Freeks(82)

“Yeah, exactly.” Gabe nodded. “My mom used to tell me horror stories about our ancestors being hunted and murdered.”

“It’s hard to find people that accept you when you’re like us,” I agreed.

Gabe had been staring off, but he looked at me then. He moved closer so his knee pressed against mine, and took my hand in his. His eyes met mine, burning with something more powerful than lust.

“I don’t want you to go tomorrow,” he said, with the earnestness in his words verging on pleading.

“Gabe—”

“I’ve never met anyone like you or had a connection with anyone the way I do with you,” he said, interrupting my protests. “I don’t want to lose you.”

I shook my head, forcing myself to ignore the pain in my heart. “It’s not just that my family, my friends, my whole life is leaving tomorrow. But there’s a monster here trying to kill me. I can’t stay.”

“What if the monster goes away?” Gabe asked.

“How?” I asked. “We don’t even know what it is or what it wants, let alone how to stop it or make it go away.”

“When I was a wolf, I was able to chase it off,” Gabe said hurriedly. “Maybe my mom and Selena can help, or maybe they’ll know something that I don’t. I don’t know. But we can’t live here with that monster either.”

I hesitated before saying, “Even if that’s true, even if you can stop it—and that’s a really big ‘if’—I don’t know.”

“I don’t want to force you or anything,” he said. “I just want you to consider staying with me longer.”

“I’ll consider it but … I can’t make any promises. You’re asking me to give up the only life I’ve known, you know?”

“I do.” Gabe lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be pressuring you like this. There’s too much going on, and who knows what the night will bring.”

We might not even survive the night, I thought, but I didn’t say it aloud. It only made everything more confusing and terrifying.

On another day, in another place, I would’ve been thrilled by the prospect of setting up in a real house with a real life with someone who I was crazy about.

But that was before I realized that I was a necromancer, like my mom and my grandma before her, and I knew the insanity and dangers that went along with it. Not to mention the darkness that seemed to envelope Caudry.

As much as I cared about Gabe, I knew I could never make this place my home.

I stood up, suddenly feeling like I needed space to breathe and think.

“Are you okay?” Gabe asked, getting to his feet more slowly. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, I’m fine. I just … needed to move,” I explained lamely.

I began wandering through the expanse of the living room, admiring the artwork in bold primary colors clashing against the frosted wallpaper and gold fireplace.

The mantel of the fireplace seemed to serve as the place for more personal photos. A picture of Selena in a cap and gown, Gabe as a toddler with a puppy, the two kids with their dad in front of one of his restaurants.

But the one that really grabbed my attention was an eight by ten of Della Jane—younger, with her curls as wild as ever and a flower in her hair. Her head was thrown back a little with a smile so wide, she had to be caught mid-laugh.

Beside her stood a shirtless man with a peace symbol painted on his chest. His hair was disheveled with a slight curl to it. He was taller than Della Jane, and his arm was looped around her shoulders, squeezing her close to him.

But it was his smile that caught me. He had the exact same smile as Gabe.

Behind them was a crowd, though they were too blurred to be distinguishable. A banner hung from a tree, the fabric rippled and slouching, but between the wrinkles, I could just make out the words:




“That’s my uncle Beau,” Gabe explained, coming up behind me.

“You look like him.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot, mostly from my mom,” Gabe said, then there was a long pause before he added, “He killed himself.”

“What?” I asked, making sure I heard him right.

“Last summer, he drowned in the lake,” he explained. “Only way to kill a werewolf is with a silver bullet, but when we’re in human form, we’re just as vulnerable as anyone else.”

I didn’t know what to say, so Gabe went on. “They officially ruled it as an accident, out of respect for Beau and my family. But he killed himself. He filled his pockets with rocks and walked out into Lake Tristeaux.”

“I’m sorry.” I touched his arm. “Do you know why he did it?”

He shrugged emptily. “If Mom has any suspicions, she won’t tell me. I thought it was because of the curse.”

“What do you mean?”

“That he just got sick of living and dealing with the curse,” Gabe elaborated. “My mom lucked out with my dad, because he’s been so supportive, but Uncle Beau wasn’t as fortunate. His fiancée left him when she found out. He tried to fill his life with parties and friends after that, but it wasn’t the same.”

“Loneliness is a curse itself,” I said.

“Yeah,” Gabe agreed, but furrowed his brow, like he was thinking something. “But lately I’ve been wondering if there’s more to it than that.”