Voracious - Alice Henderson [90]
She popped open the chilled soda and downed a few gulps, wondering what she should do. Noah looked in no way ready to continue his pursuit of Stefan. She herself didn’t know what they’d do, even if they did manage to hunt him down. But just sitting there not even knowing what Stefan was up to or what he planned next was maddening and almost more terrifying than knowing what his plans were.
She thought of the images she’d gotten in the cabin when she touched his sheets, Stefan twisting in the blankets, mind obsessing on her like some raving stalker, the need to have her.
She shuddered, thinking of the night before, of him on top of her, looking so much like Noah, but not Noah. How dare he? Moisture fled her mouth as her heart began to pound with fury. Why? Why?
“I’ve traveled for so long. You can see the journey I’ve had. You could know me. Without me saying a word.”
So this creature, however old he was, possibly ancient, had traveled alone … like the legendary vampire from folklore, watching everyone grow old and die around him. Or watching everyone die at his hands. No one to know the anguish he’d experienced, the anguish he’d caused. And now he’d been alive for so long that he couldn’t even explain it to someone. Too long. Too many lives, too many memories. No one could possibly understand.
Except me, Madeline thought.
She could touch him and see where he’d been, whom he’d loved, if he’d loved, whom he’d killed and hated and wanted to be. Whom he lusted after, the cities he’d prowled, the dark, subterranean worlds he’d infiltrated and conquered. Every time he’d felt a blade or bullet tear into his anguished flesh, each time he’d taken the form of some hapless street musician, or cook, or ranger …
She could know all those things without him saying a word. Compliments of her “gift.”
Slamming the can down on the table, Madeline stood up, knocking the chair to the floor. Her hands shaking violently, she tried to calm the angry pounding of her heart.
This was not what she wanted. This was everything she didn’t want. She’d come here to get away from her abilities, from people, from the pressure. Instead she’d met a monster, become irretrievably entangled with a centuries-old hunter, and now faced the ultimate choice between living life for herself and risking it to fight an ancient evil.
Three days ago she’d met a monster.
It had stalked her, pulled at her legs in the icy throes of a glacial flash flood, dragged her down. Though she was free of those icy, crushing currents, still the creature threatened to drag her down, down, into the freezing depths where death, or rebirth, awaited.
Worriedly, she stooped over the small table, crumpled up the plastic wrap, and threw it into the beige wastebasket. Drank another slug of soda.
She paced to the bedroom door, then back to the table, the wooden boards groaning in protest beneath her feet. She had to do something. Couldn’t just wait there.
Steve, she thought suddenly. Maybe Steve will have some news. Ensuring that she had the key by patting the pocket in the jeans, she turned the small lock in the doorknob and shut the door behind herself.
After double-checking that it was locked, she walked off in the direction of Steve’s cabin, the same route she’d taken two nights before.
In the daylight, the journey was completely different: brighter, friendlier. Where shadows had clustered beneath the thick trunks of Douglas fir trees, now chickarees thrived, darting quickly from stash to stash, digging up and burying scavenged seeds. Large huckleberry bushes now hid only mountain chickadees and sparrows instead of every imaginable horror her mind could cook up.
Wondering if she’d see the bear again and peering into the tall undergrowth of ripening berries, she almost stepped in a large berry-encrusted pile of grizzly scat. The size of a football, the black mass with red