The Unwanted

She could feel the warmth of his presence, hovering just beyond herself and all she had to do was reach for him. “No.” Yes…but she wasn’t going to lose herself in the relaxing comfort of his presence yet. She needed to feel everything the girl had felt for now. “I’m good. I just need to be… somewhere.”

Her instincts would take her to the right spot.

They started up the path away from the library, heading toward the Rotunda. “She’s going to medical school,” Destin said quietly, tuning back into the pain, the vision slicing into her.

“Yes. Her father died of cancer.”

Of course, he knew. He would have read all about the victims, as much as he could find anyway. She had to take that in bit by bit or it colored too much of what she was searching for.

The knowledge hurt even more. It was an old, familiar pain, all that bright and determined hope, so carelessly damaged.

“She hasn’t gone home.”

“No.” He glanced over at her. “Four others did. She hasn’t.”

Destin nodded. A wash of darkness crept across her field of vision, followed by a flicker of bright lights, the ghostly echo of laughter. “There…” She stumbled into him. He steadied her with his hand on her arm.

“Easy,” he murmured. “I got you.”

He passed a hand down her hair. “Let me in now, Destin.”

“No.” She shook her head, hating that she was tempted. So tempted. “Not yet.”

This was what she had to do. She’d rely on him later, but for now, this was up to her. This was what she’d been made for. She hated their suffering, their pain. This was what she needed. But as much as she hated their pain, there was a part of her that lived for this, because this was how she brought down monsters.

She was every bit as monstrous as they were, she thought…waiting for the next job, living for the next time she could go on a chase like this. It didn’t matter that she worked to hunt them down, make them stop.

They were predators who loved to cause fear…and she was a predator who loved to hunt them.

Monsters, the lot of them, and she was no better. Without them, she had no purpose.

Her feet stumbled on the path as the darkness edged in closer. If Caleb hadn’t been so close, she might have gone to the ground. “Easy,” he murmured, sliding an arm around her waist. Anybody watching them would think they were just walking arm and arm, but he was all but carrying her now, the weakness draining out of her as the connection deepened.

….laughing…why is he laughing…the confusion from the girl tore into her. Confusion, a fog of fear.

“Shit, Destin,” he muttered. “You should have said it was coming at you this hard. How bad is it going to be?”

“It’s not going to be bad,” she said, her voice thick as they settled onto a low-lying brick wall and stared back toward the library. “It’s just strong.”

From here, she could see where the girl had stumbled through the doors just after the library had opened in the morning. Three months ago, and the remnants of what had been done to her still lingered.

All those bits and pieces worked together into a fabric, forming a more cohesive image, her breath coming in harsh, heavy pants as image after image slammed into her.

His face…she could almost see his face.

Through her lashes, she stared at the walkway, already seeing vague echoes of that night superimposing itself over what was taking place now.

“Not bad?” Caleb echoed.

She dragged her attention back to the present and focused on Caleb, staring at him through her lashes. His dark brown eyes were locked on her face, intense, staring at her like he was trying to see clear through to her soul. Once upon a time, she’d thought maybe he could. But those days were done.

“You’re white as a ghost and stumbling. You can’t fight it off and you’re trying to tell me it’s not bad?” he said.

“It’s not.” She swallowed and dashed the back of her hand over her mouth. “It’s strong. Felt the echoes off and on all day. I can push it off if I have to, but it’s right there and I think I need to see what it’s trying to show me now.”

She felt his surprise. She’d never been able to fight them back before. But then again, she’d never been that interested in trying. Control had become vital for her, though.

“Talk to me,” she said as the darkness tugged on her harder and harder. “Tell me something about her, about the girl.” He’d know. He would have gone through every last detail he could get his hands on.

Taut seconds stretched out between them and slowly, he started to speak. “She was in here until it closed. It’s one of the smaller libraries—they’ve got four on the campus, but from what I can tell, they all stay pretty busy. According to the police report, she remembers leaving…”

As he talked, she closed her eyes and let her mind drift with his voice until she placed herself there. And then she was there. Back with the girl…back within the girl.

It came on hard, fast.

Too cold…shouldn’t have stayed so late. Why didn’t I bring a jacket—oh, hey, look who is here—features…Destin could barely make them out, but she made a mental catalog of them and something about them was familiar. Look at him closer, let me see him…but she knew it was useless. All of this had already happened and she couldn’t change the events. She’d have to take her clues from what was already there to find.

Still, if she’d seen him before, when she saw him again, she’d know.

Something is off…in the part of her mind where Destin was still herself, she realized that, knew it. She should be able to get her mind to settle better, lock in better on the assailant. But she couldn’t get a better lock and she couldn’t alter or shift things that had already happened.

He’s so fucking hot. Why can’t he be a student…Destin seized on that thought. That…now that was useful.

So nice, so funny…but my dad would kill me…oh, screw it. Why do I always have to be the good girl…I can have a fucking beer if I want, right? He’s not going to tell on me, right? This was the point where Destin would have mentally shied away, if she knew what was good for her, because she already knew what was coming.

Gross. This is nasty. Why do people drink… That was the last clear thought.

After that, everything was clouded and muzzy. She would have been drugged, Destin suspected. As quick as her thoughts went from clear and bright to dark and clouded, there was no way a beer had hit her that hard.

So cold…oh, he has nice hands. I like that. Wait—

Have to stop. Fear tried to push in. Destin felt that flicker of fear ignite her rage, but she battled it down. No more blind rages. Not for her. She didn’t give in to them, didn’t feel them, and didn’t feed on them.

Vague memories of a calming, deep voice, teasing and soft. That quick, light burn of lust, dazed heat. Okay…maybe some more beer instead. Yeah…no. Wait. Have to stop…scholarship.

Cold. So cold—

Oh. That’s nice…the thoughts got blurrier then. The confusion and chaos grew stronger.

Wait—who is that? A voice. The girl didn’t see anybody, but that voice, she knew that voice. A smell, one that triggered instant panic assaulted her, and through the bond of memories, Destin as well.

No, no, no, nononono…what are you doing here?

Clear thought burst through the confusion. Panic.

What is going on—

And then the pain started.