I nod, but I don’t trust my voice.
She surveys the mess, then pulls me close, shielding me from the stares. “We have to go. Cops will be here any second.”
We slip out the back, down an alley slick with rain and broken glass. I don’t remember the walk to the truck, just the feel of Eve’s arm around my shoulders and the sound of sirens in the distance.
Dahlia’s waiting, engine running. She takes one look at me and curses under her breath, then peels away from the curb.
No one speaks for the first few minutes. Isolde holds my hand, thumb stroking the back in slow circles. Eve lights a cigarette with shaking fingers, then passes it to me. I inhale, cough, but the burn steadies me.
Dahlia finally breaks the silence. “Colt and Bam have Jules, they’re headed to your dorm.”
It’s not a joke, but for some reason a laugh escapes me anyway.
We ride in silence. The city fades behind us, replaced by the slow, rolling darkness of the outskirts. The adrenaline wears off, replaced by a deep, shuddering exhaustion.
We reach the dorm. Eve helps me out of the truck, arms steady around my waist.
Inside, the halls are empty. The clock above the common room says 3:17.
Eve walks me to my door, then waits while I fumble with the key.
“You’re safe now,” she says.
I nod, step inside, and close the door behind me.
For a long time, I just stand there, staring at the dark. I expect to cry, but no tears come. Instead, I feel a slow, consuming heat build in my chest.
I peel off the dress, toss it on the floor. My legs are streaked with blood. I wipe it away with a towel, watching the red smear and then disappear.
I look at myself in the mirror.
My lips are swollen, my hair wild, my eyes huge. I look like a girl who could survive anything.
I think of Julian, of the way he fought for me, of the promise in his eyes.
I climb into bed, pulling the blanket up to my chin.
I close my eyes and think of teeth and blood and the feeling of being wanted so fiercely it could kill me.
Then I’m interrupted by the sound of tapping at my window.
I cross the room and slide it open. Julian is on the fire escape, shirtless, knuckles raw and bloody.
He doesn’t ask permission.
He climbs through, gathers me up, and presses his mouth to mine.
It’s iron and salt and the memory of fear. Of being protected. Like a dark angel.
But I kiss him back, hard.
Because finally, I understand:
To belong to a monster is to become one.
And I am ravenous.
Chapter 10: Julian
