“I promise you, Cheryl, I’m far from interested,” I replied with a frown.
She didn’t look convinced. “We’ve bonded, Motley. I don’t think he really supports his father in all of this. He doesn’t like how Spector is treating all of us, you know. I think his dad is pressuring him somehow.”
This bit of information was intriguing. I briefly mulled over the moments leading up to the ritual. Stiles didn’t want either of us to attend the banquet. He was uncharacteristically kind to me that night—or at least his version of kind..
I wasn’t completely sold on the idea that Stiles was innocent in all of this, but I wanted to learn more. I decided right then it was time to let Cheryl in on the Trant’s dirtiest secret.
“Cheryl, can I tell you something in confidence?” I asked, and her eyes lit up with glee.
“Ooh, a secret? I love secrets. When Marlene Vatterby told me she got pregnant with a shifter hybrid while engaged to her vamp fiancé, I didn’t tell a single soul,” she replied excitedly while practically jumping in her seat.
I scrubbed my hand down my face. “No, this is different. You really can’t tell anyone, Cheryl. Okay? I’m serious.”
She nodded, her grin growing broader. I was probably going to regret this, but we both leaned in closer over the table so I could whisper.
“Stiles is my half-brother. His father slept around on his wife and had me. They gave me up a few days after I was born,” I rushed out, then watched in apprehension as Cheryl’s green eyes widened in part shock, part horror.
“You have a crush on your half-brother?” she hissed. “That’s fucked up, Motley!” She gagged a bit and shook her head in disgust.
Gods give me patience. This woman was going to be the death of me.
“I do not have a crush on my brother, you psycho!” I said a little too loudly. The tables around us turned to stare, and my spider shot a web out, warning them to mind their own damn business.
“Look,” I began while Cheryl processed my words. “Mr. Trant is my father. I want to know what he’s up to and figure out Stiles’s role in all of this. We can work together, okay? Figure out what he has over Stiles. If my brother is being forced to help Spector, I want to know. And if he’s not?” I paused for dramatic effect, giving Cheryl a sympathetic frown in the process. “It’s probably better we both know. You think you can do that?”
Cheryl stared back at me, eyeing me up and down with newfound understanding. I didn’t like the pity in her stare.
“So you’ve been a Trant all this time?” she asked. “I mean, you’re a scholarship student. You were a social pariah; why didn’t you say anything?”
Thoughts of Aunt Marie coursed through me, and tears filled my eyes. Maybe if people knew, I would have had more opportunities in life. But then again, we depended on the Trant’s monthly allowance to keep us going. My aunt couldn’t work, and neither could I until I graduated, so we needed that income. Besides, I didn’t want to gain anything off the back of my absentee father’s name. He would’ve denied the claim anyway, and then I would’ve been viewed as a liar as well as a pariah.
“It was a stipulation of my monthly living stipend that they sent to my aunt. She can’t work… So anyway, I really didn’t have a choice,” I said in a low voice, feeling dejected.
Cheryl puffed out her chest before reaching across the table to squeeze my hand, mimicking my earlier gesture. “I’ll see what I can find out, okay? We’re going to get out of this,” she promised.
I was shocked by the vehemence in her voice and the determination in her eyes. Cheryl didn’t make fun of me for being an unwanted bastard, nor did she judge me for keeping this secret for money. She accepted me fully and offered her help. Maybe I’d misjudged her all these years.
Who was this girl?
“Besides, I once got Jolene Mathington to admit she was stealing history tests from Professor Lox. I even convinced her to share them with me in exchange for backstage passes to an Alpha Pack concert. That chick is a frigid bitch, and she sang like a canary! I think I can handle the Trants.”
Ah, there she was.
Chapter 12
“Your feeding will be different today, Motley,” Lowell, the observing scientist, said while checking his tablet.
I tried to keep my roaring famishment under control as I followed behind him, but after two more days had passed, Spector noticed that it was time to feed again.
I was dreading it. I didn’t want to be forced to feed on humans that I would inevitably kill. I didn’t want to fuck a stranger and watch the light fade from his eyes.
But my spider was hungry. She needed to feed, and that drive dragged my feet down the hallway, keeping my eyes trained on the floor and my teeth clenched in apprehension.
When we got to my usual room where they brought me humans to drain, I was surprised to find that the room was filled with people. Not just the scientists who sat behind the observation glass, or the guards by the door, but the other hybrids too.
What the fuck?
My eyes scanned the crowded room, and I froze when I saw Tomb standing off to the side. He looked okay on the surface, brimming with life and light. But there was a sense of pain in his expression that made my heart clench.
When our eyes met, his chest puffed out, and he took a step toward me, only to be stopped when the guard behind him pulled him back. My eyes watered. I wanted to run to him and burrow my head
