Simon ignored him. All his focus narrowed to the infuriating creature before him, who was still pressed against the wall like he thought he could phase through it if he tried hard enough.
"Tell me truthfully what you think about when you see humans."
Charlie's answer was immediate, compelled: "I wonder if they're happy. If they're tired. Sometimes I make up stories about where they're going." His eyes widened at his own words. "I didn't mean to say that."
"What about their blood?"
"I try not to think about it." Charlie licked his lips. "But when I do, I feel guilty. Like I'm betraying them by noticing they're alive."
This wasn't right. Forced to spill his secrets, Charlie should be revealing predatory instincts. Hunting strategies. The truth beneath the act.
But there was no act. There was only this soft-looking boy with eyes the color of chocolate and no sense of self-preservation.
Simon's chest tightened.
"Tell me what you really are." His voice came out rougher now.
Charlie's face crumpled. "I don't understand what you want. This is what I am. I'm sorry it's not—" His breath hitched. "I'm sorry I'm not what you need me to be."
"Didn't I tell you to stop apologizing?"
"I can't!" Charlie's voice cracked. "I can't stop being sorry for existing wrong. Is that what you want to hear? That I know I'm a disappointment? That I'm a failed vampire and a failed human and I don't fit anywhere?"
The words rang hollow. Charlie's eyes were bright with unshed tears, his whole body trembling against the wall.
Viktor stepped closer. "That's enough."
"No." Simon didn't look at him. Couldn't look away from the man who was turning his whole world upside down. "It's not enough."
Reuben's voice echoed in his memory:They're all the same underneath.
They had to be. Because if they weren't… If Charlie was exactly what he appeared to be…
What did that make the hundred and seventeen dust piles Simon had left behind?
"Tell me about the last time you wanted to hurt someone," Simon commanded.
Charlie blinked, confused. "I... I can't remember."
"You can't remember?"
"No, I mean…" Charlie's brow furrowed, like he was searching through his memories. "I don't think I've wanted to hurt anyone. Not even..." He swallowed. "Not even the vampire who turned me. I just wanted him to come back. To explain what was happening to me."
Simon's hands clenched into fists. This was wrong. All wrong.
"When you're hungry," he pressed, "when you need blood, what do you think about?"
"You." The word escaped before Charlie could stop it, and his face went red. "I mean, your blood. It's the only thing thatdoesn't make me sick. I think about how it tastes like comfort and I hate myself for wanting it because you don't, you didn't, I mean, you never wanted?—"
"Stop."
Charlie's mouth snapped shut, but his eyes were still talking. Wide and brown and so painfully human despite everything.
Simon felt something fracturing inside his chest. Some fundamental truth he'd built his entire life around, splintering like ice under pressure.
He could feel the shards of it dig into him.
"You know what he is now." Viktor's voice was quiet, careful. "You know he's not lying."
