“You? Were wrong?”
“I was an idiot to try to live the way I’ve been living,” he said.
I looked at him sharply. “What?”
He rolled a hand in a lazy gesture. “The boutique. The constant nibbling, never sating myself. The . . .” He shrugged. “All of it.”
I stared hard at him. Then I asked, very quietly, “What did the skinwalker do to you?”
“He reminded me of what I really am.”
“Oh?”
Thomas turned to look at me with calm deep grey eyes. “Yes. It didn’t take him long, once he set about it.”
I felt sick to my stomach. “What happened?”
“He hung me up by my heels,” Thomas said. “And ripped strips of skin off of me. One at a time.”
I shuddered.
“It’s agonizing,” he said. “Not terribly dangerous to one of us. My demon didn’t really have any trouble regenerating the skin—but it did become hungry. Very, very hungry.” His eyes suddenly gleamed paler silver and he looked back at the tigers, which were now restlessly prowling the pit. “He’d taken a female kine to the lair where he had me prisoner. And he fed her to me.”
“Hell’s bells,” I breathed.
Thomas watched the tigers pace. “She was lovely. Sixteen or so? I don’t know, exactly. I didn’t ask for her name.” He spread his hands. “It was a fatal feeding, of course. I don’t think I’ve ever really explained to you exactly what that is like.”
“What is it like?” I asked in a quiet rasp.
“Like becoming light,” he said, his eyes drifting closed. “Like sinking into the warmth of a campfire when you’ve been shivering for hours. Like a hot steak after a day of swimming in cold water. It transforms you, Harry. Makes you feel . . .” His eyes became haunted, hollow. “Whole.”
I shook my head. “Thomas. Jesus.”
“Once she was gone and my body was restored, the skinwalker tortured me again, until I was in the same desperate condition. Then he fed me another doe.” He shrugged. “Rinse and repeat. Perhaps half a dozen times. He gave me young women and then put me in agony again. I was all but chewing out my own innards when he took me to the island. To tell you the truth, I barely remember it.” He smiled. “I remember seeing Molly. But you’ve taught her enough to protect herself, it seems.”
“Thomas,” I said gently.
He smirked. “If you ever get tired of her, I hope you’ll let me know.”
I stared at him, sickened.
“Thomas.”
He looked at me again, still smirking—but he couldn’t hold it. Once again, his eyes looked hollow, touched with despair. He looked away from me. “You don’t get it, Harry.”
“Then talk to me,” I said, urgently. “Thomas, Jesus Christ. This is not you.”
“Yes, it is,” he spat, the words a bladed hiss. “
That’s what it taught me, Harry. At the end of the day, I’m just an empty place that needs to be filled.” He shook his head. “I didn’t want to kill those girls. But I did it. I killed them, over and over, and I loved how it felt. When I think back on the memory of it, it doesn’t make me horrified.” He sneered. “It just makes me hard.”
“Thomas,” I whispered. “Please, man. This isn’t what you want to be. I know you, man. I’ve seen you.”
“You’ve seen who I wanted to be,” he said. “Who I thought I was.” He shook his head and looked around at the people around us. “Play a game with me.”
“What game?”
He nodded toward a pair of young women walking by holding ice-cream cones. “What do you see when you look at them? Your first thought.”
I blinked. I looked. “Uh. Blonde and brunette, too young for me, not bad to look at. I bet the blonde paid too much for those shoes.”
He nodded and pointed at an old couple sitting on a bench. “Them?”
“They’re fighting with each other over something and enjoying it. They’ve been together so long, it’s comfortable for them. Later, they’ll hold hands and laugh over the fight.”
He pursed his lips, and pointed at a mother chivvying a trio of small children of various sizes along the zoo. “Them?”
“She’s got an expensive ring, but she’s here at the zoo alone. Her kids all have matching outfits. Her husband works a lot, and she doesn’t look as good as she used to—look how the shoes are biting into her feet. She’s worried that she’s a trophy wife, or maybe an ex-wife in progress. She’s about to start crying.”
“Uh-huh,” he said. “Can I give you my first thoughts?”
I nodded, frowning at him.
Thomas pointed a finger at the young women. “Food.” He pointed a finger at the old couple. “Food.” He pointed a finger at the mother and her children. “Food.”
I just stared at him.
He rolled his head, inhaling deeply and then exhaling. “Maybe it was all those kills together like that. Maybe he drove me insane with the torment.” He shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I just know that things seem a lot simpler now.”
“What are you trying to tell me?” I asked. “That you’re happy, now?”
“Happy,” he said, scorn ringing lightly in his voice. “I’m . . . not wandering around blind anymore. Not trying desperately to be something that I’m not.” He looked back down at the tigers. “Something I can never be.”
I just stood there, shaking my head.
“Oh, empty night, Harry,” he said, rolling his eyes. “I’m not some kind of ravaging monster. I’m not some kind of psychotic rampaging around the city devouring virgins.” He waved a hand in a casual gesture. “Killing when you feed feels fantastic, but it’s stupid. There are far too many advantages in ensuring that the kine survive. Not only survive, but grow and prosper.” He smiled a bit. “You know, I really think I might have something to offer the world. I never could have exerted any kind of influence on my kin as a moping exile, trying to be human. Maybe this way, I actually can accomplish something. Promote a more responsible standard of relations between humanity and my kind. Who knows?”
I stared at him and said, “Gosh, that’s noble.”
He eyed me.
I hit him with my heaviest sucker punch. “What does Justine think of it?”
He straightened and turned toward me, and there was imminent violence in the set of his body. “What?” he asked. “What did you say to me?”
“You heard me,” I said, without changing posture or rising to the threat.
His hands closed into fists, knuckles popping.
“Still stings, doesn’t it?” I said quietly. “Still burns you when you try to touch her?”
He said nothing.
“And you still remember what it was to hold her. Like you did the night you trashed Madeline at Zero.”
“Jesus Christ, Harry,” he said. He turned to face out, away from the tigers, and his voice was full of weariness. “I don’t know. I just know that it doesn’t hurt so bad all the time anymore.” He was quiet for a long time. Then he said, in a very quiet voice, “I have bad dreams.”
I wanted to put my hand on his shoulder, to give him some support. But some instinct warned me that it wouldn’t be welcomed.
“You took a beating,” I said quietly. “What that thing did to you . . . ? Thomas, it knew exactly how to get to you. How to torment you the most. But it won’t last. You survived. You’ll get past it.”
“And go back to that miserable half life I had?” he whispered.
“Maybe,” I said quietly. “I don’t know.”
He looked at me.
“You’re my brother,” I said. “Nothing will ever change that. I’m here for you.”
“You’re a damn fool,” he said.
“Yeah.”
“It would be easy to use you. Part of me thinks it’s a fantastic idea.”
“I didn’t say you weren’t an asshole. I said you were my brother.”
The bodyguards stirred. Nothing big. They just sort of animated and moved toward the exits.
Thomas grimaced. “Lara thinks I’ve made great progress. She’s . . .” He shrugged. “Proud of me.”