The facts helped stabilize his control so that he didn’t launch himself at the helpless people in front of him. But they were breathing. They had heartbeats. They hadblood. He was thirsty.
“Take your pick.” Seamus nudged Zack closer to the open van doors.
Zack braced himself on the edge of the van, arms spread wide like he was holding himself over an infinite abyss. “I … I can’t.”
“Why not?” Seamus said patiently. He was at Zack’s ear.
Zack tightened his grip. Metal crunched under his fingertips. “These are … innocent people … We should let them go.”
“How do you know they’re innocent?” Seamus put his hand on Zack’s shoulder. “And why does that matter at all? They’refood. You need to eat.”
“I don’t want to be a monster,” Zack said desperately.
“Monsters only exist in fairy tales.” Seamus squeezed his shoulder. “If it helps, know that whoever survives us will go to Steward’s Garden.”
“We should let themgo.”
“Why?” Seamus asked.
Logic felt like a singular sticky note inside a pile of loose paper pages four feet deep. Zack had to push and fight to find it. The reason. There had to be a reason not to do this. One came to him, and he looked over his shoulder at Seamus. His voice was weak even in his own ears. “Because it’s the right thing to do.”
“Says who? Your human parents that abandoned you? The hunters who would plunge their weapons through us simply forwhat we are? Humans who would claw and kill each other to survive if they have to?” Seamus asked. His voice was calm, and that held a soothing appeal.
He’s tricking me.
Tricking you into surviving? How dastardly, his practical voice replied.
“No matter what I do, they’re dead?” Zack whispered.
“Yes. You may as well take what you need.”
One of the humans whimpered, and that drew Zack’s attention. The tang of his own fear was on the back of his tongue, but he was thirsty and before him was exactly what he needed.I can have control over my feeding or go into a blood frenzy. And this way, they won’t suffer. He grabbed the feet of the nearest man, hauled him out of the van, and sank his teeth into his neck.
Seamus stroked his hair as he fed and murmured, “That’s my boy.”
CHAPTER 27
Gathering the resources for the heist took a few nights, but as Roger finished strapping a third silver dagger to his belt, he couldn’t deny the comfort in being well armed and prepared. Josefina had used her connections to discreetly purchase an old brick building roughly three miles from their target, which made it an ideal staging ground. Once upon a time, the building had housed a dance studio. One wall had the remains of broken mirrors, and through them, bits of movement were reflected. Roger had to suppress his urge to alert to each tiny bit of activity in his peripheral vision.
Ready for the mission, he checked on the others.
Like him, everyone was dressed all in black, complete with black gloves and ski masks. Josefina already had her mask on her head, though it was rolled up for the moment. Seeing her with short hair instead of her long braid was still an adjustment for Roger. Along with a short sword, she had a collapsible truncheon and a heavy UV flashlight.
Roger had invited Nathaniel, but he had pointed out that he had a business to run, and it’d be suspicious if the attack happened on the one night he wasn’t tending bar. Nathaniel had recommended Janiyah to the job in his stead. She maintainedan icy glare whenever she glanced Roger’s way, and her coldness seemed to extend to Thomas, Amber, and Vincent but not Dmitri or Josefina.
Thomas was a natural choice for inclusion, even if his mere presence continued to remind Roger of his failure to save Zack. After a few nights working together, Thomas was beginning to stand out as his own man, but there remained an aspect to him that slid under Roger’s skin and festered. Something about the way he stood was too much an echo of his son.
Against Roger’s better judgment, Thomas had insisted on adding Amber to their team. He pointed out that his daughter had tactical experience that they needed. When Dmitri had seconded bringing another trained hunter, Roger had conceded. Dmitri was the one who knew the building and security.
Since much of the planning had happened within Vincent’s earshot, he’d invited himself. Roger didn’t have the heart to deny the boy a measure of revenge against Seamus. No one was particularly happy about an untrained compatriot, but Vincent knew how to drive. Making him the wheelman meant a trained fighter was free to join them inside the building, and no one had disagreed with that idea.
Still, Roger found himself lingering near Vincent as the group finished their preparations. Vincent leaned against a wall and spun a set of keys around his finger. His color was better than it’d been, and his movements had a quickness to them he hadn’t had.
Softly, Roger said, “Remember?—”
“Stay in the van,” Vincent recited. “Keep the engine running. If anyone launches an attack on the van, blare the horn as long and loud as I can.”
“If the vehicle’s compromised?”
