“I just wish you’d told me. I would have told you not to go,” she said, patting the top of my hand. “I don’t care about any violent episodes, and I know my dad won’t, either, if I talk to him.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Please, don’t talk to him. Don’t talk to anyone about this.”
“But—”
“Your dad will be mad that I told you this much, and—”
“Why would he be mad?” she interjected. “Unless something else is going on. And there must be. There’s a reason Bronx runs so hot and cold. A reason so many of my friends go to bed without any injuries, but wake up covered with them. A reason my dad has a horror dungeon below the house. A reason he tolerates Cole’s dad—a man he once hated.”
Mr. Ankh and Mr. Holland had once hated each other? “Look, Reeve—”
“No. I’m tired of being in the dark, Ali. So very tired. I need to be enlightened. I crave it. It’s become an obsession.”
Dark. Light.
Lies. Truth.
“If I tell you, you might long for the days of blissful ignorance, and I think that’s what your father fears most.” But then, she’d finally know what was out there and would be able to take measures to protect herself. Measures Mr. Ankh would never be able to take from her.
“Please,” she said.
“Let me think about it, okay?” I said. “I could get a lot of people in trouble.”
That was more than I’d ever offered before, and she nodded gratefully.
“So...Ethan seems nice,” I said, taking the conversation in another direction.
I was relieved when she said, “He is, he really is,” without pressing me for more.
There was no dreamy sigh from her, no smile. “I sense a but coming on.”
Her shoulders sagged the slightest bit. “He really likes me. He’s sweet, attentive and last year his mother died, and now his little sister is dealing with leukemia, so he’s learned to appreciate life and live every day to the fullest, but...I can’t get you know who out of my head.”
Yeah. “Believe me, I get it. When it comes to Cole, I’m the same way.”
Kat cleared her throat. “We’re, uh, back. Ethan was missing his girl.”
Reeve jumped guiltily, her cheeks flushing.
“You guys make up?” Ethan claimed the seat on the other side of her and snuggled up, offering his warmth. If he’d heard Reeve’s words about Bronx, he didn’t act like it.
“We did,” she replied.
“Thank God,” Kat said. “It’s about time, and seriously, go me for setting it up.”
Ethan nodded, kissed Reeve’s temple. “I agree.”
It was obvious he cared for her, and I could see why she had chosen him. Despite her feelings for Bronx, they could have something normal. No secrets. No midnight battles with the undead. No suspecting everyone they met of foul play. No worrying if the other would come home every night—or be eaten.
Hungry...so hungry...
As the words whispered through my mind, I jolted to my feet and spun, searching, trying to squash a sudden bead of panic. My emotions had been under control. This shouldn’t be happening.
“What’s wrong?” Kat asked.
Hungry, hungry, hungry.
HUNGRY.
Hurt. Maim. Kill.
Soon...
“Ali, your eyes,” she said.
No! I gasped for breath as I stumbled away from the group. Reeve stood, already reaching for me. Ethan grabbed her by the wrist and jerked her behind him, as if I’d sprouted horns, fangs and a tail. Maybe I had.
HUNGRYHURTMAIMKILLSOON.
The whispers... So loud... Blending together, somehow calling me, drawing me.
Kat withdrew her phone and started typing. Texting Frosty to come help me?
“No. Don’t,” I said, and tried to turn left. Somehow I’d lost control of my body and turned right. My feet moved one in front of the other without any command from my brain. I drew closer and closer to a creepy mausoleum, the whispers continuing to escalate. Surely my eardrums would burst, unable to withstand the chatter. “Syringe. Purse.”
I halted at the double doors.
HUNGRYHURTMAIMKILLSOON!
I leaned forward—until I could go no further and my spirit separated from my body, ripping from me with painful force, as if pushed. Inside the building, cold air nearly flash-froze my skin.