Jealousy

Narrigil, Present Time

The sports field was an open-air version of the cages in which the Van Helsings had placed Lyric and Niarthen in Havermouth. The only shelter the occupants received from the sun and the weather was a thin sheet of tarpaulin spread as a roof above them. Some had managed to tear and pull the sheet into their cage and used it as a blanket, or privacy shield. And from that, and the general stench, Lyric knew that they had been there for some time.

The occupants of the cages were werewolves and vampires in the majority, but also humans. As they made their way through the walkways between the rows of cages, one of the Mer spoke sharply to Niarthen, who stopped and turned to Lyric.

“We are told to be wary of those in the cages. They are not right.”

“Not right,” Lyric repeated. “Do they mean zombie?” She ran her eye over a woman who watched her through the bar. The woman looked normal, except for the way she stared at them. There were no obvious wounds to show that she