“The reason I detained you here isn’t to make you feel guilty,” Tristan explained. “And it’s not to show you what you’ve done to me. It’s to explain that your actions have consequences. Sometimes, I wonder if Skinners fully appreciate that.”
“Believe me,” Paige said, “we know plenty about consequences.”
“Can you know how the actions of every Skinner before you have impacted the world in which we live?”
Picking up on the new edge in her voice, Cole said, “I’ve only been doing this for a year or two . . . maybe more.” Images of his time as a Skinner rushed through his mind in a flash, leaving him feeling older than before they’d arrived. “I may not know a lot, but I know we’re not trying to leave anything worse than it was before we got there. It wasn’t even our choice for all of this crap to go public. Paige and I did our best to keep people thinking werewolves and vampires were just hoaxes and perverts trolling the Internet.”
“I know you mean well,” Tristan said as a patient smile eased across her face. “I also know you are trying to do good. That’s why I’ve agreed to help you as much as I have, even when it meant sacrificing a part of myself that I may never regain.” She shifted on the overstuffed cushions, drawing her legs in close. “I’m referring to all Skinner activity. The animals you kill have a place in our world. When too many of one species are lost, another takes its place. If one predator falls, another fills the gap. If no other predators fill the gap, more of the smaller creatures emerge.”
“Yeah, like Chupacabra,” Cole grunted. “I’ve still got the scars from those little bastards. The gargoyles seem to have gone back into hibernation for the winter, though.”
“You killed a Full Blood during the Breaking Moon,” Tristan continued. “Another will rise to take his place, just as one arose to fill the void left by Henry.”
“So what should we do?” Paige asked. “Just let them all go about their business so they can wipe us out?”
“It’s too late for that, I know,” Tristan said. “But you have to know that you cannot continue dealing with each individual fire that is started. You either need to commit yourselves to the larger struggle or step back and let the fires burn.”
Reflexively lowering her voice, Paige told her, “That’s why we’re going to Hungary. The Amriany are about to have the same problems we have here. For all we know, they may have already started.”
“Yes, things are just as bad there as they are here,” Tristan mused. “The Travelers have always been better at keeping things quiet. Why Hungary? Is that just where you intend on meeting the Amriany?”
“I thought Milosh and Nadya were based in the Czech Republic,” Paige said. “But they said they wanted to meet us in Hungary.”
“Do you know why?”
“Not yet,” Cole said, “but you do. Isn’t that right?” Seeing the guarded expression on Tristan’s face, he leaned toward her and ignored the tension he sensed from the armed guard that had remained posted near the door. “Does this have something to do with Chuna?”
Slowly, Tristan nodded.
“Chuna is one of the Mist Born,” Paige said. “That’s what Taylor told us. We don’t even know what that means. So far, a lot of this seems like just a bunch of disconnected pieces.”
“And yet you know well enough to leave the place where it seems you’re needed the most, so you can find the meaning to this particular piece?”
Knowing he was speaking for both of them, Cole said, “There’s really not a lot else for us to do.”
“Sure there is,” Tristan said. “You could keep chopping Half Breeds into pulp like the Army. You could follow the Nymar’s lead and sit in buildings purchased at a significant discount from frightened owners who are only thinking of surviving for one more day or are too enraptured to refuse the pittance they were given. You could even draw yourselves into a heavily armed cult with strongholds in three different cities like your fellow Skinners.”
“You mean the Vigilant?”
Tristan nodded.
Paige kept her voice level and quiet, so as not to further upset the guard, when she asked, “The Vigilant have strongholds in more than one city?”
“Yes,” Tristan replied, looking as if she was fully aware of the bomb she was dropping. “Three. At least, those are the ones I know about. The Vigilant have been trying to capture my sisters much like Jonah Lancroft did. As far as I can tell, it’s for the same reason. They want use of our temples as well as a fresh supply of Memory Water.”
Suddenly, Cole’s head snapped up and he drew in a quick breath.
“I’m sorry, Cole,” Tristan said. “But Memory Water won’t help rid you of the tendrils inside of you. Otherwise I would have offered you some when I helped get that spore out of you.”
Before he could stop himself, he asked, “It kept Jonah Lancroft alive for a couple hundred years, but it won’t help me? Why?” He’d already bared himself, he thought, so the least he could get was an answer to his question.
“Lancroft was a monster,” Tristan said. “Do you even know what’s involved in making Memory Water?”
“No, but it can’t be too bad or you’d never make it at all. Right?”
“We can collect it,” Tristan said. “I won’t get into the particulars, but it’s a process that has become a sacred ritual among my sisterhood. To speed up the ritual involves torturing my kind and wringing the very essence of our soul from the fabric of our bodies. If Memory Water could help you, I would have gladly given you what little I can spare. It restores the physical body to a point in the past when it was more vital. Youth can be granted. Mortal lives, as you already know, can be extended for centuries.” Focusing on Cole, she added, “You may think of it as bringing your body to its default setting.”
There was something undeniably sweet about hearing Tristan put things into geek terms for him.
“But,” she continued, “it only affects you, and that thing inside you isn’t actually a part of you. Memory Water could revitalize your body to a point before that spore was injected, but that doesn’t mean the tendrils would be erased. You’d be revitalized and the tendrils would remain, just like clothes or jewelry or any other foreign thing attached or wrapped around you.”
“Couldn’t we give it a shot?” Paige asked.
“If we had any Memory Water on hand, perhaps,” Tristan replied. “But most of our reserves were plundered by Jonah Lancroft, and the rest have been stolen from us by his followers.”
Cole sat bolt upright. “The Vigilant have attacked you?”
“Not me, personally, and I haven’t heard of any of my sisters that were taken. Lancroft must have passed on the location of our hidden stores, because those were looted within months after the Nymar rose to—” She blinked and looked around at the two Skinners. “Well . . . you know what happened.”
“No need to worry about manners,” Paige said. “A little salt in that wound really doesn’t matter anymore. As far as Cole goes, do you think there might be anything at all the Memory Water could do for him if you could make some changes?”
She shook her head. “It’s not a formula we can tweak. It is what it is. My sisters and I have been hunted by Nymar since they decided to dwell within human bodies. Obviously, we don’t have much cause to find ways to help ease their pain. Not that we wouldn’t if there was a way, but . . .”
“But you’d be dead the moment you got close enough to try,” Cole said. “I get it.”
“We could help your arm, though,” Tristan said to Paige. “Why didn’t you drink the Memory Water I gave you when you were hunting Lancroft before?”
“I needed it for other things,” Paige told her. “Besides, Skinners need to learn from their mistakes, and there’s not a lot to learn by just erasing them and starting clean.” Looking to Cole, she added, “We can deal with our wounds. Just because we’re hurt doesn’t mean we’re . . .” Suddenly, her eyes widened. “ . . . broken. Can Memory Water cure a Half Breed?”