Chapter Five

Walking around outside helped clear my mind.

Doing it beside Harrison reminded me of all the shit I'd rather not think about, though.

He had spoken little after my shower. In fact, by the time we left the house, he reminded me far more of the man I'd gotten used to before. He seemed closed off, his words careful and flat.

Was that because he had to focus more when out and around others? Was the glimpse I'd gotten of him at the house the real him? The one beneath the layers of control and shields and power?

Ever since leaving, he'd hardly looked my way. It felt as though he had little idea I even existed beside him. Despite walking along together, he didn't seem to pay any attention to me.

My toes caught on the sidewalk—not all that uncommon, really—and I braced myself to hit the ground as usual. Instead, strong arms caught me.

I twisted to find Harrison with his arm around me.

So much for thinking he wasn't paying attention to me…

He released me as quickly as he'd saved me, though. "You need to pick your feet up more when you walk."

"That's not the problem."

"Then what is it? Will you blame the sidewalk?"

"Not the sidewalk—my crow."

"You blame a bird?"

And wow, was that a mocking question.

"Not just any bird. You saw—I am evidently the Clan of Chaos. Things around me just go wrong. That means things break around me and my feet will almost always find any little imperfection in a sidewalk."

"Is that why you fell last night?"

"No—that one was all tequila."

He shook his head before continuing on, not waiting as though he knew I'd catch up either way.

Which I did, despite my short little legs.

"So where are we going?" I asked when the boredom got to me. We'd driven to an area off the strip, and Harrison had parked the car in a large, public lot. It was strange to see him around so many humans.

Usually, I saw him either in terms of the council or alone. Seeing him in the midst of the busy sidewalks made him stand out.

He really was handsome…

Fuck, the man could have been a model. His pale skin and perfectly formed jaw would be totally fitting on the cover of a magazine. I imagined him talking about his workout regimen and how he drinks gross tea and meditates when at home. The bright sun made his hair appear an even lighter shade of blond, and the curls made it seem wild.

"We are going to meet with a group of Minds."

"Why?"

"I have to check in. It is part of my duties, and given our search for your attacker, it makes sense to touch base with a few of my people."

"Great. Spending time with a bunch of people who can crawl around in my head is exactly what I was hoping to do today. I thought the whole point of being with you was to prevent that."

"You worry too much. You will be under my protection, so nothing will happen."

As much as I wanted to argue—the memories of the times that fucker had riffled through my brain like a pervert in a panties' drawer still far too fresh—I couldn't.

Doing nothing wasn't going to help, after all, and showing fear was so not my style.

So I tucked my hands into the pockets of the dress I had on, the one I'd borrowed from the selection Harrison had in the guest closet. It was loose and long, easy to move in, and I'd thrown on a jean jacket from my place when we'd stopped to pack some of my stuff.

The meeting place, as it turned out, was the upper floor of a standalone building. The bottom floor was a liquor store—I filed that away for later—and upstairs was a DUI lawyer on one side and a clock repair place on the other.

We went into the clock repair place, which I figured I probably had far less of a need for compared to a lawyer.

"Harrison," the employee behind the counter said, rising from his seat in a rush. "I didn't know you'd come today."

Harrison folded his hands behind him, not reacting, as though the panic on the other man's face wasn't there. "I saw no reason to announce my visit. Is the meeting happening as scheduled?"

"Yes, of course."

"How many?"

"Six. Just the regulars." He turned his gaze to me, a question there. I had a feeling if it had been anyone else, he'd have asked about me. His fear of Harrison must have kept him quiet.

I waved. "Hi. I'm Grey."

His eyes opened wider, answering whether or not he'd heard of me. I'd started getting this reaction more and more as news of the new council seat became more widespread. "O-oh. Okay, well, welcome."

It would probably be damn rude to laugh when he was so clearly terrified, but I couldn't help it. Who the fuck was ever afraid of me? If only I could leverage this reaction for my own gain. I'd probably have a lot fewer problems if people were that afraid of me.

