38. Nora

38

NORA

Harold dragged me down the hall and opened a door, throwing me into a room. He slammed the door as I hit the floor. I stayed there, unable to move.

I remembered everything.

I was the monster in all of this.

I was the twisted, fucked up one.

Shouts echoed down the hall as my entire world shattered around me. Smoke clashed with the metallic scent of blood. My clothing stuck to my skin, drenched in red.

The murders of the two professors flashed through my mind. Being dragged from the party out into the forest. The terror of being surrounded and helpless. Memories of my family came back in full too, things that must have been suppressed with our experiment. I remembered their deaths, each one of them.

I remembered being the one to kill my uncle.

The world blurred. All I could see were my bloodstained hands.

The Woulfe family was cursed, but that curse wasn’t supernatural. That curse was a thirst for violence. My own uncle had killed my mother and father, and I’d found the evidence of it. It had sent me over the edge.

He’d been the first person I ever killed.

All of the rage rolled through me, fresh again. I remembered the shadows along the wall of his parlour, the screams, the scent of blood flooding my nostrils.

Alec wasn’t the only one with a part of himself he didn’t remember.

I was like him.

I was a killer. I was a murderer.

There was something terribly wrong with me. A thirst for control, for knowledge even at the detriment of others. When St. Thorn had accepted me, they’d believed they brought a lamb into their midst.

But just like Alec, I was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

I thought about the night at the altar in the church. I’d asked him who was controlling him. You are.

I let out a broken laugh and sprawled out on the stone floor, staring at the ceiling. Everything blended together in my mind now, all of the connections being made.

The night he’d come across me in the woods as a monster, something happened between us. A connection that was forged in darkness and blood in a circle of fae stones on the night of a failed sacrifice.

A bond that ran deeper than I ever imagined possible. He was mine. He was my mate, the other half of my twisted soul. I knew that now more than anything.

The panic I’d felt that night had led us to experimenting with a powder he kept in a vial in a box in his desk. He claimed it would altar my mental state, and I believed that with hypnotism, I might be able to forget.

I’d wanted to forget. I’d wanted to let go of the deaths. I didn’t want to remember the pain and helplessness and fear. But I was my own worst enemy, and even with my mind changed, couldn’t let the truth go.

The memory came back fully now.

A clawfoot tub was full of dirt in the corner of the greenhouse, obscured by plants. The monster turned it on, running the dirt down the drain. He plugged it and stepped behind me, stripping my clothes off gently.

“Allow me to wash the blood from you,” he whispered. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes,” I said. Panic made me feel like I couldn't breathe. I couldn’t think. I just wanted to forget. I needed to forget. I’d sworn after the death of my uncle that I would never commit such a terrible act again, and then tonight had corrupted me again. “I killed them. If I remember, then… They’ll know. They’ll find out. And what about you?”

“I’ll never leave you,” he whispered softly. “I’ll protect you from all of this. But, the other half of me is twisted. He may hurt you.”

“I want to know him too.”

He let out a dark chuckle as he lifted me, setting me into the hot water. His vines were a comfort as they held me, washing the blood down the drain. “You should scream for help.”

“I won’t. I trust you.”

“Why would you trust me?”

“You haven’t killed me yet, have you?”

He’d smiled then, revealing a row of sharp teeth that could rip into me. But all I felt was curiosity. I was holding onto the shreds of my sanity, and from that I’d latched onto a being I never believed was real until now.

“You won’t remember a thing between the hypnotism and powder,” he whispered. “They won’t suspect you. ”

I breathed out, coming back to the small, cold room at the university.

I still had questions for him, but I wasn’t sure I’d ever know the truth now. The sacrifices had bound Alec to humanity. But how did the death of his mother fit into that?

Was he truly a god?

Whatever we’d done that night had not affected Alec’s monster side. It was only the human part that forgot the dinner party—and only because the split between him and the monster was already established.

The dinner party. It had been boring until those three professors had told me there was a monster in the woods. And then I’d followed them like a curious idiot, only to be attacked and restrained.

Their sacrifice to him.

Firelight and demons, except they were the demons. They were far more monstrous than Alec.

The door burst open and three men filled the room along with Harold. I recognized them as other professors or staff members I’d passed, never giving them a second glance.

They dragged me to my feet and sat me in a chair.

“Did you kill the Dean?” one of them asked.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“She’s killed them all,” Harold growled. “She’s a murderer.”

I smiled. I was.

“And John Andrews?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Who else?” Harold growled.

“I don’t even know all their names. The three professors from the beginning of the year.”

“Eric Long, William Noland, Frank Hankins,” Harold seethed. “All professors here. Members of The Hunt. ”

I looked up at him, holding his gaze. “Yes,” I said. “I stabbed two of them, one in the stomach, one in the thigh.”

“And Louis?” His voice choked around his friend’s name.

“Yes,” I lied.

“Where is Professor Briar?” one of the men asked.

“Dead,” I whispered.

And if he was smart, he would stay that way. All I could do was hope the monster would know to keep him away from all of this.

Because if one of us was going to go down, it had to be me.

I kept sifting through everything that happened as they talked around me. Alec must have taken me to the hotel I was staying at after I’d been drugged and hypnotised.

I’d known his secret all along. Maybe that’s why I was never scared of the monster.

I breathed out as I thought about how he’d covered up the murders for me. And the way he’d taken the knife from me the night John died…

Tears filled my eyes. I needed him right now. I wasn’t sure I’d see him again.

“Nora?”

I looked up. Jacob had come into the room. The others had left, although I could still hear their voices. He glanced behind them and then came closer.

“Did you kill Alec?” he whispered.

“Are you still my friend?” I asked softly.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“Find him and tell him to get out of here. Connect him to Bart. I think Bart is still good. He can have everything that was mine. I don’t think I’m getting out of this situation.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry, Nora. This all went wrong, didn’t it?”

I wasn’t sure. In some ways it had gone very right.

“Go,” I said firmly. “Make sure he stays dead.”

Jacob fled as Harold came back into the room. He crossed his arms.

“What?” I asked.

“Do you feel no remorse? For any of it?”

“No. Every person I killed deserved to die.”

“You’re a terrible person,” he whispered. “Are you the monster, Nora?”

I realised now that only the Dean knew about Alec. The others didn’t. I let out a soft laugh and relaxed in my chair. “Yes. I’m the monster.”

“Then you’ll understand why I must sacrifice you.”