I groan. “I wasn’t worried.” And are you really going to keep doing this?
“Doing what?” He pastes a mock-innocent look on his face.
“Commenting on my thoughts, even when I’m not talking to you.” I groan again and flop back onto the bed.
He grins. “Consider it extra motivation.”
“For what?” I demand.
“I don’t know.” He pretends to study his nails. “Getting me out of your head, maybe?”
“Believe me, I don’t need any extra motivation. The sooner I get you gone, the sooner I never have to see you again.”
I brace myself for his next sarcastic remark, figuring it will be a doozy. But for long seconds, he doesn’t say anything at all. Instead, he pulls a ball out of thin air and starts tossing it up in front of his face and then catching it again.
Once, twice, then again and again. At first, I’m grateful for the silence—and the peace that comes with it. But the longer it goes on, the more antsy I become. Because the only thing worse than knowing everything Hudson is thinking is knowing nothing that he’s thinking. I can’t help but guess he’s plotting to murder me like I’m plotting to murder him right now.
Eventually, though, he turns his attention back to me. “See,” he says with another of those deadpan looks of his, “I told you, you had a mean streak.”
Then he tosses the ball up in the air yet again.
“Yeah, well, I’d rather have a mean streak than an asshole streak,” I tell him.
“Everyone has an asshole streak, Grace.” He looks me straight in the eyes when he says this, and for the first time, it feels sincere. He feels sincere. “The only difference is whether or not they’re honest enough to let you see it. And those who aren’t? Those are the ones you need to watch out for.”
“Why does that feel like a warning?” I wonder aloud.
“Because you’re not some pathetic little human anymore. You’re a gargoyle, and when it comes to how people feel about gargoyles—knowing one, owning one, possessing one—nothing and nobody is quite what they seem.”
“Including you?” I shoot back, even as a shiver works its way down my back at his warning.
“Obviously me,” he agrees, sounding bored and annoyed. “But my point is, I’m not the only one.”
I don’t know how to respond to that, don’t know if he’s just messing with my mind or if there really is some truth to what Hudson is saying. Before I can decide, he steps away from the wall. But instead of coming toward me, he moves farther back into the shadows of the room.
“Here comes one now,” he whispers deep in the recesses of my brain.
“What do you mean?” I ask, just as softly.
He shakes his head, refuses to say anything else.
And it’s not until I turn away, not until the Bloodletter calls my name, that I realize that the ball Hudson tossed up in the air? It never came back down.
34
This Place Isn’t
Big Enough for
the Both of Us
“Grace, are you awake yet?” The Bloodletter’s voice seems farther away than expected.
“I’m awake,” I tell her, pushing myself into a sitting position and leaning back against the pillows. “I’m sorry. Hudson…”
“What about Hudson?” the Bloodletter asks, leaning forward with watchful eyes.
For the first time, I realize that the shadows were hiding bars that are between her and me. Even worse is the realization that I’m on the wrong side of those bars.
I bolt upright then, my gaze searching the shadowy darkness until it collides with Jaxon’s. “What’s going on?” I demand in a voice made shrill with fear. “Why am I in a cage?”
“It’s okay,” he soothes.
“It’s not okay. I’m not some animal in the zoo, Jaxon. Get me out of here. Now.”
I start to reach for the bars, then think better of it, since they’ve got this weird, electric glow to them and I can’t help wondering what that means…not to mention what it will mean for me if I touch them.
“We can’t do that, Grace. Not yet,” the Bloodletter answers.
“Why not?” For the first time, I start to wonder if Hudson’s words were actually true. If he wasn’t just saying those things to mess with me.
“Much as I enjoy messing with you, Grace, I’m not in the habit of issuing warnings for no reason,” Hudson admonishes from the shadows.
“Stop talking to me!” I practically shout back. “Can’t you see I’m in trouble here?”