Page 28

I hide like usual after a hunt, needing to put myself together. Once I find an employee locker room, I sit heavily on the wooden bench, my gaze going faraway, not seeing anything in front of me.

Their thoughts float across my mind, and I try not to listen, not wanting to hear their worry or disgust. Unlike them, I have no choice. What was done to us was horrific, but in some ways, I think I might have gotten the worst of it. Either I return and be fed there or I have to hunt and kill innocents. There is no winning.

If I could die, I would have let myself pass a long time ago, not wishing to be a burden, but even if I could, it would break this bond and the others along with it.

If one of us perishes, we all do.

I wonder if Ferol knows that?

Shaking off the morbid thoughts, I glance down and sigh. There’s blood on my chest, but luckily, there are only a few splatters on my shirt since I don’t have a change of clothes. Still, I shrug out of them, carefully laying my outfit and boots on the bench.

My leather holsters, hat, and boots were from the first person I ever killed after escaping. He was a cowboy with a brilliant smile, and he was stupid enough to follow me into the woods. After I feasted, I felt bad, so part of me honoured the kill by keeping him alive this way, and I guess it stuck. Turning away from the guns, I step beyond the rusty lockers, finding some toilet cubicles and a few shower stalls. Cranking the silver tap, I stick my hand under the sputtering spray. It remains cold, but water is water and I’ve had worse. Slipping under the inconsistent flow, I press my hands to the wall and hang my head, letting the spray wash away the blood. I watch it pinken as it slides down my skin and circles the drain. The cold water eventually numbs my skin, just like I wish it could numb the feelings inside me.

A noise has me looking up and pushing my hair back. I tilt my head and listen—breathing. It’s behind me, but it isn’t from one of us, so it’s her. Anger and hatred filter through me at what she sees. I suppose part of me wants to horrify her and prove I am the monster she thinks I am, so I turn. Her eyes stay on mine for a moment before dropping to my body, running over every jagged scar. One side of my entire pec is dissected with sharp lines, and there are more across my shoulders, abs, hips, and legs. I’m a walking wound, and I know what I look like. One time, the collector showed me to a visitor, and the woman screamed when she saw me.

Ferol does not. She runs her eyes over every inch of me as if leaving no scar unseen before raising those strange orbs to mine. “It must have hurt.”

Shock filters through me, and I turn away, hiding my face as I turn the shower off and shiver.

I whirl sharply when something warm and soft wraps around me, and I glance down to see a towel before looking at Ferol, who is holding it for me.

“Getting me to like you won’t make a difference. You know that, right? I’ll still kill you.”

“That isn’t why I’m doing this,” she murmurs.

“Then why are you?” I ask, staring her down, daring her to pity me.

“Because your pain called to me. You wear your scars on the outside, Emrys, but I wear mine on the inside.”

“What do you know of pain, little girl?” I hiss.

She reaches out, and I flinch as she closes the towel tighter around me with a soft, gentle tug before looking up at me. Like before, in the forest, I see the pain in her eyes. “I had a child.”

Shock fills me to my core, and I know the others feel it too.

“She was due in a few weeks. I was going to name her Hope. I lost her, and the very same night, I lost everything that was left of my humanity and innocence. That’s a feeling I’m assuming you know well. We all have our secrets. Well, I do. Maybe you don’t from each other.” She smiles. “You should warm up and get dressed.” She leaves me, and I just stare at the space she occupied.

She had a child? Bram’s soft voice is horrified. What do you think happened?

More like what happened to the father, Kitt mutters, but he seems gentle for once.

She was a kid herself when she was thrown in there, Raiden adds. Shit, this is getting complicated.

Don’t like her or feeling sorry for her, I think as I walk back to my clothes. It changes nothing. We have a job, and without it, we lose our freedom. Did you forget?

I didn’t. I just think the price is a lot higher now than we thought it would be, Bram replies.

I don’t say anything, but I know they sense my agreement. Each moment we spend with her makes it harder to hate her because when it comes down to it, she’s not a bad person. She’s lost, suffering, and angry at the world, and she’s seeking vengeance, something we understand. Deep down, she’s good, and mate bond or not, we will have to kill that good person.

Our freedom depends on it.

I couldn’t sleep that night, so I volunteered for sentry, leaning into the balcony outside and scanning the forest. The sound of the chairlift creaking keeps me company as the others rest. We should be able to move the day after tomorrow, and we need to be ready. Staying in one place too long is never good. She’s not the only one with enemies.

The night passes slowly, and I boredly scan the horizon until something catches my attention. Frowning, I step closer to the railing and peer into the darkness, trying to find what I saw.

I wait for the movement again, and then I see it. A shadow leaps onto the first chair on the lift, the swinging creak getting louder, and then the shadow leaps to the next one. The snap is loud as part of the chair falls, but the shadow keeps moving, and I step back. I reach for my gun as I send an alert to the others just as the thing opens its mouth, and a horrifying screech reaches my ears.

The chairs continue to move as the noise grows, and the others join me outside.