Page 36 of Before We Burn

“Yeah, because he believed they were a threat!” he shouts back at me.

I stand there shocked for a moment, my mind racing with hurt and disbelief. “Sure, he thought they were a threat. But now you know they weren’t. Doesn’t that make you want to help them?”

The room goes silent. Everett won’t look at me, and I’m getting disgusted looking at him. He’s angry, his brows pulled together creating small lines between them. His mouth is set in a thin line, his eyes filled with anger and hate.

Good. It’s better for him to hate me.

Bunny steps forward, each step a gentle glide until she stands in front of Everett with a Pod phone. I look at the phone then Everett, who takes it hesitantly. Constantine stands in the corner, giving me a knowing smile.

“If he gets hurt⁠—”

“He’ll get hurt either way,” Bunny interjects. “Just one way leads to death while the other only leads to pain.”

Everett hesitates, but even I understand what Bunny’s saying. Everett’s friend’s life is in danger, and it isn’t because of us.

The sound of a number being dialed echoes through the silent room, and my eyes glance to the fireplace then back to Bunny who is now staring at me. I look at her uncomfortably as she walks over to take my hands.

“She stayed to distract them away from me. She knew what would happen to her—I warned her—but she didn’t care.” Bunny’s voice is small and gentle. Something I need right now. I take her hand in mine, gripping it tightly as another man's voice echoes.

“Well, look who’s still alive.” Benny’s voice projects through the Pod phone. The hologram displays only his upper half, and I raise a brow at Connie. He isn’t bad looking, either. He looks built and strong, his tan skin making his hazel eyes pop.

“Yeah,” he looks over to me, “still alive. Listen, Ben. I need you to find a way to come meet me. I can send you the coordinates. I think we might be working for the wrong side in all of this.”

I walk away from the conversation, not interested in how much convincing this is going to take. Bunny follows me, even though I really need two minutes to be alone.

I sit at the kitchen table, looking out the sliding glass door to the vast backyard. Bunny sits next to me and does the same. I hoped she would grow uncomfortable with the silence and leave so I could have a moment to not be okay, but she seems fine with it, her presence easing the spiraling in my mind.

“Would you like to talk about how you’re feeling?” Bunny asks in a way that sounds unnatural, and I chuckle. She means well, but it’s obvious she is uncomfortable.

“No, not really.” It’s a lie. I would love to tell anyone how I’m feeling, but I can’t right now—not when someone could overhear me. I don’t want to be seen as weak, especially right now.

“Ask the question,” Bunny says, her voice distant.

I look at her confused, unsure what question she’s talking about. “I don’t have one.”

The reality is I have too many of them. Each of them more personal and more intense than the last. I think about asking about Sahara and what happened before she died. I consider asking about Bunny herself.

She was just a Bloodling a few days ago—she had no control over her abilities, no clear sense of them—and now she seems to know everything. Past, present, and future.

That’s when the question comes, and I can’t help but think she led me into the conversation she wanted to have. There’s a reason for everything.

“Do you remember your human life?”

The question feels too personal, like I’m prying. But she wanted me to ask something, and that’s what I’m the most curious about.

“Yes,” she says, matter-of-factly.

“Was it worth it? Being changed?”

She looks out the sliding door, her deep breaths causing her shoulders to rise and fall in a rhythmic manner. “Yes and no. Human life is complex. You live every day aware of your mortality, and the closer you get to grey hair and wrinkles, the more death comes to greet you. My human life was filled with hunger and darkness. My parents—or who I believed were my parents—left me on the side of the road because they couldn’t feed me. They thought I would be better off.” Bunny shrugs, but I feel the sadness ooze off of her.

“I was different, even as a human. I would see things, hear things. I’ve always had this sense to me that others couldn’t explain. So yes, it was worth changing because I get to meet vampires like you and Constantine who think I’m a little strange, but it doesn’t deter you from getting to know me. You try to understand, even though I make you uncomfortable. You try to help, even though you don’t know how to help yourself. But I won't pretend I don’t miss the ignorance of being human.”

Waves of pity hit me. I’ve wished over and over again to remember my human life, to see if the people who knew me missed or grieved me in some type of way. I never considered I might’ve been hated—a completely different person than I am now.

“You were loved,” Bunny says, gently. “Deeply loved. You don’t have a tragic backstory. Just unfortunate circumstances.”

My breath hitches and I sit there, unmoving, as I feel the tug on my heart strings. I wish I could see inside her mind, just take a peek at what she saw about me. I have never cared much about the future, always too cocky to plan ahead…