Chapter 18
chapter
eighteen
Alexander flipped his jawbone knife open and closed as he watched Tobias sleep.
What do you want?
It was an annoying question. Especially the amount Tobias asked it. Like he was trying to uncover a deep, dark secret underneath the motivations Alexander kept insisting on. Which was ridiculous.
It wasn’t even a relevant question, Alexander considered as he flipped the knife around his finger. Alexander was a hunter. He belonged with his family. It didn’t matter what he wanted. Alexander always knew what his life would look like. He just needed to get it back on track.
But Tobias kept asking. And the more Alexander stopped to think about the life he was so determined to go back to, there were some aspects of day-to-day life he didn’t miss.
Like their rigid schedules. He liked structure, of course. But it had been surprisingly refreshing setting his own schedule since he left home. And when he had to deviate from it, he didn’t have to worry about disapproving stares.
Another thing he didn’t miss: the constant need to prove himself.
Obviously, he still honored that, hence his continued hunting and overachieving at jobs where his coworkers seemed allergic to hard work.
But there were times where he would look around his meticulously clean apartment and realize there was nobody watching.
Nobody to point out a spot he’d missed on the kitchen tiles or that his collar was out of place.
It was…freeing. If you liked that sort of thing.
Alexander parted his dyed hair with the hilt of his jawbone knife.
The texture of his hair was different in a way he disliked, but he enjoyed the color.
At least, after he got over the shock of seeing it in the mirror.
On the way to North Carolina, every glimpse made him think of what his family would say.
But as he lay here with Tobias, examining the strands, he couldn’t help but feel that same thrill he’d felt back in that superstore bathroom.
His family didn’t encourage any sense of style outside their own clean, simple kind. But when Alexander toyed with his new black hair, he got the feeling that he would like to experiment. Nothing obscene, just something more casual than his usual fare.
Like a hoodie, he thought, watching Tobias’s bare chest rise and fall.
He imagined Tobias picking one up off his bedroom floor and throwing it at him.
Imagined Tobias’s smile turning soft and possessive, the way it got when he cleaned Alexander up after they had sex.
Imagined Tobias stalking over, running his hand through Alexander’s new hair and saying, You look so fucking good like this. All messed up. All mine.
Alexander shivered. Tobias didn’t need to put his teeth in him to change him: it was happening all the same.
His phone rang in the pocket of his discarded pants. Alexander cursed, dropping the jawbone knife. It almost landed blade-first on Tobias’s cheek before Alexander grabbed it, heart thundering.
Tobias lifted his head with a confused noise that Alexander refused to call adorable.
“Nothing,” Alexander said. “Go back to sleep.”
Tobias grunted. His head thudded back into the pillow, nuzzling the spot where Alexander had been.
Alexander retrieved his pants and his phone and headed into the hallway. He narrowly avoided tripping over the plate of eggs that Sadie had placed outside the door, now long cold.
He pulled on his pants and held his phone to his ear. “Hello?”
“We haven’t heard from you,” Meredith White said. “How is the hunt?”
Alexander automatically went to straighten his shirt before remembering he wasn’t wearing one.
“We’re changing plans,” he said. “But everything is still on track.”
His mother hummed skeptically. It was the kind of hum that would sound polite to outsiders. Alexander knew its true meaning: she thought he was lying.
“I’ll handle it,” Alexander said. “The mission will be complete by the end of the week.”
“It will,” his mother said. “Since we’re going to join.”
“You’re—what?”
“Your father and I are going to join you on this hunt,” his mother repeated, distracted. Something was clinking on her end of the line, metallic and scraping. It sounded like she was sharpening a knife. “We’ve discussed it. It’s too important to be mishandled.”
“But…” Alexander couldn’t find the words. He was torn between gratefulness and relief and deep, unfathomable terror. They couldn’t come to him. They’d find out he was working with Tobias. Or worse—so much worse.
“I can do this,” he insisted. “I can do it on my own.”
“You will, ideally,” his mother said. “We’ll only step in if you fail.”
Alexander was struck by a surprisingly humorous image of him being choked out by Muzzle’s bodyguards while his parents looked on consideringly. His father asking, now? And his mother telling him, give him ten more seconds. If he passes out, THEN we shoot.
“We’ll be in the city in three days,” his mother announced.
Three days. Alexander swallowed. They had to leave Fester soon.
“I look forward to it,” he said. Then, because his heart was still racing and his father’s warm words from their last phone call were still ringing in his head, he continued, “I…I missed you.”
His mother was silent. Alexander dug his hand into his pocket, clutching the jawbone knife she’d given him all those years ago. The smooth bone was a comfort, as always.
“We’ll see you soon,” she said. The words were typical. The tone, however, was so soft it made Alexander’s throat swell up. His mother was not a soft person. The fact that she allowed herself to sound like one was deeply touching. It sounded like forgiveness. Like welcome home.
“See you,” he choked.
She hung up. Alexander stood there, struggling stupidly against tears and squeezing his jawbone knife for longer than he intended.
Tobias yawned, audible through the bedroom door.
“Alex?” He called. “You around? You smell close!”
Alexander wanted to call back. But he had just noticed a strand of black hair falling in front of his eyes.
He caught it and pulled it tight. Then he headed back into the bedroom.
Tobias was stretching, his bare chest distracting in a way that Alexander didn’t have time for right now.
“There you are,” Tobias said, leaning back against the bed with an ease Alexander could never hope to attain. His smile dimmed. “You okay? You look weird.”
