I scowled at him. “I don’t need affection.”
“We all need affection,” he said leaning back and cocking his head at me. “And you’re starved for it. Do you have any friends besides The Greek and me? What about at the school. Are there any guys who get close to you, open up, want to be your friend and pat you on the head?”
I scowled at him, but he didn’t seem to be trying to insult me. It was hard to tell with Armand. “Not really although everyone is really respectful almost. I guess Orion is watching out for me, making certain that no one treats me badly.”
“Also keeping them from getting too close to you?”
“No. He doesn’t even see me very often. I only run into him once every few days, and of course I’m a boy, not someone he can hold hands with or… Anyway, what were you asking?”
“Do you get attention from any other boys?”
What about the strange conversation with Mal? “One guy who never really bothered me before got all close and personal the other day. For a second, I thought my cover was blown, but he just wanted to remind me that there are other Butchers.”
“Did he touch you?”
I shrugged. “Maybe he put his hand on my shoulder.”
“What was it like?” Armand asked, leaning close.
“Weird.”
“Did it feel tingly and magical?”
I cocked my head at him. “This conversation is weirder. Have you ever touched someone and felt tingly and magical?”
“No,” he answered easily.
“Have you ever been in love?”
He shook his head. “No. I’ve only been out of love.”
“What does that mean?”
He smiled. “It means that I didn’t want what I should have had. You should get back to school before they lock you out. That would be awkward. You’d have to spend the night in the cage.”
“Sometimes it’s safer inside the cage than out of it, unless there’s a wolf in there with you.”
“True,” he said with his peculiar crooked smile.
I left soon after that, somehow feeling a little bit better about my parents. That Armand hurt from their deaths helped it hurt a little bit less for me. I’d have to make him something comforting. He had a lot of hurt.
Chapter 29
The Butcher
I found Tancetta in the shadows, watching, waiting, like I watched and waited for him. He had patterns of behavior that were easy to track once I became accustomed to his ways.
He fell beneath a wave of zombies, and I went in. I’d been waiting for this opportunity. He showed remarkable capability as a Butcher, considering he’d never trained successfully.
I joined the fray, shooting spikes through decomposing zombie brains while I kicked with my boots, getting them off Tancetta.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him up then turned back to the creatures. They seemed more intent, upset than usual. Perhaps because it was nearing All Hallow’s Eve, the beginning of darkness.
“I didn’t need you,” Tancetta gasped.
I grunted as I decapitated a creature, careful not to get brains on my coat. “Returning the favor.”
Tancetta kicked and stabbed, his knife a blade with the Tancetta crest on it, from his father no doubt. “I heard that you’re seeing my sister,” he said, glaring at me with his eyes, eyes so unlike his sister’s soft sweet gaze in spite of the similar color.
“From who?”
His scowl deepened. “You made out with her in public. A lot of people notice when Orion Daughtry starts kissing a girl in a museum with a Butcher display.”
I would have smiled at him if I weren’t holding back three zombies. “She told me that she went there for the sole purpose of making out with someone. It would be rude to turn her down.”
“My sister wouldn’t ever say that.”
I slashed through three of them and took out the knees of two struggling to gnaw off Sebastian’s face.
“I don’t suppose she’d ever make out with me in public, either. She’s very sweet.”
“Sweet?” He scowled at me, his gaze suspicious before his eyes widened and he twisted away from the lunge of a large zombie.
“Sweet if slightly exhausting. How could you leave her with no one to feed on?”
He blanched, and probably not from the zombie drooling on his cheek. “Don’t talk about my sister like she’s a vampire.”
“She’s a Baker,” I said, stepping away from the zombies that were so eager to eat Tancetta. “Control your energy. You’re giving them too much contact. In and out. No. Tighter. Don’t hold your knife like that. Low. Don’t eviscerate a zombie. You’re wasting your energy.” I shook my head as he struggled, glaring at me before he reluctantly followed my instructions.
He focused and I nodded as he finally moved in rhythm, down, up, around, slashing through necks with his excellent knife until he stood, breathing heavily in the circle of decomposing corpses, the hunger sharp in his eyes.
I smiled and threw him a croissant. He caught it without dropping my gaze. He bit, chewed, swallowed, and that was the end of that croissant. I threw him another, and another, until a half dozen baked goods later, the hunger faded from his eyes and his glare became more personal.
“I don’t want you touching my sister,” he growled, his focus on me, his opponent that he had the false confidence he could destroy.
“Who do you want touching her? The last time we talked, you seemed less upset about it.”
He snarled and lunged, sweeping his knife where my body had been a moment before. I moved outside of his swing and grabbed his hand, stabbing it with a spike that made him release the knife, blood dripping from his hand as he stared at me, blinking in shock. I’d never stabbed him before. Of course not. I only stabbed my Boys.
“I like your knife,” I said, hefting the blade while he held his hand, still surprised at the blood, the pain.
“Give it back.”
“After we talk.”
“You’re not going to drug me this time after you use your bait to lure me out?”
