It’s going to be okay, I’m going to find a way to fix this.
Apparently, I’ve chosen lying to myself as a coping mechanism. Whatever gets the job done for now, I guess.
Waves of despair and depression emanate from the building, growing stronger as we get closer. I grit my teeth against them, even as my hunger throbs in me.
I can’t risk it. Even taking what’s offered, these mini-emotional deaths, I might accidentally kill someone if they’re too close to death. I mean, depression or despair when facing the end of one’s life is a logical reaction. And I don’t want to tip someone over the edge, stealing from them what little time they have left.
This is why I hate hospitals. Even when they’re not currently housing people I care about. I am the fucking Grim Reaper, and I don’t want to be.
Determined to keep my control and get inside as quickly as possible, I straighten my shoulders, heading for the revolving doors, with Devon just a step behind me.
But as soon as I cross into the vehicle turnaround, a man steps out from behind one of the pillars supporting the overhang into my path.
I step to the side automatically to avoid a collision, muttering a pointed, “Excuse me.”
He steps with me, though, continuing to block my way as he flicks his cigarette to the ground.
Annoyed, I actually bother to look at him this time, expecting it to be someone I know, trying to get my attention. But he’s a stranger to me. In his mid or late twenties, he’s short but powerfully built. Light brown skin with sharply angled cheekbones. Histhin leather jacket stretches painfully across his overly muscular shoulders and chest, revealing the plain white T-shirt beneath. He looks like a gym bro, but I don’t know many of those who smoke.
“You are not at all what I expected,” he says to me, with a grin that reveals a charming gap between his front teeth.
“Do I know you?” I ask, as I try one more time to step around him.
“Jo,” Devon murmurs behind me in warning.
Gym Bro shifts with me to keep his position in front of me. “I thought you would be, I don’t know, mysterious or spooky or something.” He holds his hands up and waggles his fingers for effect. “Dressed in black, with a bunch of piercings and shit. Maybe one of those dog collars with the spikes.” He gestures to his thick neck, as if indicating where the collar would go.
I freeze. He’s one of us. But friend or foe?
“I think you’re mistaking me for a Halloween costume,” I say flatly. “What do you want?”
He chuckles, ignoring my question. “But I mean, look at you. You’re the basic white girl, college edition, right out of the catalog. All you’re missing is the giant water bottle and a Starbucks pastry bag.” He looks delighted with himself and his assessment.
Chessa and Carter are upstairs, somewhere, waiting, and Daan is lying in a hospital bed because of me. I do not have time for this.
Spawn or not, I’m done with him. I move into his personal space. “What the fuck do you—”
It’s like hitting a wall. Sheer terror wraps itself around me, like plastic wrap around my face. I can’t breathe, can’t move. My heart rattles in my chest, and a scream lodges itself in my throat.
Gym Bro leans in closer, whispering in my ear. “I definitely thought you would be more powerful.”
It’s hard to get my brain to cooperate when adrenaline is flooding my system, and my amygdala is screaming at me to RUN.
Fear. He’s obviously Fear spawn. There aren’t many because, cynicism would suggest, Fear can’t get near enough women to actually generate offspring. They run away. As they should.
“I don’t usually bother with small towns like this. Just not enough going on. Even at the hospitals.” The Fear spawn beams at me. “The sweet spot is a larger city, especially with one of those cancer treatment facilities.” He licks his lips. “Just like fast food, baby. Reliable. Always plenty to make and take there.”
Asshole.A rivulet of disgust pokes its way through his control, like a finger breaking through that plastic wrap, allowing oxygen in.
“But today, here?” He gestures to the hospital and then outward, as if to indicate all of Beecher. “I don’t know what you all are up to, but this is a veritable feast!” He claps his hands together with a loud sound that makes my already-trembling body jump.
Dizziness swirls in my head, and I can feel the pull of him feeding on me, devouring my fear, even as he provokes more.
What if Carter hates me? What if Chessa rejects me? What if Daandies? What if, what if, what if?I can’t shut my thoughts off long enough to focus on the small break I made.
“You are delicious with fear, like a cream-filled center.” He brushes his lips across my cheek, and I shudder in disgust.
His gaze switches to Devon, just past my shoulder. “And you, Lust boy, you are an interesting case. All hard outer shell until ‘crunch.’” He snaps his teeth.
