Suddenly, there’s a blur of movement at Fabian’s feet—and blood ices over in my veins as I realize what it is.
Chapter Six
Gertrude grabs Fabian’s hind paw.
Puck. How did we forget about her?
The rot is instant. Within an eyeblink, Fabian’s leg looks as if it’s been infected for weeks.
He licks the poor leg, then begins to howl. The gangrene spreads and spreads, until his howling turns to whimpers… and ceases.
No. Can’t be. Please—
Fabian collapses in a rotten heap.
Dylan stares at Gertrude’s hand, then glares unblinkingly at what’s left of Fabian. Finally, her eyes narrow on Gertrude’s throat, and a terrifying expression appears on her previously blank face.
“You want to be next?” Gertrude asks hoarsely.
Dylan lunges.
Ariel tries to catch her, but it’s too late.
Dylan’s hands are already squeezing Gertrude’s throat.
In a moment, she’ll be a rotting pile, like Fabian.
Chapter Seven
Except Dylan’s hands don’t rot. Her knuckles whiten as she squeezes Gertrude’s throat, and that’s it.
“Must be a side effect of her resurrected state,” Ariel mutters in awe.
That makes some macabre sense. Gangrene happens when tissues die, but Dylan’s tissues have been there, done that.
Realizing that her powers are useless, Gertrude flails. Dylan gives her a vicious jerk, smashing the back of her head into the roof. Gertrude’s body goes limp. Dylan bashes her head into the roof again and again. Eventually, the gangrene giver’s skull breaks.
I look away as slurping sounds begin.
Catching Valerian’s gaze, I debate if I want him to blot out my senses.
“Serves Gertrude right,” he says coldly. “Don’t feel bad for her.”
Seeing my miserable expression, he envelops me in a tight hug, and we stand like that while a montage of my interactions with Fabian plays in my mind. I haven’t known the werewolf for long, but we’ve been through so much together that I’ve grown to think of him as a friend.
If not for his selfless bravery, I might not be alive today.
“Did he have any family?” I whisper, my voice catching as I lean deeper into the hug.
Valerian’s lips brush my ear. “Don’t worry about them. The Councils will take care of everything.”
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I pull away.
I have to check on my friends.
Ariel must be on the same wavelength. She’s already kneeling next to Itzel. Seeing my concerned expression, she gives me a thumbs up. “Felix is just out as well,” she says. “And Rowan will live. Same goes for the giant.”
A Colton-sized weight lifts off my shoulders, even as my gaze finds the pile that was Fabian, and dark anger surges through me.
I thought I hated Phobetor before, but I didn’t understand the subtleties of hate until now. It’s heart-wrenching to see Dylan standing over Fabian’s remains, looking completely lost. She must’ve felt something for him, something that transcended her resurrection. And now she’s lost him.
I look at Valerian, and my heart squeezes painfully in my chest.
I could’ve lost him too.
I still might.
“I’ll take Dylan to Earth and get her settled,” Valerian says. “You focus on your mother.”
My mom. Of course. I almost—
A flying car lands on the roof.
“If that’s more Overtaken, I give up,” I mutter.
Fortunately, it’s not.
Virgil, a vampire I’ve met before, comes out of the car, along with a score of other Enforcers.
Vampires don’t need to sleep, so I doubt they make good targets for Phobetor.
“These Overtaken need to be taken back to the New York Council,” Valerian tells Virgil.
“And Felix needs medical care,” I say.
Valerian nods. “I’ll take them all to Earth.”
“What about him?” Virgil looks questioningly at Chester, who’s still standing there, staring at some alternate reality brought about by Valerian’s powers.
“That’s one of the reasons I’m coming with you,” Valerian says.
I bite my lip, staring at him. “I want to be with you.” It’s illogical, irrational, but I can’t help the feeling that if he leaves, I might never see him again.
“What about your mom?” he asks. “Besides, I just got a message. There’s a pandemic on Earth. A virus. And though it’s not as deadly as the one we’ve just been cured from, I know how you feel about germs, and there isn’t a treatment so far, so…”
I stare at him in horror. “Did Icelus cause this pandemic too?”
“No evidence of that,” he says. “Might just be a coincidence—but it benefits Collywobbles nevertheless. With no treatment in sight and billions of lives at risk, there’ll be plenty of nightmares for him to feast on.”
Dylan looks up from her grisly meal. Her eyes are glimmering with pain and a fraction of her old intelligence. “A virus?”
Valerian tilts his head. “If you’re interested, I’ll make sure you have whatever you need to develop a treatment or a vaccine.”
Dylan wipes what must be bits of Gertrude’s brain from her mouth with a sleeve. “I think I’d better focus on my impulse control and dietary requirements first and foremost.”
Smart. It wouldn’t help anyone if she accidentally ate the brain of a colleague.