“Olivia isn’t my bait. She’s had a thing for you ever since you punched me last January. She thinks you’re a romantic rebel, fighting against the man. I can’t blame her. Living under her mother’s careful guidance hasn’t been easy on her. She isn’t entirely satisfied with her expectations.”
He swallowed. “You didn’t send her? Why would I believe you?”
I shrugged. “I’m not actually a liar. I resent lying to your sister. I didn’t tell her that her dearest brother was living on the North side with a bunch of renegade Butchers, or that her parents were slaughtered by the most vicious werewolf attack I’ve ever seen. She’s not ready for that, not with her energy reserves so entirely depleted.”
“You’re giving her your energy, why?” His jaw clenched and unclenched, an impressive show of dominance.
“I’m The Butcher. She fell under my jurisdiction.”
He shook his head. “You’re using her to get to me.”
I raised my eyebrows, surprised. “You think that I need her to get to you? You’re right here. If I wanted to crush you, that’s what you’d be. I don’t throw away Butchers any more than I needlessly slaughter any creature. You think that I’m here to talk about your sister, but I’m not. You abandoned her when her need was greatest. I’m not going to pretend I care what you think as far as she is concerned. What I want to talk about is your parent’s killer. What was your dad involved in before he was slaughtered?”
His eyes widened before he shook his head, stubbornly. He seemed so young, so inexperienced. He had the physical strength of a Butcher, but lacked the years of training, the buildup of understanding.
“You think that someone killed him on purpose, murdered both of them?”
I spoke clearly, carefully, like I was talking to a werewolf. “Their deaths were overdone. It was as though someone who wasn’t a werewolf wanted to make it look like the attack was done by one.”
“Werewolves killed my parents, Werewolves, that you should be wiping out.” His voice rose and his eyes had an impressive fervent expression.
“Prove it.”
That made him hesitate. “Prove it? I saw their bodies.”
“Have you seen a lot of werewolf inflicted deaths? I have. So many. I have pictures in my car. You can compare the typical werewolf mauling with what happened to your parents, and tell me what you think. You don’t know anything about werewolves, do you? To create a werewolf, there is a lengthy process of biting and blood sharing as well as a few other specific body fluid exchanges, which is one reason you should never kiss a werewolf, but the change doesn’t come until All Hallow’s Eve. That’s when it begins, that’s when the wolves run. You’ve made them angry. I’m going to lose some Butchers this winter due to their fury. They’ll be replacing their ranks without being selective about the process. Who we let live is intentional. What you’ve been doing has been a waste of energy as well as destructive. The person who is leading you has made certain that we are made vulnerable at a time when we can least afford to be.”
His face was pale. Very pale. “Then why haven’t you crushed me? Why don’t you track down Tony and lecture him instead of me? He was one of your Boys when I never made the rank.”
I shook my head. “Crushing a few Butchers while the underlying problem spreads isn’t effective long term. I’ll accept you as a Butcher. Tony as well. What does your shadow leader give you that you crave? Freedom? Independence? A sense of autonomy and pride? How can you get that in a way which is less destructive?”
He looked around, the dark night seeming peaceful and dead.
“You want me now that you can see my potential?”
“You grew into your Butcher heritage. That’s all I waited for. You were an incredibly obnoxious punk. Always questioning me, demanding answers you weren’t capable of understanding, incapable of connecting with the others, defensive, angry, blaming everyone else for your own weakness…” I shook my head. “Your sister is stronger than you were then. Should I allow her to join Butcher ranks, fight zombies? Maybe that’s what I should have done with you, let you get killed quickly or become permanently maimed. That would be one way of dealing with insolent puppies.”
He exhaled, glaring at me. “I’ll never join you. You’re everything I hate.”
I cocked my head. “The darkness is growing. It will be all we can do to hold it back. You won’t have time to cause trouble. You’ll be too busy taking the place of the werewolves you destroyed.” I turned to leave then stopped, remembering his knife. I hefted it before I threw it, a soft enough throw that he didn’t have trouble catching it in front of his face.
His shocked expression soothed me slightly. Dealing with Tancetta had never been pleasant, at least not the male version.
“I almost forgot to return it. If I were you, I’d work on building your arsenal. I hope you have some place very safe to bury yourself until daylight on those nights when the North Side is entirely overrun. Be cautious. Never let your guard down.”
He sneered at me, clutching the knife in his massive fist. “Never let your guard down, Orion. Everything that’s going wrong, my parent’s deaths, it’s your fault for letting the werewolves run free in your city.”
I sighed. “You’re right about it being my responsibility. Is that the same as fault? Responsibility weighs you down so heavily you wish there was a fault, a crack that you could escape through. Me, I don’t have any faults, so it must be responsibility.”
“Is that it? You’re so perfect that you don’t even need to ask me who the shadow leader is?” His low voice was a little less irritating than his whine used to be, and yet…
“You don’t know,” I answered simply. “Even if you think you know, you’re wrong. He tells you that I’m the problem. You agree because it suits you. Try to think for yourself, Sebastian. It’s difficult at first, but after some time it can be rather enlightening. Why are your parents dead? Who profits from that? I certainly don’t. I had to hold your sobbing sister in the cemetery the other day, my strength not enough to take away her pain. When I find whoever caused their deaths, all those senseless murders you’ve been causing will look like nothing.”
