The horrible traitor

chapter 2

Of course, that wasn't the only undead perk. The ability to heal instantly, fly, and mesmerize people didn't suck, either.

"Do you know how lovely you look?" he asked, his voice deepening in timber. Hints of glowing green appeared in his dark brown eyes, a visual cue of his appreciation.

I leaned in to whisper my reply. "Tell me later, when everyone's gone."

His laugh was low and promising. "That I will, Kitten."

At least she still had her sister to hang out with, even if he was currently on a date in the city with some guy he’d met online. And she had Clara’s best friend, Erin, even if he made her nervous. And she had Leonie.

That was plenty of friends. Too many, really, considering that she was likely to disappear one of these days, leaving them all behind.

Thinking that way was how she’d wound up not asking anyone for a ride to the party that night, even though it meant walking the whole way, through the shallow edge of the woods, past farms and old tobacco barns, and then into the forest.

It was one of those early fall nights when wood smoke was in the air, along with the sweet richness of kicked-up leaf mold, and everything felt possible. She was wearing a new green sweater, her favorite brown boots, and a pair of cheap green enamel hoops. Her loose red curls still had a hint of summer gold, and when she’d looked in the mirror to smear on a little bit of tinted ChapStick before she walked out the door, she actually thought she looked pretty good.

Liz was in charge of the playlist, broadcasting from her phone through the speakers in her vintage Fiat, choosing dance music so loud it made the trees shiver. Martin Silver was chatting up Lourdes and Namiya at the same time, clearly hoping for a best-friend sandwich that was never, ever, ever going to happen. keatin was laughing in a half circle of girls. Stephen, in his paint-spattered shirt, was sitting on his truck with the headlights on, drinking Franklin’s dad’s moonshine from a flask, too busy nursing some private sorrow to care whether the stuff would make him go blind. Erin was sitting over with his sister (well, kind of his sister), Carter, the quarterback, on a log near the glass coffin. They were laughing, which made Woody want to go over there and laugh with them, except that she also wanted to get up and dance, and she also wanted to run back home.

“Woody,” someone said, and she turned to see Robbie Delmonico. The smile froze on her face.

“I haven’t seen you around. You look nice.” He seemed resentful about it.

“Thanks.” Robbie had to know she’d been avoiding him, which made her feel like an awful person, but ever since they’d made out at a party, he’d followed her around as though he was heartbroken, and that was even worse. She hadn’t dumped him or anything like that; he’d never even asked her out. He just stared at her miserably and asked weird, leading questions, such as “What are you doing after school?” And when she told him, “Nothing, just hanging out,” he never suggested anything else, never even proposed he might like to come over.

It was because of kissing boys like Robbie Delmonico that people believed Woody would kiss anyone.

It really had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Thanks,” she said again, slightly more loudly, nodding. She began to turn away.

“Your sweater’s new, right?” And he gave her that sad smile that seemed to say that he knew he was nice for noticing and that he knew nice guys finished last.

The funny thing was that he hadn’t seemed particularly interested in her before she lunged at him. It was as though, by putting her lips to his—and, okay, allowing a certain amount of handsiness—she’d transformed herself into some kind of cruel goddess of love.

“It is new,” she told him, nodding again. Around him, she felt as coldhearted as he clearly thought she was. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” he said, letting the word linger.

And then, at the critical moment, the moment when she meant to just walk away, guilt overtook her and she said the one thing she knew she shouldn’t say, the thing for which she would kick herself over and over again throughout the night. “Maybe we’ll run into each other later.”

Occasionally, Billy would pull over, her whistle in hand, and let Laura out of the crate to run drills. This was only possible, however, when she could find a stretch of unpopulated land. Billy did not want too many people to get a look at the bargest, whose bizarre appearance was simply too memorable. Some members of the Family had actually argued that Laura should not receive the bargest curse for this very reason, but Billy’s father, who was in charge of training the potentials, had insisted that Laura was the most intelligent and athletic of all the current crop. Billy hated her father—of course—but in this case she had to admit he’d been right. Laura was an excellent specimen. And it was easy enough to exercise her at night, when Billy could also keep an eye out for any signs of the local werewolf pack.

By the fifth day of their scouting trip, Billy had run out of the ostrich steaks that the bargest required for protein. She used her laptop to find a pet store that specialized in large animals: horses, mostly, but also goats, sheep, and very large dogs. After a moment’s consideration, Billy opted to leave Laura in her second crate at the apartment complex. Billy didn’t think Laura would forget her training and decide to hunt and kill a horse for fun, but the bargest was hungry. No need to risk it.

So Billy followed her phone’s GPS to Freddy’s Feed and Supplies in an area called Altadena. The store itself was dusty and understaffed, which was just fine with Billy. Small and insignificant meant no one would bother with video cameras, and understaffed meant Billy wouldn’t have to deal with salespeople who didn’t understand her limited English.

She had brought a couple of five-gallon pails from a hardware store, and went straight to the freezer section, filling both pails with frozen ostrich steaks. Then she lugged them to the counter herself, sneezing from the dust. There was one customer ahead of her at the register, and while Billy waited, her eyes wandered to a nearby rack of expensive, durable dog toys. It would never have occurred to Billy to “play” with the bargest, but she could see the value in keeping Laura’s instincts honed by having her track and destroy a ball. It was the same reason greyhounds chased practice rabbits.