’t say that.” Gabriel seemed as if something inside him still wanted to protect me, even from myself. “Nobody’s beyond learning.”
Our shared gaze was so intense that the heat rose in me to an even higher degree. But as I’d done so many times before, I pressed it down, priming that spring inside me to let loose. I didn’t know another way of handling myself other than blocking the emotions. Shielding from the truths that could break me for good.
He continued. “There was also a time when Chaplin told me that, normally, he would’ve been the first to order me to get myself out of here, away from the community. He wasn’t talking about how he couldn’t overcome my sway to do what he wanted me to. He was saying that if he hadn’t had that grand plan to match me up with Stamp so my sacrifice would protect your true identities, he would’ve kicked me out because of how I affected you. Because of what damage I was doing.”
“I suppose it took the dog a little time to control the sway you had over him. So he was slow in recognizing your effect on me until I killed the man in the whale-hide hat. . . .”
Gabriel wandered toward the wall. “Maybe you’d better tell me all of it, Mariah. Every kill. I’m still trying to get it all straight in my mind. You’d think as a fellow preter, it’d be easier for me to acceeverything.”
Yeah, one would think that. But I didn’t say that maybe I was a worse kind of monster than he was.
“What happened with the first death?” he asked. I could only see his wounded profile. “I know it occurred just before I got here. Stamp’s men thrashed me, and then I came to your place.”
“Do you remember how the moon looked the night before?”
He hesitated, then nodded, shaking his head. “Full.”
“The last night of the full moon phase.” I felt as if I were sliding down a slippery slope, no way back up. “All of us were outside that night, running free. Before that, for almost a year, I’d been doing much better at controlling myself, so no one was worried very much about me. Not yet.”
Of course, the others had avoided me that night, as usual, because of what I’d done to earn their worry. The terrible, terrible truth I’d also been lying to Gabriel about.
But I’d get to that soon enough.
“Stamp’s men had just started coming round,” I added, “harassing us via the visz lenses, so the thug who’d appeared on my screen was fresh on my mind. But all of us promised each other we’d leave them alone. I really did mean to do just that, and I even had the others bind me with cable and chain that night so I could prove my good intentions.” I exhaled. “I don’t clearly remember how it all happened, though—things are always a blur except for bits and pieces—yet I recall the fear that Stamp’s man would find my home. Then I remember breaking out of the bindings while the others gave in to their full moon changes. Then I was trying to catch that thug’s scent round my visz lens, tracking him, waiting near Stamp’s place to see if any of his crew would be out. And there he was. He’d wandered off with some drinking buddies, then branched off by himself. . . .”
Now that I was allowing myself to, I remembered the aftermath of blood, the taste of him in my mouth, the buzz of fulfillment. Regret.
“Afterward,” I said, a catch in my throat, “I came home, cleaned myself off, healed. There was so much blood—more than my usual meals produced. Then, even though I rarely even visited the common area, I found Zel and Sammy there, chatting after their own hunts. I told them what I’d done. They didn’t want me outside from that point on, so that only encouraged me to stay inside my home—I guess it even enabled me. But then you came, and what I felt for you only built on the fear I hadn’t quite let go of yet with Stamp moving in nearby.”
I lowered my voice so the others wouldn’t hear on the visz. Even now, he was stirring the appetite in me.
“You made me hunger in a way I’d never done before, and it got worse and worse until I couldn’t stand it.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“No. Don’t apologize
for
me. You can’t correct this.”
“Can’t I?”
He’d altered his tone, hinting at the sway he’d used on me before, and my body went soft, my mind open, my chest and limbs light. Peace. It’d even quelled the bloodlust when our connection had been in its waning period, earlier tonight, after he’d come back from trying to rescue Zel and he’d appeared with his wounds, blood decorating his shirt. The others had turned away from the red, not wanting it to affect them, but I’d found that I hadn’t reacted to it in the normal way.
