Part 13 (1/2)

My heart leapt into my throat. Images from my experience flashed in my mind. I remembered those faces looking down at me while I'd been naked on the bed, sucked dry. But what they hadn't realized was that I had still been alive.

Obviously, Reagan hadn't been as lucky.

”When I saw her on the bed, eyes closed, I didn't know what to do. I remember rus.h.i.+ng to the bed to check on her, but Devon grabbed my arm hard. Sometimes I can still feel the pressure of her hand around my bicep. She's a lot stronger than she looks.”

He glanced at me, then back down to his hands fidgeting in his lap. I wanted to go to him, but I wasn't sure if he'd appreciate the gesture or loathe me for it. He was impossible to read. And I didn't want to make a mistake with him, not now when his pain was so open and raw, bleeding out all over the room.

His grief was so palpable; I could feel it skim the surface of my skin. Goose b.u.mps rose on every part of my body.

”I knew she was dead. I could feel it all the way down to my bones.” He s.h.i.+vered. ”I attacked Thane, I remember that clearly. But he was so strong it didn't take much for him to knock me unconscious. I woke up hours later in my own bed at home, disoriented, confused. I got up and went looking for Reagan, thinking maybe I had dreamed everything. But she wasn't there.”

”Hours later, the cops showed up. I guess my mom put out a missing person's report on her, which surprised me because I didn't think she gave a s.h.i.+t about either us. Anyway, I told the cops what had happened and they went to speak to the band. I was sure they would find her body and arrest Thane. But they returned that night with other plans.” He jumped up then from the sofa startling me. ”I'm thirsty. Do you want a drink? I need a drink.” He wandered into the kitchenette and opened the compact refrigerator. ”I'm having a beer, do you want one?”

”Yeah, sure.” I wasn't much of a beer drinker, but I needed something, anything to calm my nerves. Trevor's story had me on edge. I couldn't imagine what he'd gone through.

He came back, with two beers. He twisted the top off both, handed one to me, then sat back down on the sofa. I watched as he took a long pull, draining nearly half the bottle. I took a small sip and set the beer on the table, settling back in for the rest of his story. Although it broke my heart in pieces, I needed to hear the rest. And I think deep down he really needed to tell it, especially to someone that wouldn't think he was nuts.

”The cops didn't find the body?” I asked.

He shook his head. ”They didn't find anything. Not even the band. There wasn't even a record of them ever playing at the club we'd been at.”

”Really? How could that be?”

He shrugged. ”I don't know, but that's how it went down. Then they took me in and questioned me for hours.”

”Oh, my G.o.d Trevor, did they think you...”

”Yup. They thought I killed her and stuffed the body somewhere.”

I couldn't stand it anymore. I had to go to him. The anguish on his face and voice twisted me in half. Without a word, I moved over to the sofa and sat beside him. Not close enough that we were touching, but near enough if he wanted me to, I could reach for him. He glanced at me briefly as I settled in beside him, but he didn't make an effort to move away.

”Did they arrest you?”

He shook his head and took another pull on the beer. ”They didn't get a chance. The minute I was released from questioning, I packed my s.h.i.+t and took off.”

”Where did you go?”

”I traveled a bit up and down the west coast, panhandling and working odd jobs for money. I hit San Fran, L.A., but it wasn't until I hit San Diego that I noticed something really wrong. The changes didn't happen to me as fast as they did you. It wasn't until after a good two weeks that I knew something was wrong with me. Not until I met MJ and put her into a coma.”

He drained the rest of his drink, stood and went back into the kitchen to get another. After twisting the cap, he walked back into the living room. ”After that happened, I sought Razorwire out to find out what the h.e.l.l was wrong with me. I caught up with them in Salt Lake City of all places. I got drunk and attacked them at the club they were playing.” He paused taking another drink and glanced down at his feet as if he was picturing the whole thing over again. ”They could've killed me right there and then, they are so much stronger and faster, but instead they offered me a job. To be one of their roadies. So I thought about that saying aeKeep your friends close, and your enemies closer' to find a way to kill them.”

I reached for him, setting my hand on his shoulder. I squeezed, letting him know I was there. ”I'm so sorry, Trevor. It must've been awful for you to go through all of that.”

He shrugged off my hand and glared at me. ”I don't need your sympathy.”

Taken back, I met his gaze, my mouth agape. ”You're a jerk, you know that? I wasn't trying to give you sympathy, but, I don't know, be a friend.”

”I don't need you to be my friend.”

”What do you need from me, then?”

”To help me find a way to kill them.”

I shook my head, and put my hands up in frustration. What I really wanted to do was strangle him. He was so exasperating. ”Why me? Why not someone else? I'm sure there are other better qualified people to help you murder four people, well, not people I guess, but things.”

”Because you're the first girl I've met to ever survive the transition.”

Chapter 17.

That little bomb propelled me to my feet. ”What?”

”As far as I can tell, you're the first girl to survive. All the others over the years have died, tossed away just like you'd been.” He shrugged. ”There are a few other guys turned that I know of, a couple of the security dudes, but not any girls. They don't usually like to leave left-overs.”

”So, that's like, what, the only reason you were stalking me? Because I was an even bigger freak than you?” I paced the room, anger fueling every step.

”Hey, I wasn't stalking you.”

I frowned at him. ”Please. You showed up outside my bedroom window, in the bathroom when I was using it, which is like gross to begin with, and then-,”

”Then, I saved you from killing some poor dude who had the bad sense in wanting to date you.”

I gaped at him.

”And I didn't hear one thank you, about that. Not one.”

”Thank you?” I shrieked. ”You want me to thank you? For what? For showing me what a big freak I am, or for making me leave everything I've ever known. Making me a fugitive with no future whatsoever.

I was shaking with fury, but deep down I sensed something else was happening as well. It wasn't until Trevor's eyes widened and he started to laugh that I realized I didn't have my feet firmly planted on the ground.

My stomach flipped over as I bounced up and down in the air like an un-tethered hot-air balloon. ”Get me down!” I reached for Trevor but all I did was dog paddle comically through the air.

He laughed, again. Actually, he hadn't really stopped laughing. ”Oh my G.o.d.” He snickered. ”Don't do that again. I'll bust my gut.”

”Quit laughing, and help me.” I made another attempt to grab him. But it didn't work. I just bobbed up in the air. My b.u.t.t touched the ceiling and I bounced back down again.

Tears of frustration stung my eyes. I didn't want them to fall. I really didn't need Trevor seeing me cry again. He obviously already thought I was a dork. Crying over it wasn't going to change his mind.

He met my gaze and I saw something in those dark eyes s.h.i.+ft. He stopped laughing. Reaching up, he gripped my hand and pulled me down until my feet were able to touch the rug. He wrapped his arms around me, to keep me there.

”We're going to have to fix it so you stop sticking to the ceilings. It's becoming a very bad habit.”