Now I can understand why people living in London prefer the subway to cars. The traffic here is so slow! There are joggers overtaking us. The speed suits my mood. Every moment of our crawl along the street is taking me further away from my Mate. If she is still my Mate. If she’ll still have me, after this. After I abandoned her. She saved me, and I abandoned her.
The day is grey, like my misery. The slow drag of the traffic matches the drag of my thoughts. I’m trying to do the right thing, but is this the right thing? Sarah doesn’t think so. My parents wouldn’t think so. They’d have killed Jade without a thought. That leads me to think about Reese. The idea of tracking him down and killing him for being a Hunter makes me feel sick, but that’s what I was raised to do. To fight Hunters and every other threat to my Pack.
Ella and I are crammed together on the passenger seat. I know she’s there, pressed against me, smelling of child and girl and the cereal and milk she p
I am exposed, laid bare before the audience. I start the whole performance, solo, standing in the space beside the concert grand piano in front of the orchestra. Twin spotlights pick out myself, violin cradled beneath my cheek, and Amos, seated with his hands poised on the keys. I am still burning with anger, and I have no place for fear, not even in the harsh light that cages me. I fill the auditorium with my rage, letting my strings howl where I cannot. The rest of the orchestra sits in silence as Amos joins me on the piano, echoing my melody. The piano sounds weak, but perhaps that’s because of the roar of the fury within me, pounding in my ears. The music darts between us, first with one, then the other, then with both, my fingers flying across the strings to match the rippling notes called up by Amos’s hands as they dance across the keys. We are half way through when I realise what Amos is doing. He is gradually getting faster. His part is not easy, of course i
“After the attack. Shelley. Did you, or any of the others, call the police?” Shelley nods, but holds up a finger to stop me from jumping back in with any comment about it. “We had to. You two were missing. Someone was going to ask questions eventually. The longer we left it, the more suspicious we’d look. Don’t worry, we lied. We said we thought it was a gang of some sort, probably all on drugs. They tried to mug us, then started fighting amongst themselves so some of us managed to run off, but we didn’t see what happened to you.” She shrugs. “We thought if they found any vampire bodies, they’d think it was them who killed each other. I don’t think they did though, or they’d have been back asking questions. They haven’t given a call back or anything. We didn’t file a missing persons report. I don’t think anyone else has either?” “Maybe Mr Patel would, but…” Sarah didn’t. Sarah just came to get me. Look where that got her. I shake my head. “Nobody wou
There is a figure sitting on the front steps, huddled and dark beneath the neon spotlight of the street lighting. His feet are tucked in, his arms wrapped around his shins and his chin resting on his knees. I don’t need to be close enough to see his face to know who it is.I stop when there are still a couple of steps between us. If I get too close, I don’t know what I will do. Hit him, kick him, fall into him and howl. There is an invisible line between us. If I cross it, I will overload and break. There are too many words tumbling around my head, wanting to be poured out of me, needing to be set free. I snatch at my thoughts, scrabbling to find just one and voice it. I sound small. Lost. “You left me there.”The figure on the steps shakes his head. “You didn’t need me. You never have.” He sounds just as small. How dare he? How dare he pretend he’s the powerless one here?“I needed you to support me!”
I’m expecting the slap. I’m sure I’ve earned it, from Sarah’s point of view, although I don’t know what else I could have done. I’m not expecting the kiss. My scalp stings with the clutch of her fingers. I stumble back a little, and she pushes into me. My legs catch against the couch. As I overbalance she pulls her head away but follows me down. I thud into the couch back and she wrenches me sideways so I slither down the cushions onto my back. She’s on top of me, her mouth back on mine, biting into my lower lip.I think I make a sound of protest, my hands fumbling to find her shoulders and lift her away from me. She snatches her hands back from my head, dragging hairs out as she does so. She bats at my hands, grabbing my wrists and shoving my hands up above my head, against the couch arm. Her kiss is like a punch in the mouth, wild and angry.My legs are twisted to one side. Sarah straddles my stomach, knees bracketing my ribs
I’m an idiot... Aiden’s an idiot... I’m walking myself right back into this impossible idea of destined soulmates… my God I’m a bad romance trope… he didn’t trust me… I didn’t trust him… he thought I was leaving him… I was leaving him, because he didn’t trust me… but he was right not to trust me… I brought the ghosts… I killed all of them… the ghosts followed my orders… They’re not people, they’re monsters… Aiden thinks he’s a monster… He’s not the monster…I’m the monster.I called the ghosts. I commanded them. Everything they did, they did because I willed it. There were dozens of vampires-things-maybe people in that building. Maybe even hundreds. Now it’s empty.The power at my command is terrifying.I haven’t cried like that since I as a child.
I am in my Mate’s den. Everything smells of her. That’s good. That means we’re safe. She’s found water that’s good to drink, and she’s found human stuff that has made my wound heal faster. She’s a good Mate, even though she has no wolf. I’m glad she’s not angry with us any more. Aiden thought she was going to Reject us because she was so angry. That’s a thought so bad I can hardly think about it. Aiden made her angry because he didn’t kill all the vampires. Why didn’t he kill all the vampires? Vampires smell of dust and death, and I don’t like them. I suppose we don’t have to kill them if they’re not hunting us, even though they’re dangerous. Like mountain lions, or grizzly bears. We kill them if they threaten us or our pups. We keep them away from our dens. If one starts killing too many of the human’s animals it can make the humans chase them into our territory with guns, so we hunt them too. Vampires are like mountain lions and grizzly bears. They’re all dangerous
I sleep well. My furry wolven teddy-bear seems to have been just the thing to quiet my chaotic thoughts. I wake well rested but with a sense of dread. I have to face the orchestra again today. I’m sure everything will die down eventually, but right now I feel as if I am waiting to have salt thrown into fresh wounds. I have less figurative wounds to worry about. I extract myself from the duvet and the wolf- and there is something I could never have imagined happening not much more than a week ago- and peer at Frost’s belly. The scabs look old, and are starting to peel. They probably itch, but he’s not scratching at them, just peering at me sleepily and thumping his tail on the sofa when I run my hands through his fur. Frost is a bit of an attention-junkie, I think as I remember my younger brothers and sisters clustered around him. “Breakfast on four legs or two?” I ask him, the end of my question almost lost in the huge yawn that cracks my jaw. “I can find yo
I’m guessing my face is bright red. It feels hot enough to cook an egg on it. It’s not often I feel like disowning my own wolf, but Frost seems to be aiming to get me there. I have to speak, all the same. I think part of the reason Sarah was so angry with me was that we haven’t talked enough about things to understand each other properly. It’s hard, it’s really, really hard, but I’m doing my best to talk now. I could curl up into a ball and die of embarrassment, but I’m doing my best. She’s gone sort of distant, but not in a bad way. Her feelings are kind of fuzzy, out of focus. Distracted. It’s probably because of what I just told her, not about her orchestra. That was a different sort of distraction. Worried, guilty and angry. We should hunt them all down and make them pay, Frost tells me. Then she wouldn’t have an orchestra to play with, I point out to him. I think she likes making music. She just doesn’t like how they’re treating her