Nightlife (Cal Leandros #1)

The sword that I plunged through his back came out his chest spraying foamy blood like milk. My voice was rusty as I repeated, "I can, you son of a bitch. I can."

The reptilian head swiveled, the silver eyes disbelieving. Didn't expect that, did you? I thought savagely. Didn't expect this half-dead sheep to do anything but lie down for you. I yanked the blade back out of him, the action half turning him. It was just enough for me to bury the sword in his stomach this time. I felt it catch and grind on his spinal column. "And you're not quick." The smile I felt split my face felt as unnatural as the white fluid cascading to the floor. "Not even for a sheep." I leaned sideways and jammed a foot under the point of entry, pushing him off the weapon. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nik restrain Robin from coming to my aid.

Darkling tumbled to the floor, clawed hands trying in vain to stop the outpouring of blood. "No. NO." And surreally enough one hand lifted toward me… as if I would take it. As if I would save him. "We are one… you and I. One."

The next blow hit his throat. I swung the sword high and chopped at his neck with every ounce of strength left in me. The scales were some protection, and the head stayed attached by bands of muscle and flesh… just barely. Blood geysered from his mouth, bubbling horribly as he tried to suck air through a bisected trachea. The wound in his abdomen was leaking other fluids now, greenish ones that smoked and sizzled as they hit the tile. He was a mess, my former monster. One helluva mess.

And that's when I really got started.

Time passed. I didn't know how much, but suddenly Niko was there, prying the hilt from my hand. Robin had a sheet and was covering the ruined pile of mutilated flesh, splintered bone, and pulverized organs that mounded on the floor. It would've been a mystery what the creature had once been if you hadn't known. It would've been hard to recognize what had lived in you, controlled you, and then finally consumed you.

He'd eaten me alive, Darkling. Devoured me whole. Yet I was still here. I studied the slowly staining sheet blankly. How could that be? I dropped to my knees. I'd killed and been killed. I'd been the pale shadow of a monster and then a vibrantly gleeful, self-aware one. I had been swallowed and my soul dissolved. But I was still here. And I realized…

I wasn't at all sure I wanted to be.

The strength I'd had before melted away. I couldn't walk. I couldn't even stand. But I could crawl, and I did. I moved reluctant hands, pushed with my knees, and did anything I could to put distance between the others and myself. Now that it was over, I didn't trust myself to even be in the same room with them. I put my head down and ignored the sound of voices calling my name. I ignored it and tried to move faster.

"Cal." Niko's voice, calm and soothing, tried to seep through the cotton wool that wrapped my brain. I wouldn't let it. I pushed one hand, one knee, farther. I'd get away. I had to. The hand on my shoulder had me jerking to one side, trying to escape its touch.

"Stay away," I said with numb desperation. "Get away from me."

Goodfellow's sharp intake of breath passed by me, leaving me untouched. He didn't understand, not really, but Niko did. He always knew, always saw through me as if I were a pane of glass. But I should've known he wouldn't listen. Blocking my path, he dropped urgently on the floor in front of me and wrapped his arms around me. Hard enough to be painful. Hard enough that I couldn't doubt or ignore the fact that he was there. And, not coincidentally, hard enough to restrain me. One hand cupping the back of my neck, he said without a shred of doubt, "You won't hurt us, little brother. You don't have to run." Relentlessly, he held on. "We won't let you run. Not when we've just gotten you back."

I shook my head. How could he believe that? How could he believe I might not hurt them, might not try to kill them again? How could he believe that when I couldn't? The words had been only in my head, but Niko heard them nonetheless. "It wasn't you," he said vehemently. "It was not you. It was never you. The bastard is gone, Cal. The thing that did this to you is gone. Let him go."

He was gone. Yeah, I bought that. The trouble was I thought he might have taken the best parts of me with him. I pushed against Niko, trying futilely to break his grip. Finally I gave up; he was stronger than I was at the moment. There was no escape. I didn't say anything; the words simply weren't there. Hell, I don't even think there were words for what I was feeling. But there were words for one thing… one thing that I had to know. "My eyes." I swallowed. "My eyes… gray?"