Voracious - Alice Henderson [93]
“If I can’t kill him, what fucking use am I?”
She couldn’t imagine the hopelessness Noah must be feeling. He’d followed Stefan for two hundred years, finally had the perfect weapon, the only weapon, to destroy him, and now it was gone.
But this—this was an insane, hateful way to end things.
None of them had seen her yet.
Now she stepped out behind the ranger’s truck and approached them. “Noah,” she said, when she’d reached Steve’s side. “This is crazy. Please don’t do this.”
He took her in, rage-filled eyes roaming over her. In a rain of spittle he uttered low and threateningly, “You goddamn, lousy sack of worthless shit! I’d still have the knife if it weren’t for you! I should kill you before I kill myself, reach in your belly and rip out your intestines, tear your face apart, you foul, useless shit!” He advanced suddenly, and Steve stepped quickly in the way, holding out his hand in protest.
Noah went on. “I’ll take you down with me before you have the chance to fuck up someone else’s life! You’re a god-damned joke!” Stopping in his tracks, he suddenly cocked his head to one side and said in a mocking voice, “ ‘I’ll help you stop him.’ ” She remembered saying those very words to Noah when she’d returned in the middle of the night after the forest fire ordeal. She’d meant them. Her mouth fell open, his words cutting to the core. He continued to mock her. “ ‘But ooops! Gosh, did I let the creature get the knife?’ ” Then he roared in her face, rushing forward and colliding with Steve’s outstretched hand. “ ‘Yes, I fucking did!’ ” Spittle rained over her face.
The reek of gasoline was unbearable. She staggered backward, her eyes stinging as a huge lump formed in her throat. She hadn’t let the creature have the knife.
Suddenly she wondered if he was the creature, once again taking on Noah’s appearance, saying these terrible things to drive them apart. They’d be less of a threat individually. It made sense.
But one look in his eyes told her that this was the genuine article; his grief-stricken face was the same face that had relayed to her the story of Anna’s death. The creature could be convincing, but not this convincing.
He continued to scream at her as Suzanne gently pushed her back, out of his reach. “I should have fucking left you for dead on the mountain. Or better yet, used you for bait. While he was feasting on your ruined corpse, I could have snuck up behind him and finished him off once and for all.”
“Noah!” she cried, wounded and retreating. Her mind spun. The rage in his eyes took on an almost physical manifestation. The veins in his neck bulged, his lips drawn back cruelly from his teeth as he shouted.
He hated her. Truly, utterly hated her.
Suzanne took hold of Madeline’s face to get her attention. “Honey,” she said. “You need to move back. You’re making things worse. He’s deranged. Just move back.”
Once again Madeline thought of a rabid dog. The way the ranger spoke of him, he might as well be.
Steve pushed hard against Noah, trying to restrain him, gas soaking the naturalist’s clothes as well. “Help!” Steve said to Suzanne. “I’m not trained for this sort of thing.”
The law enforcement ranger moved in. She grasped Noah in a painful-looking hold, with his arm twisted severely behind his back. Noah grimaced and sucked in breath sharply. She pushed him against the car and pulled out her handcuffs. Slapping them on his wrists, she cursed, “Where the hell are the other rangers? We radioed them ten minutes ago!”
As if on cue, sirens blared in the distance then died out just as quickly. Two park service trucks pulled onto the campground