Harrison made a soft noise though his expression didn't change at all. In fact, if I hadn't heard it myself—the soft, mocking snort—I wouldn't have believed he'd done it all.

Wasn't that just like him, though?

The man gestured toward a door behind him. "Well, go on in."

Harrison didn't acknowledge the offer, as though he had every right to go wherever the fuck he pleased. That arrogance was annoying, but somehow at odds with the Harrison who had spoken to me last night and this morning.

Still, I followed him as he went into the back. At first, I found what I expected—a room full of clock parts and shit I didn't quite understand. However, to the left sat another unassuming door. Harrison didn't hesitate before turning the handle and walking in.

The room was brightly lit and open—nothing like the cluttered and dusty storage room or the front of the shop. Instead, this reminded me of the sort of place someone might hold a self-help meeting. Fuck, there was even a table at the back with coffee and pastries.

I immediately headed that direction. I'd skipped breakfast and just the sight of something sugary made my stomach rumble. It was the perfect thing to soak up the rest of the nonsense in my stomach after drinking so much last night.

I had a muffin in my mouth before I realized we weren't alone, turning mid-bite to find six people in the room staring at me like I was some weird aberration.

That seemed rude, since I felt like Harrison would stick out far more than I did.

So I waved before swallowing the poorly chewed bite. "Tasty."

Harrison sighed, then turned toward the group, who had seemed to just notice him as well.

"Harrison," a woman said, her voice only slightly less terrified than the man up front had been.

All the people sat on folding chairs placed in a circle, all different ages and with no single feature the same among them.

Men, women, young and old, some dressed in nice clothing and others looking as though they hadn't slept under a roof in weeks. In short? I wouldn't have guessed these six would have anything in common.

However, given Harrison's presence and his previous statements, I had to guess they were all Minds.

Which were so not my favorite people currently.

Harrison didn't sit, but standing there made me feel entirely on display. Instead, I inched forward and took an empty seat, nibbling on the muffin, trying to blend into the background. At least with them noticing him, I'd become less interesting.

"Why did you come?" the woman asked.

"Do I need a reason?" Harrison responded.

She jerked her head back and forth, as if trying to immediately backpedal. "Of course not. You just rarely come to these. I was worried you might have come today because there was a problem."

Harrison shifted his gaze, taking in each of the people seated in the room, a heaviness in his look that implied there were other facts I wasn't privy to. It felt more like an interrogation than a simple meet and greet.

And when I had no idea what else to do, I lifted the muffin to my mouth and took another noisy bite.

The sound made Harrison look my way and narrow his eyes.

"Sorry," I said around the mouthful of sweet, tasty goodness.

Still, the action broke the tension and it almost seemed as if everyone took a deep breath.

"I am sure you have heard about the recent attacks by Minds," Harrison said.

The woman nodded, fidgeting in her seat—not the best sign of innocence. Then again, I was pretty sure almost every person would shift like that under Harrison's harsh gaze. "I've heard about them, but I can assure you, no one here is involved."

"Are you certain?" Harrison took a few steps closer, stopping just beside the chair I sat in. "Everyone in this room is a Cloud addict, after all."

Cloud?

The word meant nothing to me beyond the vague place where people sent files from their phones.

However, I had a feeling me speaking up would only hinder the whole conversation. Better to stay quiet and piece it all together on my own—at least until I got a bit more information.

Just the mention of this cloud stuff had everyone avoiding Harrison's gaze, just like when a personal trainer talked about desserts. Still, the woman spoke up, her voice shaky. "That's why we're here, why we meet every week no matter what. If we were using, would we be here?"

Harrison nodded. "A fair point. However, backslides happen. People believe they can have just one more taste, then stop yet again. How many have joined such groups as these only to disappear one day? Now, I am not here to accuse those here today—I wish to know if there are any who have recently stopped coming."

The woman sighed, her shoulders dropping. "There are always those who come once and never again."

"The person I'm looking for would have stopped coming two months ago."

