And then, suddenly, the car flew into life and slammed into Liv. Marcy drove the car right into a tree, and she kept pressing on the gas, pinning a screaming Liv between the car and the tree. The engine smoked and made all kinds of noises that no car should ever make, but Marcy didn’t let up.
Thea rolled over and stood up, as blood dripped out from the gaping wound in her chest. One of her wings had completely snapped, and it dragged on the ground as she walked over to Alex. He couldn’t help but gape at her, because he was pretty sure that she was a zombie siren at this point.
“Gimme the stick,” Thea said wearily, and held out her hand, so he handed it to her. Then she walked over to the car. “Shut it off. She’s not going anywhere.”
Marcy did as she was told, which made it easier to hear the sound of Liv’s laughter.
“You’re half-dead, Thea. You really think you can do anything?”
Thea climbed onto the hood of the car, the dented metal groaning under her feet.
“You won’t hurt me,” Liv said. “Penn will kill you if you hurt me. That’s why you never stood up for your other sisters. You can’t touch—”
“Shut up,” Thea said.
Using the stick like a baseball bat, she swung. The wood connected hard with Liv’s face, and it shattered, splinters flying everywhere as the stick broke in half. But along with it, there was a terrible crunching and ripping sound, and Liv’s head flew off, landing a few feet away in the road.
Her mouth was open wide, like she was trying to scream, but only raspy breath came out. The lack of a head didn’t seem to slow her body down, and her arms clawed blindly at Thea, scraping down her legs and sides.
Thea didn’t seem to notice, though. She bent over Liv’s bloody, gaping neck and reached down into it. Alex grimaced, but he couldn’t look away. The moonlight made it harder to fully appreciate the gore since the blood didn’t show up quite as red, but when Thea ripped the heart out from Liv’s chest, her arm covered in dripping, dark liquid, he definitely got the picture.
Liv’s body stopped moving, and it slumped forward onto Marcy’s car. Thea stared down at the heart in her hands, then she shrugged and tossed it back into the trees behind her. Covered in blood and dirt, Thea jumped down from the car.
“Holy shit.” Marcy pushed open the car door as wide as it would go and eased herself out. “But your heart is missing.”
Thea shrugged. “It’ll grow back.” She was still holding the stick, and seemed to just now realize it, so she dropped it on the ground. “That’s why you have to cut off the head and tear out the heart.”
“If I cut off your head, it’ll grow back?” Marcy asked.
“Eventually.” Thea shot her a look. “But it’s painful, and it really pisses me off, so don’t even think about trying it.”
Since Liv was gone, and both Thea and Marcy looked like they would survive, Alex turned to start jogging up the hill. He’d helped Thea take care of Liv, so he could help Gemma get rid of Penn.
“Alex!” Marcy called after him, so he stopped and looked back at her. “Where are you going?”
“I have to see if Gemma needs help.”
“Wait for me.” Marcy started hobbling up the hill, but she could barely put any weight on her injured leg, so she went very slowly. “No. Don’t wait for me. I’m too slow. Go, but I’ll catch up.”
“What about you, Thea?” Alex asked.
Thea sighed and shook her head. “I won’t stop Gemma from killing Penn, but I can’t help her, either. I’ll stay back here.”
Alex nodded, and he turned and raced up the hill.
FORTY-EIGHT
Rancor
Her blood felt like hot, liquid energy surging through her veins, like she was alive for the very first time. Gemma had been the monster before, but it had never felt quite like this. The strength, the speed, the hunger, it was all there, but this time it was completely under her control. The monster would do Gemma’s bidding.
Penn stood at the other side of the house, and she tossed Harper aside, like she was a scrap of meat. And that was all it took to set Gemma off. She’d been playing Penn’s games for far too long.
She charged across the room, her long legs moving in strong, fast strides, and Penn bent down, letting out an animalistic roar. Just as Gemma reached her, Penn turned around and kicked her right in the stomach. Her claws tore into the soft flesh, then Gemma flew backward, crashing into the kitchen.
As Penn stomped over to her, she laughed, but it sounded more like an evil raven than anything human. Gemma had gotten to her feet instantly, but the floor was littered with silverware and broken glass, making it hard for her clawed feet to get traction.
Gemma backed up around the island, letting Penn come toward her and think she had the upper hand. Gemma hissed at her, but neither of them spoke. They could, but something about being in this form made growling and crowing feel much more natural. Words required more thought, and her brain was giving in to much more primal instincts.