Cleaver dozes off on my bed as I bustle around the dorm, packing. Erin’s already packed, of course, and staying in Luiza’s house in the village for the night. Their hunt is taking place in Cuba. I envy her; she’s going to be done with her hunt in a few days, and then she’ll lounge on a white-sand beach for the rest of Christmas break. Meanwhile, I’ll be enduring the bitter, wet cold of Oregon in a cheap tent.
And she says nepotism had nothing to do with it.
I’m only mildly surprised by the knock on my door when it happens. “Come in,” I call. The door’s unlocked. When I glance up, I’m ready to see Piers sauntering in, but it’s Owen instead.
“Owen!” I say in surprise. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah! Just thought I’d swing by before you leave.” He holds up a Styrofoam cup from the dining hall. “Brought you some coffee.”
“Thanks.” I smile at him. My hands are full of weapons, so I nod over to my desk. “Set it there, would you?”
He obliges and then settles down on my bed next to Cleaver, who snuggles up next to him before falling back to sleep. “Need any help?”
I glance over at him. While it’s true he’s been getting stronger, right now he looks pale and thin. Even his hair looks lank and dull. His transformation will be coming up any day now, from the looks of it.
“Nah. I’ve gotta organize everything just how I want it.” I start sorting my weapons by size. “You’re not packing for your hunt?”
He shrugs. “My hunt’s close by,” he says, watching me. “Break coincides with my … y’know.”
I nod. “That must make things difficult.”
“Yeah. I don’t want to be out in the middle of nowhere when it happens.” He shifts, bringing his knees up to his chest. He looks so small. “Piers hasn’t told me much about what you guys are doing.”
“Well, we’ve got a train to Bucharest tomorrow morning,” I tell him, grabbing my checklist. “We’ve got a flight from there to Portland … two layovers; one in Paris, one in Salt Lake City. We’re getting a smaller flight to Salem, renting a car there, and then driving out to Crater Lake.”
Owen whistles. “Sounds like a lot.”
“Yeah. Doesn’t help that Crater Lake is huge.” I set aside the checklist and briefly open the folder I’m using to keep my tickets, making sure they’re still there. “There’s a campground out there where we’ll check in with a civilian, though. Someone who can see monsters, but isn’t a hunter.”
Owen nods and scratches Cleaver’s belly. He watches me pack for a while. “You and Piers getting along okay?”
“Yeah, just fine.” I close my suitcase and zip it up, mark some things off my checklist before I go to sit down next to Owen. I pick up the coffee he brought me and give it a good whiff. “No clue how we’ll get along when we’re forced to be in a small tent together for a few weeks, but we’ll figure it out.” I grin at him, but he doesn’t smile back. He’s got his cheek pressed against his knees, looking at me sideways.
“Go easy on him, okay?” he says quietly.
“What do you mean?”
He looks at Cleaver instead of me and stretches his legs out in front of him. He’s wearing a short-sleeved shirt today and I can see more of the scars. They aren’t just on his face, they cover his arms, too. “Bennett told me you guys saw him in the library the other night. Piers is … fragile right now, you know? I feel like you could break him without even trying.”
The guilt is back. I want to break him, yells the beast in its cage, clawing for revenge.
“I don’t want Piers to have to go through that. Being broken, I mean. I know what that feels like.” His voice cracks.
I set my coffee down again and reach for his hand. “Owen. You’re not broken.”
He turns to me, smiling sadly. “Look at me, Avery. Of course I am. You think I don’t know that every time I … change … I come out of it looking worse? Looking weaker, and skinnier, and sicker? I feel bad afterwards, too. I hate being cooped up in the menagerie, but that night in the forest taught me that it’s not my feelings I should be worried about. I’m a real danger to people. To you. To Bennett.”
“That was my fault,” I say, but he shakes his head.
“It wasn’t. Besides, this isn’t about me. This is about Piers, remember? Don’t break him. He won’t be able to take it.”
He stands up, and I stand, too. I grab his other hand and tug him closer.
“You’re so down on yourself, but you’re just as handsome as ever.” I reach up and trace one of his scars, a small one running along the
bottom of his chin. I stand on my tiptoes and tip my face up. I want to kiss him, to kiss away all his fears, his insecurities.
He puts his fingertips on my lips. “Avery, don’t,” he says quietly.