I twisted to look up at Harrison. Two months ago implied he'd been aware of the person that long, which he hadn't said a word to me about. It said he'd tracked this person since before my whole mess with the vampires.

Which said he'd left a lot more victims than I realized.

The woman shook her head. "No one stands out, but I'll give you the records I have." She hesitated, then asked, her voice softer. "I heard about a few deaths. Do you think it's the same person?"

I expected Harrison not to answer. In my experience, he was fantastic at not giving the information requested when he didn't want to. However, he did the unexpected and nodded. "I believe the same addict has been targeting people for the past two months. Given the attacks occurred before an influx of Cloud, I believe the person manufacturing it is the same who is using it. Thus far, twelve have died and one victim survived, unharmed. All evidence suggests they had the same perpetrator."

"A survivor?" The woman leaned forward, her attention rapt. "I've never heard of someone surviving intact. Were they a Spirit?"

"Yes, they were."

"What clan?"

"Chaos."

The woman frowned, then darted her gaze toward me.

"Is this where I introduce myself?" I asked.

Harrison set his hand on my shoulder, the weight surprisingly comforting. "This is Grey, the head of the Chaos Clan. The perpetrator attacked her twice ."

The woman got to her feet, her gaze sharp and surprisingly terrifying for such a small woman. "She survived two attacks? How is that possible? Cloud victims don't recover."

"She is unique. I believe that is why the attacker has targeted her multiple times. The structure of her brain must be different enough to entice the suspect, because he appears to have fixated on her."

The woman stepped closer, her bright blue eyes locked on me in a way that made me want to back away. Something about that look rooted me in place, though. A strange sensation ran through me, like someone stroking across my mind with feather-light touches.

"I wonder what that feels like," the woman whispered, her tone sounding as though she spoke only to herself. "I wonder what she tastes like."

And fuck did I dislike that familiar phrasing. I got to my feet that time, knocking the chair backward, especially as the light touches turned to pressure. It wasn't the same pain I'd experienced before, not the stabbing through my temples. That had felt like a sledgehammer, whereas this was a flick.

Though, given the woman's gaze, I doubted she held back on purpose. It must have shown a difference in power—or maybe this Cloud thing?

I found myself jerked backward, the action finally breaking the contact. Harrison pulled me closer to his side, and being so near felt oddly like he'd taken me within his protection. Suddenly, the woman could no longer reach me.

"Enough," he snapped, his voice rougher and lower than usual.

The woman blinked quickly, as though waking up, and the moment she came to her senses, she gasped and covered her mouth. "I didn't mean to," she rushed out. "I just wondered what someone would see in her to do that and before I knew it…" Her voice trailed off, her body trembling. She didn't look a bit like the terrifying thing that had closed in on me, once again appearing frail and small.

"You just attempted to attack someone with your powers, someone I had afforded my protection to. You thus forfeit your life."

"Her life?" I pulled away from Harrison, placing myself between the two, my back to the woman. Right now, she seemed the lesser danger. "Whoa, whoa now. Let's not get quite so murdery right off the bat, huh?"

"She attacked you. Had I not been here, there is no telling what might have occurred. I cannot let that go unpunished."

"Pretty sure it's my life and what little is left of my brain we're talking about, right? That means it's at least a little my business. You can't kill someone over giving me a very slight headache."

"She knew the risks. If I allow this to go without retribution, such behavior will continue."

One glance up at Harrison's face made me want to back away. Sure, Harrison was a stick in the mud, but I hadn't viewed him as all that dangerous before.

I should have. He headed his clan for a reason, and that reason was his power.

This was the first time I really thought he might actually use said power, though. And for this reason?

Insane.

"She didn't hurt me. You really think someone should die because they had a split second of thinking about something that never happened?"

He pressed his lips together. A tic in his cheek said that was exactly what he thought but voicing that would make him look like a monster. Ah, good old social conditioning. People didn't like to look heartless. "Very well," he muttered, his words sullen. "I'll let you decide, since you were the victim. However, if anything occurs afterward, it will be your fault."

