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“We aren’t those kinds of killers,” Steven said. “Now, this dose will keep you with us until midnight. Even if Tristan does find you before then, he won’t be able to do anything to save you. Then when midnight hits, we all find new beginnings.”
I could see someone close to the door. Not Steven. Smaller in frame, buzzed hair. He didn’t look very intimidating. He had to be someone Steven trusted, someone that was in this with him.
Someone I could use as leverage. It was another basic instinct kind of reaction. A lion cub hunting for the first time. A bumble of claws and teeth, except all I had was the butcher knife.
I grabbed the man and yanked him against me. I raised the knife and held it against his throat. Jesus Christ, I was holding a knife against a man’s throat. What the hell was happening.
And Gabe, he was there on my bed, in just a simple pair of white briefs, splayed out like a starfish. Just how all the victims were found. He was going to be next.
Holy fucking shit. What the fuck.
The man in my arms wasn’t struggling. In front of me was Steven, his face lit up by the ghostly white glow of a phone flashlight. My brain could hardly process what was happening. Shock made my legs turn to cement, which helped keep me from collapsing.
“Tristan… I didn’t want you finding out like this.” Steven put a hand up in the air, needle glinting in his hand. “Let Mason go.”
“Mason?” That name sounded familiar… From the bar. The Mason we had interviewed. The one who said he’d slept with the Midnight Chemist and got away.
“Let. Him. Go.”
Steven’s face twisted in a way I didn’t recognize him. I’d known him for close to a year now, having become good friends with the new guy in Atlanta who wanted some gay and bookish friends. He had been in my house, shared meals with me, had drinks with me.
“Why?” was all I could get out of my dry mouth. I glanced at Gabe, who seemed to be shaking off whatever drug he’d been given. His eyes were wide and focused on the knife in my hand. He wasn’t tied down to the bed. Maybe I could stall long enough for him to be able to get up and help me.
“Because I live with a monster in my chest, and I need to feed it, Trist. I have to. But I chose a way that wasn’t as painful as others. It’s a mercy.”
“It’s a mercy to stalk and torture your victims?” I asked. The man in my arms squirmed, but I held him a little tighter, unable to press the knife that close to his skin. I really hoped he couldn’t feel me shaking.
“That part is a mercy for me. It gives me a thrill I rarely ever feel. And with you, Tristan, the thrill was something I’d never experienced before. I don’t know if it’s because we’ve hung out so much or because you’re just that special. But Mason and I, we both fell for you.”
I shook my head. “Fucking sick. So the surveillance video? The masked man in my house? That was you or Mason?”
“Me,” Steven said. “I snuck into your house easy after I made a copy of your key, and I streamed that video footage to your TV during book club. I thought you’d need comfort, thought you’d come to me for it. But then you went to Gabriel, and I realized both of you needed to be handled.”
“But you and Mason?” I asked, slowly inching my way closer to the bed. I had to get to Gabe. That’s when a thought struck. A possible miscalculation.
Shit… was Mason a victim in all this? Did I just take a hostage hostage?
“Have an understanding,” Steven said. “Right, Mace?”
“Yes,” he said, his hands coming up to my forearm and yanking down. The force took me by surprise. I wasn’t a fighter; I was a writer. Mason could have sneezed and I likely would have dropped the knife. It fell from my hand and clattered onto the ground and was immediately snatched up by Steven.
A small, distant, far-off part of me felt relieved. No longer did I have to face the prospect of killing a man. Now, all I had to do was face the prospect of the end.
But maybe I could bargain. Maybe I could still get Gabriel out of here.
Mason moved to Steven’s side. An arm looped around Steven’s waist, his fingers gripping the dirty black T-shirt. My eyes widened. They weren’t just sidekicks; they were partners. The bartender had looked so saddened when we had asked him about his murdered boyfriend. “How could you?” I asked, hoping to buy some time. “He killed your boyfriend.”
“Stevenwasmy boyfriend,” Mason said. “We’ve always been together. Ever since we were kids. We met at a neighborhood New Year’s Eve party. Exactly at midnight. We made a promise that we’d meet again at midnight, and guess what happened?”
Steven’s face twisted into a grin. He now had a needle full of life-ending toxins inches away from Gabe’s exposed thigh with the butcher knife in his other hand, aimed out at me. There was a scar on his face I’d never seen before, painted in broad strokes of bleak white light and pitch-dark shadows. “My dad thought he could keep me from him, but that was always impossible.”
“Did you know he was the Midnight Chemist? From the beginning?”
Mason shook his head. “No, I didn’t know. But when he told me, I was okay with it. He gave me his reasoning and—” His voice cracked with emotion, like a loud whip in a silent room.
I cocked my head. Something clicked. “No. You weren’t okay with it. Not anymore. That’s why you gave us Steven’s real name at the bar. Because you wanted us to finally figure it out.”
Mason’s big brown eyes cracked open, like a nuclear explosion had just gone off inside his pupils.