“I look normal,” Alexander replied. “And I feel great. Better than ever. How long are you going to be in the shower?”
Tobias blinked blearily. “Give me a second to wake up.”
“You’re awake,” Alexander replied, his skin tingling with nervous energy. He needed to wash the dye out of his hair, and he needed to do it fast. It didn’t matter that he wouldn’t see his parents for a few days.
Tobias cocked his head. Then he smiled again, almost as easy as when Alexander came in. “You could join me. Save water.”
Alexander imagined Tobias’s thick fingers massaging his scalp. He was the one who rubbed the black into Alexander’s hair. It only made sense that he washed it out.
Still—it felt wrong. Alexander needed to make himself correct on his own.
“You can go first,” he said.
Tobias sighed dramatically. “If you say so.” He got up, seemingly unconcerned by his nakedness, then bent down and gathered the clothes Sadie had left him.
Alexander kept his gaze fixed determinedly on Tobias’s face as he walked closer, clothes bundled loosely near his groin.
Tobias cupped Alexander’s face and kissed him. It was a warm, inviting kiss, and Alexander wanted to sink into it. But he was still clutching the jawbone knife in his pocket, and his mother’s words rang through his head.
He stepped back, giving Tobias a curt nod. “Let me know when you’re done.”
For a moment Tobias looked concerned, watching Alexander carefully. Then he smiled and the concern was gone.
“Don’t wait up,” Tobias said.
Forty minutes later, Alexander emerged into the backyard to find Honey feeding the chickens.
“Hey,” she said, scattering another handful of grain. “The others are going to the store for road-trip supplies.”
Alexander fought back a wave of old exasperation. “Please don’t start the whole ‘road trip’ thing this time.”
He immediately regretted the comment as Honey turned to him, grinning. He’d walked right into her trap. She was always doing that, only saying something to bait him into making a fool of himself. She loved making fun of him.
Much like a werewolf I know, Alexander thought. He grimaced as he remembered his ill-advised crush on Honey several years ago. Apparently, he had a type: hot, smooth people who took any opportunity to tease him.
Honey opened her mouth to say something that would make him flustered. Then she paused. “You’re blond again!”
Alexander tidied his damp hair. It had taken many thorough washes, but finally the water had run clear.
They had gotten this dye for this exact reason: it would wash out fast. Tobias said something about temporary tattoos and clip-on earrings coming next, and splashed Alexander with water when he told him it wasn’t happening.
“It really did suit you,” Honey continued, tossing one last handful of grain before throwing the basket back onto the porch behind them. “Did you do much experimenting with your style after you left?”
Alexander looked down at the awful clothes the girls had lent him: a pair of corduroy pants and a sweatshirt that proclaimed BERKELEY GIRLS DO IT BETTER. Both were from Honey’s suitcase. The baggy items were better than Sadie’s clothes, which were so tight they cut off Alexander’s circulation.
“No,” he said. “I’m the same.”
“Obviously not,” Honey said. She reached up like she was going to tug on his wet hair. Then in a surprising display of restraint, she averted the touch and pretended she was fixing her own hair instead.
“I changed my hair every week after I turned back,” she continued. “Do you know how annoying it is, not physically being able to change your hair?”
Alexander had been cutting his hair the same way since he’d been exiled. He modeled it after the haircuts he got back at home, his mother frowning as she flashed scissors around his head and his father making humorous comments about chopping off his ear.
“I imagine it’s less annoying than having to eat people for sustenance,” he replied.
He meant it as an acknowledgment that being a human must have been a relief. It was only at Honey’s brief pause that he realized it might have been offensive.
Which was fine, he assured himself as he repressed the urge to apologize. He didn’t care if he hurt these girls’ feelings. They ruined his life. If he had just killed them when he was told—
He didn’t finish that thought. It was much more difficult when one of the girls was standing in front of him, picking a chicken feather out of her admittedly cute hairstyle.
“I ate squirrels,” she reminded him.
Alexander folded his arms. “Not always.”
Honey groaned. “Nobody died!”
Alexander stared at her. “Multiple people died, Honey. You killed them. That’s how we found you in the first place.”
“Yeah, well…nobody who didn’t deserve it.
” Honey flicked a grain off her shirt. It had a matching Berkeley logo on it, and Alexander wondered how she was doing in California.
How she liked her classes, what her new friends were like.
He had no doubt she had a large group. She was very social and irritatingly charming.
He’d spent months watching her in the cafeteria, reporting her actions back to his parents and preparing for the hunt, and she was always chatting with someone.
Even if she often looked bored unless she was around Sadie.
“Sooo,” Honey said, a worrying gleam in her bright eyes. “Tobias is cute.”
Alexander turned and started walking back into the house.
“It’s Tobias or bugs,” Honey called after him. She fell into step beside him, tugging him to a stop. “I’m pestering you about one of them. Pick.”
Alexander eyed her hand on his arm. Once, she had the strength to break it with a twitch of her finger. Now she was even more helpless than him.
He twisted out of her grip. “Neither. Go hang out with your chickens—ow!”
He broke off, surprised into stillness as she grabbed that arm again and twisted it behind his back with impressive speed and form.
“My girlfriend’s a vampire,” she said sweetly. “Figured I should learn how to fight when I don’t have super strength. You know, in case weirdos like your family come and harass us. So: Tobias or bugs?”
Alexander pulled half-heartedly against her grip. It was shockingly solid.
“Bugs,” he said reluctantly.
Honey dropped his arm immediately. “Come and see a moth that’s going to blow your fucking socks off.”