“Once or twice happens, Becca. You’ve killed twelve people.”
“I was hungry!” she snapped. “How do you all stand it? It’s like honey running through their veins—the heartbeat sounds like so many little bees buzzing around. Surely you understand.”
“We did understand,” Brother Aleister said. “After your first. After your second. After your fifth, Eddie begged for us to give you one final chance.”
Rebecca sobbed suddenly, falling to her knees.
“This is just so hard,” she said, through running mascara.
“Becca. Just give up. There’s no way out of this situation now except to prepare for the consequences.”
“Consequences,” Rebecca said. “Men give you problems, but they don’t ever have to deal with them. Am I right? Back me up here, Stace.”
I said nothing. Not because she was wrong, but because I couldn’t speak. Rebecca closed her eyes and rocked, sobbing again.
“I was just so hungry,” she said. “I never could eat when I was alive. Always some voice in the back of my head, telling me I’m too ugly or too fat. And suddenly the voice went away. And I realized I’d been hungry my whole life. And there was nothing, nobody that could stop me from eating my fill.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“Me too,” she said. “Eddie, you’re right. I don’t see any other way out of this. I give up. You can stand at ease.”
The pale man—Vic, I assumed—stopped moving his hands, and the barrier began to dissipate around the roof. As soon as the horizon was visible again, Rebecca lunged. All I saw was a blur of motion towards the edge—heard Eddie and Brother Aleister hiss. Wind was whistling. All I could do was scream ‘Noooooo!’ and scrabble out to the edge of the roof.
There was the sick sound of meat hitting concrete. I peeked my head over the ledge.
Rebecca lay there, a twisted pile of broken limbs in a puddle of blood. She’d thrown herself over.
“Don’t think there’s any coming back from that,” Vic said.
“Indeed,” Nagi said.
Chapter 13
“So let’s talk turkey,” I said when it was over, and we were seated for coffee. We all had Styrofoam cups. I got coffee. Whatever the other two-three got, it was dark and rich and mahogany. “I know what you are.”
“Vampires,” Brother Aleister said. “The Noble Undead.”
“I’ve already got some backup information squirreled away with a dead man’s switch. You kill me here and now, and word gets out. You guys get picked up by the cops, and they send the feds in to dissect you. Your cover’s blown.”
“Manipulative little fox, isn’t she,” Nagi said. He looked impressed.
“It’s not as simple as you’re making it,” Brother Aleister said. “You saw what happened. We tried to protect you.”
“You really gotta work with us here, Stace,” Eddie said. “For me.”
“What was that all about out there?” I asked.
“The Change gone sour,” Vic said. “Look. There’s a common experience we have. We remember what it was like to be human. And then we remember what it was like to Change. It impacts everyone differently, but until you get accustomed to everything, it can be a real doozy.”
“Perhaps that’s an understatement,” Nagi said.
“She seemed like she was nuts,” I said. “It still wasn’t fair. You know she wasn’t wrong.”
“She was not,” Brother Aleister said. “Yet in the end, correct words amount to naught if one’s actions do not back them up. She was a murderer of men. That runs counter to our philosophy. It is possible to be a member of the undead and still retain a civil role in society.”
“You’re telling me you’re all vegetarians?”
“No,” Vic said.
