“You know what happened, Cole. We’ve been doing everything we can.”
“I thought you got seeded too.”
“I did. I even thought this might be a good learning experience for you. Nymar sometimes try to seed us just to slow us down or sometimes just to give us that extra little kick when they can. Our healing serum will heal wounds, but the spore are concentrated Nymar. They’re small but tough. A shot or two of the antidote is usually enough to kill it as long as it gets done within ten minutes or so. After that the spore takes root and starts to change you. Your organs, your circulation, everything. That’s why our Resurrection Vial comes with a shot of antidote to go along with it. Turning into a Nymar will heal damn near anything, but there’s no way to heal the Nymar part. Any Skinner that gets turned has to be hunted and put down before—”
Gritting his teeth against what now felt like a constant gnawing in the middle of his chest, Cole said, “I know that. What about me? This thing is ripping me up and there’s nothing you can do?”
“That’s just the spore doing its thing. It won’t kill you, but it will burrow and move around to where it needs to go. It feeds on blood, so it’s got more than enough for it to grow as it moves. Normally, it’s not so long before it finds its way to your heart.”
“Kind of like Yogi Bear being called to the big pic-i-nic basket,” Cole said, and chuckled.
A smile cracked across Paige’s face, which also unleashed a short stream of fresh tears. “Yeah. A stupid way to put it, but that’s kind of it.”
“I’m good with stupid.”
“Yes you are.”
Paige allowed her arm to drop. Pulling in another breath, she raised it high again and stared down at him with renewed intensity. “The antidote doesn’t work on the Nymar with those stripes. It doesn’t work on their spore either. I can’t let you turn into one of them. I just … can’t.”
“Here we go,” Daniels said as he once again stumbled into Cole’s sight. Now that the Nymar had something to do, he seemed more like his usual preoccupied self. There was a square plastic plate in his hands, and when he turned it around, he revealed the other side to be a mirror.
The first thing Cole noticed was how bad he looked. His face was never something he fawned over, but it was disconcerting to see just how far it had strayed from his mental self-image. His eyes were sunken and dim. Not bloodshot. Not watery. They simply didn’t have the clarity that one would find in eyes that were connected to a living thing. His skin was pale and clammy, which wasn’t a surprise. Daniels mercifully angled the mirror down so he could now see the base of his own neck and the upper portion of his chest.
“There,” Daniels said while tapping his stubby sausage fingers against Cole’s sternum. “See?”
Thin black markings writhed beneath his skin as if someone had dipped a needle into living ink and traced a sparse road map beneath his skin. They weren’t as noticeable as the markings of most Nymar but were definitely there, shifting and stretching. If he concentrated, Cole could feel every one of them scraping against the inside of his body like arms from a daddy longlegs reaching for the surface.
“You’ve been turned, Cole,” Daniels said as if talking about a friend of his that had recently died. “If we could have gotten to you before it took hold, we might have—”
“Might have nothing,” Paige said in a voice that had been forced from the back of her throat using every bit of strength she had. “He’s a Skinner, for Christ’s sake. This shouldn’t even be happening to him! You saw what happened to me, Cole?”
The memory of Paige doubled over and punching the ground back in the tunnels seemed like one he’d picked up a decade ago, but it was there. He must have nodded because Paige nodded back and continued.
“Hope may have seeded me to slow me down or she may have just wanted to pay me back for old times,” she said. “This was different. That other Nymar could have killed you. Instead, she held on so she could do this. We’re going to find out why.”
Cole had become transfixed with the reflected image of the wriggling tendrils in his chest. Even though he could feel them, the sensations moved in a different pattern than what he saw. There were overlapping intrusions, fibers pushing his organs aside while wrapping around others. The lump in his chest slid along the side of his heart to cup it like a smooth, confident hand while stretching ever outward, digging deeper.
“I might be able to find out something if I ask some people,” Daniels offered.
“It’ll be too late by then,” Paige said. “It’ll be too late an hour from now.”
“But I’m not dying,” Cole said. “I’ll just …”
“You’ll just grow three sets of fangs and start craving blood,” Paige stated without any visible trace of emotion. “You’ll become one of the things we hunt.”
“I can still be a Skinner.”
“You mean like the Nymar that work with those Toronto assholes?” she asked. “They betrayed us. They betrayed all of us. They may have driven every Skinner in this country underground. No Skinner in their right mind will trust a Nymar to join their ranks again.”
The mirror being held above Cole’s chest wavered as the man behind it nervously cleared his throat.
“You too, Daniels,” she said. “I don’t suspect you had anything to do with this, but we’ll have to watch our backs.”
“Even more than I do now?”
“Yes.”
The mirror was pulled away and Daniels looked down at Cole to show him a vaguely apologetic shrug. Suddenly, his eyes widened. “Maybe I could get it out of him!”
“Yeah!” Cole said. “Maybe he can get it out of me!”
Although he couldn’t see Rico, Cole could feel thick hands tightening on his shoulders as if they couldn’t decide whether they were comforting him or making sure he didn’t squirm his way off the chopping block. “Once the tendrils start to show, it’s too late. That means it’s found its spot and is making itself at home.”
“I’ve seen it happen, Cole,” Paige said quietly. “And I won’t see it happen to you.” Without another word or even another breath, Paige dropped the hammer that she’d been holding over him.
Cole knew what she was capable of. He knew what kind of woman Paige was. He’d seen her throw herself into battles that would have made anyone else run for cover. Even with all of that in mind, knowing as much as he did about what crawled around the dark corners of the world and how much else could be out there, he was shocked to see that weapon come toward his chest.
There was no hesitation in Paige’s movement.
There was no trace of anything clouding her judgment.
There was no pity in her eyes.
Sorrow, but no pity.
Perhaps she wanted him to see as much because she kept her eyes open for every, eternally long fraction of a second it took for her to stab him with the crude weapon. He also saw the angry surprise that twisted her features when he managed to grab her wrist with both hands before she could drive the stake home.
When he strained to hold her back, Cole felt a jolt of strength delivered to the muscles in his arms. Even with that, he wasn’t able to stop her before the tip of the stake punctured his torso. Stopped well short of her goal, Paige closed her eyes and leaned in to put even more of her weight behind the stake.
“What are you doing?” he shouted.
Rather than answer him, she clenched her eyes shut even tighter and turned away.
“Give me a chance,” Daniels pleaded.
“We’ve been talking about this for almost half an hour and you haven’t come up with a chance to save him,” she said. “I’m not letting him turn. Even if he would become a regular Nymar, it wouldn’t be worth it.”
“What’s wrong with being a regular Nymar? I function as one! I’m trustworthy. Maybe it’s just the seeding process that’s altered. You don’t have to—”
“Don’t tell me what I have to do!”
It was all Cole could do to keep the stake from going in any farther. More strength was coming from somewhere, but he knew it was more than his body could offer. He could barely even feel his arms anymore. His muscles were ready to snap off the bone and roll up like cheap window shades.
The spore had stopped moving.
It had stopped digging.
It was part of him.