"Enough stuff is my fault that I probably wouldn't even notice." I let out a breath when Harrison folded his arms, a sign that he wasn't going to go all brimstone and vengeance.

It let me turn around to face the woman, who hadn't moved an inch. She reminded me of a kid whose parents fought. The last thing she wanted was to draw that sort of attention to her. "Thank you," she whispered. "I didn't mean to…"

Harrison shook his head. "You made this choice—you deal with it." He left those words for me before walking out, though I had a feeling he wouldn't go farther than the storage room.

It left me alone with the others, but the threat of Harrison remaining so close would keep me safe. Probably.

The best I could hope for was probably.

"I really am sorry," she said again. "And thank you for stopping him."

I shrugged before grabbing another muffin—a blueberry this time—and sat down again. "No harm, no foul in my book. I've gotten an actual taste of what one of you can do. I can let anything short of that slide."

The woman sat as well. "My name is Reba."

"What is this Cloud shit he was talking about?"

She furrowed her brows as though surprised I wouldn't know, but didn't call me out on that ignorance. "It's a drug that enhances the abilities of Mind Spirits. However, it also creates a euphoric high and removes their abilities to control themselves. Minds on that drug, especially at high doses, often kill others."

"Why would anyone make something like that?" I went with that question because it felt more polite than asking why any idiot would take it, sitting in the room of addicts.

"Being a Mind is difficult in a way the other clans don't deal with. We are not human, but we have to live human lives. We don't age slower, we aren't immortal, we are as likely to fall sick or injured as any human. Additionally, our powers can't be turned off or ignored."

"How does increasing a person's power help that?"

"Because for that bit of time, we get to revel in what we are. It's like…bloodlust for a vampire. It strips away all the questions, all the fears, everything. Instead of feeling all those negative things myself, I get to taste them from someone else." As she spoke, her eyes glazed over.

I'd seen that look before, from alcoholics who knew how terrible liquor was for them, but still missed their fond memories of it. At least this time, she didn't seem likely to attack me over it.

"So if no one has been here that you think could have done it, you can't offer anything. Thanks anyway, sorry for interrupting your meeting." I rose, feeling as though we'd made little progress.

"Wait," a boy who couldn't have been over sixteen said. His voice was soft, as though he had to fight with himself to force the words from his throat. He trembled, and my chest ached as I looked at him.

A kid that young shouldn't be here, shouldn't have that terrified look on his face. He should be chasing girls and going to school and worried about little beyond a party that weekend. How the fuck was he here, in a meeting for addicts?

I said nothing, pausing to give him the time and space to gather his courage and speak.

Finally, he lifted his gaze to mine. "There's more Cloud coming through lately, and it's stronger than before."

"How do you know that?" Reba asked.

The boy flinched, rubbing his hands together as though to dispel his nerves. "People talk. I know more and more Minds who have tried it out lately." He shook his head, then rushed out, "But not me. I'm done with it, I swear. I just hear about it."

Reba offered a smile more reassuring than I thought she could make. It seemed she wasn't quite as cold as she'd seemed before. Then again, I had a feeling Harrison could bring that negative side out of people pretty easily. "I know that. Just tell us what you know."

The boy nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. "A year ago, no one really knew about Cloud. It was just whispered about in bad areas. Now, though? I don't think I know almost any Minds who haven't had at least a tiny taste. Cloud is really hard to make. Not many people can do it—it's almost an art. Lately, the stuff that has been coming out all has a sparrow on it."

"You're telling me people sign the drugs they make now?" The idea seemed like something out of a shitty crime show. "Isn't that stupid?"

"People want to make money," the kid said. "They want credit for what they do. The issue with Cloud has moved around a lot, it's usually only a problem at one place at a time. I think…" He paused, as though he wasn't sure how to say it, before taking a deep breath and just putting it out there. "I think there's only one main maker of cloud. The other stuff, it's like replicated—and not well—but the good stuff only shows up one place."

"So you're telling me the main distributor of Cloud is here now?"

"That's my guess."