I kept linking to his gaze, yearning for him, for what kept me good, not bad. Still whispering, I said, “Then there was the second killing. You’d told me that the guy in the whale-hide hat had hurt the oldster with the taserwhip. I suppose that planted the seed for his death, made me focus on him rather than any of the other thugs. But, even more,
you’d
gotten to me, Gabriel, and I thought I might be able to relieve myself of the building hunger for you. I couldn’t. When I touched myself, I made the anger, the confusion worse, much, much worse, until my blood heated and my bones began to melt. You’d gone outside on your own by that point, and I gave in to the change.”
“And you went after Whale Hide.”
“Any one of them would’ve appeased me, but yes.” Red, splash, heat in my throat and stomach. That was all I recalled besides the rage and the satisfaction of killing him. “After that, I came home, then changed back. I couldn’t sleep, even though my body needed it. Then you returned, and I stayed downstairs, mostly because I was hoping you hadn’t seen what I’d done—not with pleasuring myself or with the change.”
His gaze had gone hazy, a hint of red at the edges of his irises. I knew he was thinking of that night. It’d awakened the monster in both of us.
“After that killing,” he said, “Chaplin told me to stay away from you. Now I know why. It wasn’t because I’m a vampire and he was worried about what I might do to you. It’s because of what I raised in you.”
The memories—the way he’d watched me, the way I’d gone on fire for him—were overlapping now, rolling over and into me. But I breathed. I had to block it just for the time being, because it was proving to be too much.
“I never realized,” I said, feeling halfway sane again, “that you might think you’d committed any of the kills. I never thought you’d suffer because of that.”
“I have a tendency to overindulge, if not properly checked.”
Just like me. I hated that part of myself as much as I hated the men who’d made me this way. Most of all, I hated that it brought me a thin memory of pleasure.
“The night Chompers was killed,” he said. “That was because of anger. Because they’d taken Chaplin.”
I’d been close to turning, right in front of Gabriel, but he’d gone after the dog before the change had consumed me. “I held off turning as long as I could, and I made it outside just after you did. I tracked Chaplin down, freed him, and took care of Chompers.” The sight of my dog had pained me—Chaplin, so afraid of me as he’d tried to persuade me not to kill again, so out of his drugged mind with the resurrection of my uncontrollable urges. The worst part was the memory of Chaplin crawling away from me, as if he thought I was going to come after him next.
And if I’d still been hungry enough after doing away with Chompers, my fever might’ve led me to it. . . .
Shaking out the thought, I knew that if it weren’t for Gabriel and his sway, I might be even worse off now. Chaplin always tried to counsel me, and as a fellow quasi-canine, I connected to him and his compassion. But he only had so much of it, as he’d shown when he’d forced me to go outside shortly thereafter.
I said, “I made it back to the community long before you and Chaplin did.”
“You’re fast. I saw that tonight.”
“You were also slowed down by all of Stamp’s men still hanging round, but I used Zel’s entrance to avoid them. I washed off the blood and went to the common area.”
“You had that cap on,” Gabriel said. “The blanket, too, so I never knew you’d even changed clothes or gotten your hair wet. I didn’t smell any evidence of a kill on you because you’d gotten rid of it.” His smile was stone-hard. “All of you were so proficient. You took such pains to fool me.”
“Yes.” But we’d already explained why. I could see by his growing impatience that I didn’t need to do it again. “When I arrived at the common area, everyone got on me about the man in the whale-hide hat. They hadn’t seen me since they’d gotten the news, and I’m sure they would’ve been even angrier at that juncture if they’d known about Chompers, too. I just hadn’t told them yet.”
Gabriel looked up, as if mentally focusing on what he’d seen just after he’d arrived back at the common area with Chaplin. “They were all standing over you, but I thought it was out of comfort because Chaplin had been captured.”
I’d actually taken solace from how they’d yelled at me. I’d even hoped that I could use their anger to restrain myself in the future.
But then, I’d always hoped in that way, and it never seemed to work. The hunger was too strong, and not a one of them was as dominant as their crazy lone wolf. There was nobody who could overcome me in were-form, so they’d allowed me to stay, depending on my desire to get better. Meanwhile, I holed myself up, away from them, so they wouldn’t have to deal with me.
