“Feed her your blood,” I rasped.
Michael gently held me by my arms, his eyes filling with tears as said gently, “There is nothing more powerful than a bite, not even Karson’s blood. If she has any chance at all, biting her is the only way.”
Which would mean, if it worked she’d turn …
We couldn’t do anything but stare and wait.
The world stilled, as if it was staring at Georgie with a held breath. She wasn’t moving, didn’t stir. Her lips were open in her last gasp for air. Her eyes were still and vacant.
“Please, Georgie,” I whispered. “Please.”
But no amount of pleading could bring her back. It was too late.
Georgie was dead.
Georgie, the girl who took me under her wing. My friend—no, more than a friend, more of a sister than my own sister was. Georgie, who made the room light up with her laughter, was gone.
“Bite her again.” Monique sounded frantic.
Rodney bowed his head, his voice coming out sad and husky. “There’s no point.”
“Bite her again!” Monique shouted.
Rodney picked her up out of the pool of blood she lay in and carried her across the room, his footsteps slow and heavy. He laid her gently down on the stage, her blood-clumped hair sticking to her face and wound. He brushed her hair back with the tenderness of a lover. “You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured. “Of all the people on this earth, you deserved better.”
He stepped back.
Georgie was dead.
Monique was crying silently.
My ravaged cry shattered the quiet of the room. My knees buckled, Michael’s hands on my arms the only thing stopping me from collapsing.
Rodney turned back slowly, anger curdling in his eyes. “What did you do?”
My blood ran cold. He’d seen the people in my life, the ones I loved, fleeting moments captured, when he’d invaded my head. He should know who I was.
Michael released my arms and moved beside me. “She wouldn’t have done this, Rodney.” But both he and Monique were staring at me as if?—
As if they thought events repeated themselves. As if a part of them thought I did.
“You think I did this? You think I would hurt her. You’ve seen inside my head,” I spat. “Am I capable of hurting her?”
Rodney’s face flickered—was that guilt I saw? I thought he’d back off, but instead he ground his teeth. “I heard you apologizing. What. Did. You. Do?”
He vibrated with rage. It was too much for me to take; my whole world had just shattered. I didn’t care if he was angry, or upset, or deadly. “Fuck you, you piece of shit.”
“Rodney,” Michael edged toward him. “I would advise you to reconsider whatever it is you’re?—”
Georgie gasped. Her hand flew to her throat.
Rodney swung back, removing her hand and inspecting the wound on her neck?—
It was weaving together, the flesh closing over as if an invisible hand was stitching it.
He let out a breath of relief and sank to his knees, clutching hold of her hand.
Georgie stared wide-eyed at the ceiling, tears streaming down her cheeks.