"So if I can find that main distributor and stop them, then the person after me won't be able to get anymore Cloud and will just have whatever he's already bought?"

"Cloud doesn't last more than a few days. It decays fast. So if you can stop the person making it, after a few days, you'll be safe," the kid acknowledged.

Finally, some good news, a plan, a possible way forward.

Who said kids were useless these days? As it turned out, they knew where the drugs were!

* * * *

My head ached, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. It wasn't a hangover, not anymore.

Maybe I had a cold coming on? I tended to be hardier than humans, but I still could catch the nasty bugs when they went around.

"You are frowning," Harrison said. "Are you bored here? I know people can be uncomfortable being alone so much."

"No. I don't really mind that part, especially with how crazy my life was for a while. It's kind of nice, honestly."

"So why are you frowning?"

"I'm not feeling great," I admitted. "I was thinking I should go over to Galen's."

"Why?"

"He's a good mother hen type. I bet he'd make me soup and fuss over me."

Harrison dropped his gaze, as though deep in thought. "You don't think I could take care of you?"

"You don't strike me as the nursing type." I shrugged as I said it, not expecting him to take it too hard. We all had to accept the things we were good at and the things we weren't. Harrison excelled at that silent glare, and was evidently extremely powerful, but a caring, mothering type?

Nope—not even a little.

Maybe that was why it surprised me to see him frowning. I'd said far worse to him before and he hadn't so much as blinked, but somehow this bullshit marked the end of his world?

I might have cared at another time, but I really didn't feel well. His fragile ego was not my problem, especially right now.

"I'm going to go lie down," I said as I got up and off the couch.

"You should eat dinner first."

I shook my head. "Food sounds like a no-go right now. A little sleep and I think I'll feel better." I didn't wait for an answer before heading for my room.

I slept in fitful spurts. An hour here, thirty minutes there, but each time I woke, I felt the same. My head ached, my skin felt warm to the touch and, in general, the last thing I wanted was to wake up and do anything.

However, when the sun had set, a knock on the door told me my time of hiding away had ended.

I didn't answer, but Harrison still walked in as though he owned the place.

Which, considering this was his house, I guess he sort of did.

Still, annoying.

I didn't bother even rolling over, instead staying cocooned in the blankets of my bed. At least, I did until a heavenly scent hit my nose.

The world could be a frozen tundra of unhappiness, and I'd still venture out in search of the source of a scent like that.

When I rolled and sat up, I found Harrison there, a bowl in his hands.

"You need to eat," he said.

"Did you order that?"

He furrowed his brows, his expression peeved. "Does it matter? When a person is sick, they should eat well. As a Mind, I am more susceptible than most Spirits to things like illness, so I know how to take care of it."

I narrowed my eyes, not trusting him at all. It felt like a tiger bringing food to their prey—probably just a ploy to fatten me up.

However, one glance at the soup made it clear I was easily bought. The surface was translucent, with floating white ribbons of egg in it. "Is that egg flower soup?"

He handed the bowl to me, using one finger to hold the spoon in place. "It is. This soup is warm and gentle on the stomach. You need energy to beat such illnesses, and you need to eat to get that."

The first taste told me I should apologize for what I'd said the night before. Even if he had ordered it, what did that matter? And while my smart-ass mouth wanted to make fun of him for this, I wouldn't risk not getting more of this heavenly goodness.

I ate more quickly than I probably should have, but I couldn't stop or slow myself. The tiny bites of corn inside, the subtle chicken flavor, it all blended perfectly and warmed me up from the inside out.

"You look better," he said as he took a seat on the bed beside me. "The food and sleep must have helped."

I nodded, speaking despite my mouth full and my cheeks puffed out like a hamster. "I'm still not a hundred, but I don't feel like death anymore. Why? Do we have plans?"

"Not today, no, but tomorrow we do."

"And what plans are those?"

"Do you fancy going back to school?"

I thought back to my olden days, when I'd gone to school, and shuddered. "No fucking thanks."

"Not a fan of those days?"

"You've seen the trouble I get into now—do you really think I did well in a highly regimented environment like a school?"

