I back away from him, tearing at my hair, finding bits of stuff, dried blood and other bits . . . tiny bits. And all I can hear is Nesbitt sniggering as he says, “Last night’s leftovers?” I turn back to him and before I know it my knife is in my hand and I’m striding toward Nesbitt, who’s pulling his blade out too.
Gabriel moves between us. “Nathan. Calm down.”
I push my hand against Gabriel’s chest but I can’t speak. I know I shouldn’t do anything but if Nesbitt says one more word I really will stick the knife in his fat guts.
Gabriel stays there, barring my way, and Nesbitt stands behind him, grinning.
“Nesbitt, go back to the castle. I need to talk to Nathan.”
And Nesbitt, still grinning, salutes Gabriel behind his back, then turns and dances away.
Gabriel touches my arm. “Nathan. He’s just winding you up.”
“And that means I shouldn’t kill him?”
He doesn’t reply at first. Then he shakes his head. “Please don’t. He’s the best cook for miles. And I don’t want to end up doing the washing-up. Get your own back by complaining his soup is too salty. That’ll hurt him more than a knife in the guts.”
“He drives me mad with all his stupid comments.” I take a breath and say, “I overheard him talking to Van when we were in Geneva. He said that I didn’t know it but I was already his friend.” I shake my head. “I just don’t get him.”
“I think all this is Nesbitt’s way of showing he likes you. He’s half Black Witch, Nathan. Don’t treat him like a fain.”
“I don’t!”
“You don’t show him any respect.”
I look over to Nesbitt’s figure in the distance. He’s not dancing now but is walking slowly to the castle. “I’m not sure I feel much respect for him.”
“I think you do. He’s a good fighter. A good tracker. He’s just bad at jokes.”
I feel stupid holding my knife now and I put it away.
Gabriel reaches out and feels my hair, pulling at bits in it. “Tell me about this stuff.”
I try to speak but I don’t know what to say. The forest behind me is quiet. The wind is moving over the trees and they seem to be hushing each other. I want to find the right word to begin but can’t.
“Is it to do with your Gift?” he asks. “Can you tell me?”
I manage to mumble, “I have the same Gift as my father, the turning-into-animals thing. I’m trying to learn how to control it but . . . I can’t.”
“Is that why you want to be alone at night?”
“Yes. I’m dangerous. You shouldn’t be near me. No one should.”
I look into Gabriel’s eyes but don’t focus on them so that I can manage to say, “I caught a fox last night. I thought I might be able to stop him but I couldn’t.”
“Him?”
“The animal me. I tried to tell him not to kill the fox but he doesn’t listen to me. He wanted to kill it. To eat it. And he did. I experience it all, see it, hear it, smell it. Taste it. But I can’t control it.” I glance at the ground, then back at the trees behind me. I’m not sure I can say all this but I force myself to go on. “His first kill, my first kill, wasn’t a fox.”
“What was it?” Gabriel asks quietly.
“A Hunter.” I’ve remembered more of it since it happened and now I can’t un-remember it. “I woke up with her blood on my hands . . . in my mouth. Over my face. My hands were dripping with it. I didn’t remember it at first but now I do. I ripped the Hunter’s stomach open with my claws and her guts were half hanging out and I buried my head in her stomach. I remember that clearly—red everywhere and the taste of it and pushing my face inside her to bite into her and rip her apart.
“I mean, I killed that other Hunter in Geneva. I broke her neck. I thought that was bad enough. But this one—I had my head, my snout, inside her.”
“That was the animal. The other you.”
“The animal’s still me. Another part of me.” I take a breath before I say, “She was still screaming, Gabriel. I had my face buried in her and she was still screaming.”
I look away and then back to Gabriel. “I thought having my Gift would be great and in a way it is. I feel stronger physically but inside, right inside, in that place where you got lost or whatever, I’m . . . it’s like there’s someone, something else living in me. And he comes out and takes over. But I know he’s still me, another part of me, a completely wild, uncaring me.” I pause, take a breath, and I tell him, “I killed Kieran too.”
“Kieran? Annalise’s brother?”
I nod. “I’d seen him at Mercury’s cottage and I thought about killing him—I mean, fighting him and stabbing him—but I didn’t do it. I walked away. But then he and his partner trailed me. Nesbitt killed his partner and I, the animal me, killed Kieran.”
And I’m beginning to remember more of it now. “Kieran screamed too. Once. I ripped his throat out. I can remember the taste of him and how slick he felt in my mouth. I licked his blood.”