“He’s not my boyfriend, Dren.” Whatever we saw on the stairs tonight … it was not Ti.
“You should have seen him, rooting around inside my thigh every other night. Like he was gutting a chicken.” Dren played with his damaged leg, rolling it back and forth on the ground. It flopped from side to side like a twisted toy. “What did I ever do to him, other than threaten to kill you?”
Hector turned to me. “Where are we taking him? We need to take him somewhere, before I beat his head in.”
“Okay.” I fanned out my hands. As much as I didn’t want to take him back to my place, I inhaled to offer it up. Then Jorgen appeared, racing back down the street, a nightmare in full flight. “Oh, thank God.”
Hector groaned. “Goddammit, not that thing again.” We moved out of Jorgen’s way as he came to kneel down, offering his neck to Dren.
“You’d better behave this time, or I’ll skin you, I swear I will,” the vampire warned.
Jorgen closed his eyes, and Dren bit in. Hector made a repulsed face, and there was no way not to hear the slurping noises while Dren sucked at Jorgen’s neck. Just when I thought the noises alone would make me wretch, Dren pulled back and tottered up to standing. Hector and I jumped even farther back. “How can you—”
“I’m a vampire. I heal quickly, when fed. Even on blood as disgusting as a Hound’s.” He was still emaciated, but at least his bones were whole. A trail of Jorgen’s blood stained his chin. “That’s why they used the zombie. I couldn’t feed on him.” Jorgen lurched up, and Dren leaned against his side.
“Where are you going, Dren?”
“Away. To shun you,” he said, and laughed. “To heal. And sleep. And leave this place for good.”
“Whatever magic those people are using—it’s powerful, Dren. You know it yourself.” I took a step nearer to him, hands out, pleading.
“Please don’t try to appeal to the altruist in me. There is none.” Dren started walking away, one arm slung around Jorgen’s neck.
“Don’t kill anyone tonight, Dren,” I called after him.
He turned back to smile wickedly. “You’re not the boss of me.” And then waved weakly with his healing arm.
Dammit. I still wanted him to help me. If only I’d made him promise more precisely—and if only he weren’t a jerk. I didn’t want to admit that maybe he was right, maybe by denying me he was actually helping my mother. And yet I didn’t want all this to be for nothing. I’d almost gotten killed, I’d left an innocent person behind, and I still hadn’t saved my mom. I wanted to run after him, yelling at him until he changed his mind. But I couldn’t. He was running now. Not to avoid me, but because he—a vampire, fearless and occasionally psychotic—was afraid.
I watched him rush down the street until he was hidden in shadow.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“Good riddance.” Hector rounded his car, tossed the tire iron back into his trunk, and slammed it shut.
“What time is it? We’ve got to go tell Luz.” I started pacing. I didn’t want to get back into the car. It felt like maybe three or four. Plenty of time for Luz to go in and rescue Adriana.
“You can’t tell her, Edie—you’ll start a war.”
I stopped and stared at him. “Luz wouldn’t be starting anything—she’d be finishing it. You did not see what I saw.”
“Innocent people would die, Edie—”
I pointed back the way we’d come. “There’s an innocent person up there being starved to death and tattooed with bones. I don’t really care if some other people die, as long as she gets free.”
“No,” Hector said, decisively.
“Why are you protecting them? I thought you hated Maldonado?”
“You don’t understand—”
“Because you haven’t told me!” I yelled. After tonight, I had no patience for games.
“Edie!” He took hold of my shoulders and shook me. And then his face changed. His tan skin lightened, and his dark eyes went blue.
It took me a moment longer than it should have to place what was happening, it had been so long. Hector wasn’t Hector anymore. His face was changing, into the face of someone else I knew. “Asher? Oh, my God.” I put my hand to my mouth to muffle a scream. “Why—why didn’t you tell me he was you?”
He let go of me and stepped back. “I was trying to hide.” His face changed, more slowly, toward the Asher I used to know.
“No. Don’t. Just stay Hector, okay?” I didn’t need any more blasts from my past tonight.
“Okay,” he said, his voice low.
I couldn’t believe that Hector had been Asher this entire time. That he’d known me, from before. We’d been friends, and more than friends, and he’d hidden himself from me—why?
“Have you been him … all along?” I asked. He nodded slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Edie.”
“Oh. Tell me. How was it supposed to be? I would have wanted to know!” I wanted to lean in and hit him. I couldn’t believe he’d lied to me. “All this time I’ve been trying to do things and get help, and you knew who I was, and you knew what I’d seen—you could have fucking helped me.”
“No. I couldn’t have.” He stepped back closer to the streetlight and arched his back, running his hands through his dark hair, changing fully back to Hector. “You don’t know what I’ve been through—”
“Because I didn’t know!” I accused him.
He turned and I saw him fight to keep his emotions in check, stopping himself from yelling back at me. “You’re not the only one who has problems, Edie.”
That shut me up. I was still pissed off, but leery. “What’s wrong?”
His eyes scanned the ground, as if he were looking for where to begin. “Do you remember when that shapeshifter punched you on Y4?”
“Yeah.” Gina and I had been taking care of him, and he’d gone wild, trying to escape. He’d lost control of his ability to shapeshift, and had wound up going through everyone he’d ever met before. “He was insane.”
“Funny you should put it like that.” Asher inhaled and exhaled deeply. “What was happening to him happens to all shapeshifters, eventually. If they don’t take steps.”
I frowned, and thought back to the event. “But you said he’d been tortured by vampires, I remember—”
“I lied.” Asher cut me off. “That was only half the truth. I didn’t want to explain at the time.” His frown deepened as he stared at the ground. “No one likes to talk about how they’re going to die.”
I waited for him to go on.
“You can’t be a shapeshifter forever, Edie. You either touch too many people, or you get too old, and something starts to break inside.” He touched his chest. “You can’t hold yourself together like you used to. The person you know you are fades, and if you’re not careful, you get replaced by all the people you’ve touched—by everyone else you have inside. There’s only two ways out: Either you go crazy, or you pick someone else inside to be.” Asher stretched his hand out and looked at it as if the fingers there were unfamiliar to him. “It happens to all of us eventually.”
“I don’t understand.” Asher was supposed to be gone, just like everything else from before the shun. And now he was here—and I was going to lose him again, already? “So you picked being Hector? Over … going crazy?”
Asher nodded.
“Is Hector real?”
“He’s a clinic doctor in Miami. I touched him years ago, and started being him in Port Cavell after New Year’s. We were the same age, and he has no family. The real Hector doesn’t know he has a doppelganger here, and he never will.”
“And so … who are you then, now?” I asked, squinting at him.
“Asher all the way. Still. But I’ve been trying to be Hector. To let him win.” His eyes finally found mine again. “I need to let myself go. But seeing you every day has been making it hard.”
