He had new powers. He had violent nightmares. And some buried part of him had known all along that when Reece saidempathy can’t hurt anyone, he was telling a lie.
And now he had the word for it—corruption.
Grayson just didn’t know Reece was at least partway corrupted already.
So he swallowed all his words, and rested his temple against the window. Grayson looked back at the road, and they rode without speaking, their silence filled by the quiet swish of windshield wipers and the soft Latin pop layered over the engine’s rumble.
Despite everything, after a few miles, Reece’s eyelids were closing on their own. The truck’s cab was warm and comfortable, and he was sleep-deprived, wrung out from too much adrenaline, his body tired and bruised. Grayson’s hoodie was butter-soft against his skin, the sleeves long enough that Reece could tuck his bare hands inside.
But as he felt himself start to drift into sleep, something tickled his mind, some terrible thought trying to take shape like glowing eyes in a dark room slowly showing claws and teeth.
Was corruption contagious?
Because if he was corrupted—and Cora had read him yesterday—
He bolted upright, hands covering his mouth.
“Care Bear?”
She’d read him yesterday and passed out after the read. And then she’d become a serial killer.
Had she become corrupted—because of him?
“Reece.” Grayson’s drawl was the most clipped Reece had ever heard it. “What’s going on?”
“I—”I’m a monster and I’ve made another monster what have I done Cora—
“Reece—”
But the truck disappeared as Reece was reliving the moments in McFeely’s passing the IT guy on the stairs.
Cold eyes, too cold for compassion about Hathaway’s death—
Pinched mouth, annoyed at having to help—
Tight jaw, angry that he’s seen a real empath, looking for ways to get small revenge—
“Pull over!”
Grayson swerved across three lanes of traffic. With a screech of tires, he pulled the truck into the forested shoulder. Reece fumbled for the door latch and this time it worked. He toppled from the truck into the cold night air, falling to his knees in the mud and wet grass before heaving up what little was left in his stomach.
“Ugh.”He managed to flop onto his back before his arms gave out. He let his head fall back against the ground and stared up at the clouded night sky, welcoming the biting cold of the icy rain dotting his face. “I am having a very bad day.”
Grayson leaned over him, broad shoulders and unreadable face filling his line of sight. “You all right?”
“I’ve been better,” Reece said weakly.
“Fair enough,” Grayson muttered. He crouched at Reece’s side and wrapped his arms around himself. “You were nearly asleep. I wouldn’t have expected insight to kick in. Something you want to tell me?”
Reece hesitated.
Grayson hadn’t said it with menace. It sounded like a genuine offer to listen. For all his talk of arrest, Grayson’s actions had been on Reece’s side all day, even after Reece had broken several laws and into Stone Solutions.
And most of all, at that moment, Grayson looked soharmless. Not the bogeyman at all, just a person, like everyone else, a Southern boy in Seattle trying to keep warm while he’d left his coat in the truck. Maybe he really was a specialist, not a hunter. Maybe he knew what was going on with Reece. Maybe Reece could tell him the truth.
But Grayson’s drawl still echoed in Reece’s mind.
You, most of all, have got no business trusting me.