He stared at me, speechless for once. I turned and left, disappearing into shadows before I lost my patience. He was too stupid. I couldn’t blame him. He’d had too long a period of transition. He was doing fairly well considering.
What more could I do to reach him? I’d planted ideas, seeds that would grow as he compared his fearless leader’s words with the outcomes. He would see firsthand the fruit of his labors. It would change him. Hopefully take off the edge of stupid that otherwise would get him and a lot of other people killed.
I only had to hope that he would understand before it was too late.
Chapter 30
The Baker
Back at Calder, I focused on my studies, making my rounds of classes without any extracurriculars to distract me. I was distracted enough by Orion. At dinner, I’d sit at the corner of a table and watch Orion furtively across the room. If he caught my eye, he’d nod and smile before he went back to focusing on his dinner, or talking to whoever had come up to him.
I loved watching him with people. He’d listen, his eyes direct, calm, in control while the kid would complain about someone cutting up all his underwear, or what to do about someone’s sore throat in choir. He had answers for all of them. I heard his low voice calming someone down, assuring him that he’d get to the bottom of it, and then he’d look at someone.
All he had to do was look at you to get your attention. He’d look at one of the boys from their club, the Butchers, and the guy would stand and leave, to take care of the problem some way.
Francis, tall, dark-haired stood up when Orion looked at him. Before he left he winked at me before he put a hand on the first year’s shoulder, the one whose underwear had been mercilessly destroyed.
Orion followed his gaze, and for a moment everyone else disappeared as he smiled, but then he turned his head, and went back to eating.
I blinked back the rest of the world into focus and felt fairly stupid. Nothing new there.
I was walking through the halls back to my room when someone dropped their arm over my shoulder.
For a moment I thought it was him, Orion, but he felt wrong. I shrank down while I stared at the red-head, Mal whose smile looked sickly and strained.
“Yo,” I said, shifting to subtly get the weight of him off of me. He was heavy for how skinny he looked.
“Sebastian,” he said, taking my books in his free hand, and leaning even more weight on me. “You study too much. I’ve heard from the teachers. It seems that you’ve been doing an extraordinary job this year. You seem like a completely different person.”
I froze as his green eyes narrowed, the gaze pure malevolence.
“Would you get off? As far as I can tell, no one has missed the old me.” I ducked away from him and snatching back my books.
He laughed—an eerie sound. Mal didn’t laugh—he sneered and oozed contempt.
“That’s right. You seem to get along much better with Orion this year. How often do you go to his room? Twice a week?”
I scowled at him. “No. Not that it’s any business of yours what Orion does, or is it? Is he your boyfriend, Mal, or do you just wish he were? I don’t notice anyone here talking about girls.”
He sneered. “We have other things to occupy us. I heard a rumor that one of the students has been getting up and baking in the middle of the night. Do you have any idea who that could be?”
I blinked at him. “Baking? Maybe they find it therapeutic. What is with this place and the looking down on anything that seems a little bit odd? What’s wrong with baking or gardening, or any other hobby?” I edged away from him, glaring at him over the books I held to my chest.
He studied me, unblinking. “I’ve also heard that Olivia has been asking about you.”
“Y
ou gossip way too much. What kind of crazy rumors are these? Mal, maybe you should see a therapist.”
His smile sharpened. “I think that you protest too much. I know she asked about you, because she asked me. I don’t listen to gossip, I saw Orion walking away from the kitchen in the early hours of the morning with a tray of scones.” He took two steps closer to me so he could lurk over me like a shadow. “Olivia deserves better than you. She deserves a real man, a Butcher. Stay away from her.”
He turned and stalked off, a ball of seething threat. I finally exhaled when he was out of sight then turned and walked to my room, step after slow step.
One thing was true. I was definitely not man enough for Olivia.
Chapter 31
The Butcher
Soon enough, All Hallow’s Eve was upon us. As I was standing in front of the boy’s choir, dressed in white and blue robes, I saw in my periphery a nervous kid, clearly bursting with something to tell me.
I turned and walked over to hear what he had to say.
“Your brother says that he needs to talk to you.”
I straightened and forced my face to remain impassive. “Interesting. Where?”
“Herb garden. I’m sorry to interrupt you, Orion.”
I smiled. “Don’t worry about it.” I turned to the choir, directing the boy who always took over when I had other pressing matters to attend to then headed to the garden, my pulse pounding in my veins with every step.
I paused as I saw him, hovering over the precious plant, Violetta’s plant, Everlast. He could destroy it with one careless sweep of his paw.
“It’s hers. Be careful with it.”
He turned to me, his eyes glowing yellow, the effects of the season bearing weight on him. He wouldn’t be very coherent at this stage.
“The school,” he said, gesturing at the building behind me.
I nodded slowly. “Calder. That’s right. What about it?”
He frowned like it should be obvious. “Someone knows she’s a Baker, one of your own.”
“Do you know who?”
Butcher, Baker, Vampire Slayer: A Retelling of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night Page 24