"I thought you didn't become a Spirit until later?"

I took another bite of the soup, hating that my spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl since that meant it was almost gone. "I've always been difficult. I think that's why that asshole picked me. He did it because I already had that sort of personality. It means I got worse, sure, but I'm not all that different." I considered the odd things I stole, the desire to wreck everything I saw, and sighed.

Maybe I am a bit different…

I lifted the bowl to my lips to drink the last of it, savoring the warmth and complex flavors. When I finished, Harrison took it from me. He probably knew if he didn't, I'd lick the bowl clean.

Which I absolutely had planned.

"How were you changed?" He set the bowl down on the dresser before turning back toward me. "I know the man who showed up changed you, and that Galen later saved you from a werewolf, but I don't know exactly what happened."

I thought back to the ugliness of those days, the confusion, the uncertainty. Changing, becoming something entirely different, it was a hard thing to accept or know how to handle.

There weren't any, ‘ So Now You're a Crow!' books to help me along the way.

I didn't love having to go back, to remember that period in my life. Sure, most of my life didn't seem all that wonderful, but at least I'd gotten my feet under me now.

I considered that I worked as a delivery girl and had just been framed for murder and thought…maybe not as in control of my life as I liked to pretend.

Still, he had brought me food and I did feel slightly better because of the sleep, so what was a story in exchange?

"I was lost one night and wandering through the desert."

"Lost?" He cocked up one of his blond eyebrows in a knowing expression.

" Fine. I was slightly drunk as well. I'd planned on walking to the store and, well, the desert is surprisingly easy to get lost in. I ended up in an area I didn't recognize, and spotted three guys following someone else. It was pretty obvious they weren't planning on just selling him some baked goods or anything. Looking back, I should have minded my own business. I should have turned right around and gone the other way."

"Why didn't you?"

"That's the question, isn't it? Why didn't I leave him to his own problems. Fuck knows, I had enough of my own." I sighed, sitting back. "I've never been good at that, though. I've never been able to just leave things well enough alone. I think it's because I know how it feels to be alone, to have no one there supporting you. It's hard, and it sucks, and I don't want other people to have to deal with that."

I knew that was an understatement. A huge number of my problems in my life had occurred because I couldn't keep my nose to myself. I walked right into shit I had no business in because I didn't like what was going on.

I went on, trying to keep my tone light despite my feelings about that night. "The man didn't seem to care about the three punks. In fact, it seemed like they amused him, like they were the same type. However, when one got behind him, they lifted this stick to hit him in the back of the head. That sort of cowardly shit is something I hate, so I rushed in and shoved the guy out of the way. I got hit in the temple." I touched the mark that still remained, the scar on my left side that went to my eyebrow. It didn't hurt anymore, but something about it forced me to remember everything.

Harrison caught my chin, twisting my head while taking my wrist in his other hand. He pulled my fingers away, staring at the tiny scar there.

It was funny, because it wasn't like I didn't have other scars. I'd lived a pretty hectic life, and every scar was from a damn good story. Not that the stories were all fond memories, but in my experience, some of the worst times in my life made for the best stories.

At least, after the wounds healed.

The same did not hold true for that tiny mark, though.

Harrison narrowed his eyes as he stared at the faded scar. "Did it require stitches?"

"It probably would have, but not that night."

"Because of what that man did?" Harrison released my chin and wrist, allowing me to nod.

"I fell down after I got smacked, and those three started mocking me. I expected the man to run off."

"Even after you helped him?"

"In my experience, people don't stay by your side, at least not once shit gets real. Most times they take off then, because people care about themselves the most." I shrugged, hating how fucking cynical I sounded. "Not that I blame them. I mean, that's how we all are, right?"

"Not you. You helped him when you had no good reason to."

"And look where it got me?" I laughed, the sound bitter even to my own ears. "Anyway, so when the asshole who hit me the first time went to swing again, I flinched. Except, nothing landed. I opened my eyes to find the man there, the end of the stick in his hand like he'd caught it. Even as the punk tried to pull, he couldn't get it free. That should have probably been my hint that something was different, but fuck, I'd just gotten smacked hard. I wasn't thinking straight."