Then Gabriel had come along, and he’d been the only one who could match me.
He said, “And here I thought that the tension I felt when I walked into the room was due to me. Then again, they weren’t too happy with me, either.”
“By that time, they’d realized you had a strong influence on me. But Chaplin wanted you round, and none of them would challenge me, knowing I would best them. They thought I wanted to keep you, just as Chaplin did.”
“But you wanted to kick me out, too.”
“No,” I said. “I didn’t. I couldn’t.”
His gaze locked onto mine, as if he were trying to decide the extent of this truth, too. But my whole soul had been in the confession.
Too bad that what I had to say next would push him away for good.
“Those aren’t the only killings.” My eyes heated with oncoming tears. “Annie didn’t disappear, Gabriel.”
The words sounded sharp, an excision that we both needed. I only wished I didn’t have to be the one who’d made the cut, because I would’ve gladly taken the bleeding side of it, especially while I sat there watching Gabriel’s expression fall.
I reached for his hand. “I told you before—I’m sure Abby wasn’t Annie.”
He was having none of it. “What happened to Annie?” His eyes were getting redder, his hands clenched. “Was she a were-creature, too, like the rest of you?”
All I wanted to do was get through this, to arrive at the consequences—his raging at me, his well-caused yelling.
“She was,” I said, “just like all of us here. She was a wolf, like me.”
His eyes were all red now, but I wasny wished It afraid. I only felt numb as the tears came and my throat made it impossible to say more.
“Her domain,” Gabriel said, his voice near a hiss. “When I searched Annie’s domain, there were scratched-out tally marks on the dirt wall. Twenty-eight marks. The lunar cycle. Why didn’t I realize that?”
“I was in her domain before you were. I tried to erase those marks, but I was working so quickly that I guess I didn’t do a good enough job.”
“You messed with her possessions to keep me dumb and happy?”
“To keep you from knowing our secret.”
He reared back his head in clear anguish, and my chest seemed to crack because so much was weighed against it.
“Everything about Annie’s disappearance . . . it was all a lie, too.”
Tears attacked me. “She was so happy to find us. But, as I said, she was another werewolf, and I wasn’t used to the proximity of a second one. Just by being round, she made my hackles rise, and I did the same to her. During the first two full moon phases, my dad was able to restrain me with chains and cables before I turned. But the full moon after that, I escaped them.”
Gabriel looked as if he couldn’t take any more, but I kept talking. “I didn’t wish her any ill while I was in my human form, but when the wolf took over, the fear did, too. She felt like a threat to me, and Annie felt the same way about me, because we faced off that night. It was in our nature to fight, to see who would dominate.”
“And you won,” he said.
“No,” I said. “There wasn’t any winning. She was trying to rip my throat out, so I had to do something worse to save myself. I killed her.”
I’d clawed her stomach out, getting to her first while she’d choked on my poison blood, because that was what were-creatures’ blood did to each other . . . poisoned.
He went into a hunch, but I was going to finish this, no matter what he did to me.
“That’s when my dad gave up,” I said, brushing back tears. “And after he died, I stayed away from the others because I knew they were afraid of me. But I wanted to show everyone that I would stop. I kept myself underground and didn’t go outside during the full moon until I felt as if I could hunt without the bloodlust absolutely taking over. I gave my neighbors more water that I pumped from my system than ever, and some of them started to talk to me over the viszes when they saw I meant well. Zel believed in me, because I was trying so hard. Same with the oldster. Even Hana and Sammy, to a certain extent. But not Pucci. He’s a black-and-white kind of guy and doesn’t forgive easily. He thought I was still beyond redemption, and he ended up being right.”
“And who was going to throw you out when you were the deadliest among them?” Gabriel asked, his tone thoroughly mangled now.
“No one.”
When he flashed his fangs, I was thankful.
I sank to my knees, my blood beginning its lethal boil as I got out the silver-bladed knife I’d tucked into a pocket, ready to do what was needed to stop all this from ever happening again.