I know Carter’s right. Mindlessly, I fall into step beside him. Even though my body is aching and bruised. Even though I feel as though I’ve been hit by a truck. Even though I feel as though I’m leaving a chunk of myself behind.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Mel
I am alone. In a way I never have been before. Lily is lost to us. My mother is likely dead. My father has betrayed us all.
Yes, I have Carter. He’s a friend. He will be my companion in the search for a cure for Lily. He is hers in a way that he could never be mine. Not that I ever wanted him that way. I’m not jealous of that. Not jealous of him, but maybe just a little bit of what they have between them. He will search for the cure, he will fight for her, no matter what. He loves her deeply in a way I will never be loved. Could never be loved.
In the Before—when I was just Mel—I was forever apart from that kind of thing. I was okay with that. I didn’t yearn for it. But now, now I know what I am missing. That kind of love is something I can never have. Not with another vampire. I know that berserker vampire rage too well now. It is not something to be toyed with. But I certainly cannot have that love with a human, either. It is a strain even to be with Carter.
I am very much back where I was when I first became a vampire. Only more alone. I have no one now. Not even Sebastian.
He was never a friend, but he was a companion. I briefly consider going back to Sabrina. Throwing myself and Carter on her mercy. Perhaps she would take us in. But I am still not ready to create my own empire and to herd humans like kine. I am not ready for that. Going to her will be my last resort.
So instead, I must truly learn to be alone.
For a long time, we don’t say anything. Carter is concentrating on driving and I’m still shaking from my final encounter with Sebastian.
At some point, I look into the backseat. And see a dog sitting there. It’s huge and fluffy and takes up most of the backseat, but it’s sitting calmly with its head resting on his paws.
“We have a dog now?” I ask, hysterical laughter threatening to bubble up in my throat.
“Yeah,” Carter says. “It belonged to Ely.”
“Who?”
Carter is silent for a second, then he says, solemnly, “Ely was a friend. I couldn’t just leave him. And I thought . . . I don’t know, maybe a dog would come in handy.”
I don’t question his use of the past tense. I know too much about past tense friends. I nod, and let it go. “Do you think Roberto was right?” I ask.
“About what?”
“About Genexome Corporation. Do you think Sebastian really started the company? Do you think he’s the one behind the Tick virus?”
Carter is silent for long enough that I think he’s not going to answer me. Then he says, “I don’t know. Everything that I personally know about Genexome, I heard from Sebastian. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”
My mind is racing. If Roberto was telling the truth, then Sebastian had knowingly and willingly murdered millions. I have spent the last couple of months living with and being trained by the most evil man in history. But that is if Roberto has told me the truth. If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that vampires aren’t the most trustworthy sources of information. So how do I know which Sebastian I should believe in?
Under his tutelage, I’d been capable of things I’d never thought possible. Good things, yes, because I am physically stronger and emotionally more independent than I’d ever been before, but horrible things as well.
Was this how it began? The long, horrible slide into being a true vampire. Into being a creature so selfish and self-indulgent that I was willing to kill half the world to get what I wanted?
I felt Carter’s hand on my leg. He looked at me, concerned, almost as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. “I don’t know what’s true,” he said, “but I can tell you this. If there is a cure out there, we’ll find it. Whether Sebastian had it or Roberto had it, we’ll find it. We’ll find it ourselves. As for who made the virus in the first place, who knows? If I’ve learned anything from this, it’s that you can’t ever trust a vampire to tell you the truth.” A bitter laugh escapes from his lips. “You can’t trust vampires at all.”
His words pierce something deep inside of me. Yeah, he doesn’t mean them. Not like that. I guess he doesn’t really think of me as a vampire yet. But then, he doesn’t know the things I’ve done.
For a while, neither of us speaks. Carter just drives through the seemingly endless night. After a while, I’m afraid that he does realize what he’s said. That he knows how much he’s hurt me and is trying to think of how to apologize. I couldn’t stand that. I can’t hear him say that he knows I’ll be different. That he believes I’ll be able to control myself. After all, vampires aren’t the only ones who can lie.
To avoid that conversation, I say, “He could make it.”
Carter doesn’t ask who I mean. We both know that there’s a good chance Sebastian is still alive.
As pissed as I am, as completely furious, as tired as I am of his endless manipulation and lies, I am strangely torn. When I stabbed him through the heart, I wanted him dead. I wanted it with every cell of my body. With my human heart and my vampire soul. I wanted him dead. Completely destroyed.
And yet . . .
And yet, some part of me misses him already. He had been a vicious teacher. He’d been brutal and hard and had never once let up on me. I had hated him for it. And loved it, too. All my life I’d been coddled. I’d been taken care of. Sebastian was the only person, ever, who had treated me like I was capable of taking care of myself. Of just functioning. And he’d done it even before he’d changed me into a vampire. As much as I wanted him dead, as much as I wanted to hate him, how could I?
Maybe he was dead. Maybe I would never see him again. But maybe he wasn’t and maybe I would.
“If he is alive,” I said aloud, “he’s going to be pissed.” Oddly, I think he’d be most angry that we killed Roberto ourselves, rather than that I’d stabbed him. “He’s not the kind of man to let us walk away. He’ll come after us.”
Carter’s eyes didn’t flicker away from the road. His hand tightened slightly on the steering wheel. “Let him come. We’ll be ready.”
Praise for
“Equal parts
—Chloe Neill,
“A gritty, white-knuckle ride . . . fresh, fraught, and super scary.”
—Veronica Wolff, national bestselling author of
“An intense read . . . the kind of book you can’t put down.”
—C. C. Hunter,