The night came back to me so clearly that I could almost feel the dribble of blood down my face, the throbbing in my temples, all of it. I recalled how the man had locked eyes with the one who had swung on me, and asked, "Should I kill him?"

It hadn't made sense at the time, but when he'd turned his head toward me, I'd realized he'd asked it of me. "Do you want me to kill him?"

I had shaken my head, unwilling to have someone's death on my hands. He'd snorted, then shoved his hand out, sending the other man flying.

I left that part out of the story, since it felt like a strange moment between the man and me. "He ran the three off, then crouched in front of me. He'd said I was different, that I'd caused chaos in his life, that not enough people do the unexpected."

"And then he asked if you wanted to change?"

"Yeah, he isn't the sort of man to ask anyone anything. He set a hand on my forehead and the world went dark around me. I woke up later in that same spot, the wound at my temple having healed, the man gone."

"He didn't stay and tell you anything?"

"Not a single thing. I didn't have a clue what he'd done until about a week later." I paused, then sighed when I realized that probably made little sense to him. "See, because of what I am, I crave mischief. I end up tense, like this noise that keeps getting louder and louder in my head until I can't ignore it if I don't do something. Sometimes it's just adding googly eyes to random stuff, or pocketing some things that don't technically belong to me, and if I ignore all that, then the stakes keep getting higher. I didn't realize that at the time, though, so I ended up seeing someone—a man who didn't look all that safe—and I taunted him. I didn't know why I did it, but something inside me said I should. Well, long story short, that man wasn't a man but a werewolf—a stray, at that. Turned out he was more than halfway to crazy all on his own, and I guess my other side knew that provoking him would cause a little chaos. It did, of course."

"And that was when Galen saved you?"

"Yep. The wolf chased me and I ran into an old building. Galen had been trailing him already—one of my few lucky breaks. When I was trying to escape him, I turned into a bird. It was like this sense of fire licking over my skin, and between one second and the next, I was a crow. It let me crawl into a vent, and that was where Galen found me. He assumed I was a Werecrow, but, well, you know what happened when he tried to have me sorted at the council meeting." I lifted my shoulders in a quick shrug, as if to signal the end of the conversation. There wasn't really anything else to say about it, was there? He'd heard the whole stupid, ridiculous story.

When he said nothing in return, when the silence got too heavy, I sighed and tried to speak again with as light a tone as possible. "But that unpleasant walk down memory lane helped. I don't feel nearly as bad." I lifted my gaze from my hands to Harrison, finding his eyes locked on mine.

Did he sense how uncomfortable that made me? He must have, because he tore his gaze away and looked off to the side. "I'm glad you feel better. Our work would be far more difficult if you were ill."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time I made a job more difficult."

He shook his head, the action telling me he didn't appreciate my attempts to keep us from talking about anything too real. He rose, then gathered the empty bowl. "You should rest a little longer, then you can shower. We will leave at first light."

"See, this is the nice thing about hanging out with non-vampires. With vampires, it's always at dusk. I swear, I lost any tan I ever had spending time there."

Harrison didn't acknowledge me that time, instead leaving me alone in the room. At first I didn't appreciate it, the quiet feeling too loud, as though the space closed in on me.

Except… The smile fell from my lips. Without anyone else there forcing me to keep it plastered on, without someone I needed to hide from, the memory of that night, of how many things were stolen from me then, it all washed over me and I had no reason to keep it at bay.

So for the first time in so long, I couldn't even remember, I didn't smile. I didn't laugh, didn't joke, didn't minimize the rough emotions that poured through me. I felt them, every last confusing, horrifying one.

The things I'd lost, the life I couldn't have anymore, the troubles and dangers I faced now, it all rushed through me until I trembled.

Because fuck, there was a good reason I'd run from them all. Mainly? Because they sucked, and right now I remembered exactly why.