At that, Gavriel looked up again, his gaze catching Tana’s. She couldn’t read his expression, but she could tell he wasn’t pleased. One of Midnight’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, chipped silver nail polish and onyx rings on her fingers.
Winter studied Aidan’s face. “You really are, aren’t you?”
“He was bitten last night,” said Gavriel, leaning forward, black hair hanging in his face. “He can control the hunger now, for short periods, more or less, but it will become worse. He has maybe another day or two before he ought to be restrained.”
Tana expected Aidan to give some response, but he was quiet. Maybe he hadn’t realized it would get worse. Tana thought of her mother screaming up from the basement and shuddered.
She thought of the way her skin had felt chilled when she’d woken. She wasn’t sure why Aidan hadn’t said anything about the possibility of her being Cold—whether he was being nice or whether he figured they would be less impressed if it wasn’t him alone who was dangerous—but either way she was grateful.
“Can I interview you?” Midnight asked Aidan, pulling out her phone and fiddling with it, opening some app. “For the blog? Can you describe what it feels like—the hunger?”
“Careful,” Winter said, putting his hand on his sister’s arm.
Tana could see that Midnight wasn’t listening. Her mouth was slightly open, fascinated, a mouse in love with a snake.
“Come on,” Midnight said to Aidan, losing her cool affect entirely. She bounced on her dirty ballet flats. “Please. I’ve never talked to anyone experiencing what you are. I am so curious—and my readers would be supercurious, too. It must be amazing to have all that power running through your veins.”
“It’s like you’re hollow,” Aidan said, looking into the camera as if he was ready to devour all the viewers, looking as if he were an understudy for one of those online vampire celebrities. “Hollow and empty, and there’s only one thing that matters.”
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Tana said, walking over to Gavriel.
He held out a cup to her, the one she’d seen beside him on the hood when she woke. His black shirt was stretched tight against his chest, and he had a crumpled paper bag resting beside him. “They say a long sleep is the best cure for all sickness.”
She took a long swallow of the coffee. It was too sweet and choked with cream, as though it had been mixed by someone who had no idea what it was supposed to taste like—someone who hadn’t tasted food in a long while. She reached for the bag. “What’s in here? Doughnuts?”
He turned away, as though he didn’t want to watch her open it. “Take it. That’s for you as well.”
The bag turned out to hold a necklace of Bohemian garnets clustered together like pomegranate seeds, with a huge garnet-studded locket the size of a fig hanging from the center point. The gold clasp on the back was broken, as though it had been ripped from someone’s throat, and the locket itself was empty. It rested on a bed of loose bills, some ink-stained, some smeared brownish-red, some single dollars and some twenties mixed in with a few euros, all jammed together in a messy pile.
“Where did you get all this?” she asked.
At that moment, Midnight screamed. Tana whirled toward them and felt Gavriel’s cold hands closed around her. Frozen fingers dug into her skin just below her rib cage. His grip was so firm it was like being held by a bronze figure.
Midnight was on the ground, her phone tossed to one side, her hands scrabbling to push Aidan away. He crouched on top of her, pushing her velvet shirt off her shoulder. Winter had hold of one of Aidan’s arms and was trying to pull him backward.
Tana’s feet kicked out ineffectually against the car bumper as she was dragged up into the air. She felt Gavriel’s chest against her back, smooth and chilled as stone. She felt the icy curve of his jaw where it rested against the top of her head.
“Hush, Tana,” Gavriel said, sliding his cheek downward over her hair, so that he could murmur against her throat. Terror overwhelmed her, vast and animal. Her body took over, twisting and writhing and clawing. It was like being in that dark basement again, her mother’s cold lips giving her one final kiss.
“Hush,” he said. “It’s almost over.”
“No!” Tana shouted, struggling uselessly. “No, no, no. I have to help him. Get off of me.”
Then, suddenly, he did, hands sliding free of her. She staggered away, nearly falling to her knees.
Winter had let go of Aidan’s arm in preference for pulling him away from Midnight by his hair. His head lashed back and forth, Midnight’s hand up under Aidan’s jaw, pushing him away from her. But he was close, close enough for his teeth to snap just above the bare skin of her arm. His fingernails raked at her shoulder, making bloody runnels.
Her screams spiraled up into the night air.
For a moment, Tana’s mind was blank. Then she rushed over, crouching down, so she could dig her hands into Midnight’s armpits and haul her.