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My head turned slowly of its own accord, and I glared at him. “I have done my best for them tonight. I have gone above and beyond my personal best for them tonight.”

“Until they’re safe, it’s not over.”

“I know that. Don’t you think I know that? If I don’t get them out alive, then what I did was for nothing.”

“And what do you think you did?” he asked.

I shook my head. “You saw.”

“I helped hold him down.”

“I’m sorry about that.”

Jason put a hand on each shoulder and shook me gently. “Damn it, Anita, get a grip. It isn’t like you to wallow in the horror. You’re a good soldier. You kill and keep going like you’re supposed to.”

I pushed him away from me. “I tortured a man, Jason. I reduced him to something that writhed on the floor, mewling with terror and pain. And I wanted to do it. I wanted him to hurt because of what they’d done to Charlotte and Daniel. I wanted to do it.” I shook my head. “I’ll do my bit tonight, but forgive me if it’s a little harder to keep going than normal. Forgive me if I’m not superwoman, after all.”

“Not superwoman?” he exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest in mock surprise. “You’ve lied to me all these years!”

It made me smile, and I didn’t want to smile. “Stop it.”

“Stop what? Cheering you up? Or is life supposed to stop because you did something horrible? I’ll tell you the real horrible truth, Anita. No matter what you do or how bad you feel about it, life just goes on. Life doesn’t give a fuck that you’re sorry or upset or deranged or tormented. Life just goes on, and you gotta go on with it, or sit in the middle of the road and feel sorry for yourself. And I don’t see you doing that.”

“I am not feeling sorry for myself.”

“You aren’t all broken up about Thompson. You’re broken up because of what you did to Thompson and how it makes you feel. You don’t give a rat’s ass about him. You’re just weeping and gnashing your teeth about how much of a monster you are. Well, I get enough of that from Richard. I don’t need it from you. So get your act together. We’ve got people we care about to save.”

I stared at him. “You know what’s really bothering me?”

“No, what?”

“I don’t feel bad about cutting Thompson up. I think he deserved it.”

“He did,” Jason said.

“No one deserves to be tortured, Jason. No one deserves what we did—what I did—to him. That’s what the front of my brain keeps telling me. It keeps telling me I should feel sorry about it, horrified. This should be something that breaks me. But you know what?”

“What?” Jason asked.

“It won’t break me, because right now the only thing I regret is that I didn’t have enough nerve to cut off his dick and keep it as a souvenir for Richard’s mom. Killing him, even torturing him, wasn’t enough. The Zeemans are like the fucking Waltons. To think that anyone could come in and take that away—spoil it forever—just makes me so angry—so angry that all I can do is kill them. Kill them all. There’s no regret in me.” I looked at him in the dark. “There should be regret for something, Jason. I can kill and not blink. Now I can torture and not regret it. I’ve become one of the monsters, and if it will save Richard’s family, I am happy to be one.”

“Feel any better?” Jason said.

“Yeah, I do. I’m a monster, but it’s for a good cause.”

“To save Richard’s mom, I’d do a hell of a lot worse than cut a few fingers off,” Jason said.

“Me, too,” I said.

“Then let’s do it,” he said.

We got out of the van and went to do it.

44

EVERYONE HAD MELTED into the woods like stones thrown on the surface of some dark lake. Even Ben, who was carrying Roxanne, had vanished. I moved through the trees at a slower, more human pace. Nathaniel stayed with me like a well-trained dog. I almost wished he’d gone off with the others. His company was not comforting because though he was able-bodied and a wereleopard, I wasn’t sure I should be taking him into a fight.

He crouched beside me, hand on my arm, pulling me down. I went to my knees beside him, gun ready. He pointed to our right, and I heard it: someone