same instant, I’ve tasted these moments in their teeth.
Which did he get from their necks? Which from the depths of my belly?
My head spun with the power of his sedative, but I lapped at his fangs until my jaw ached. I swallowed all the memories he’d stolen. Kept drinking until their tone changed, deepened. Aged with Mister Pérouse’s years. I gulped his love for Arianne, as a mother or wife I couldn’t tell; slurped the certainty that Théo—his own cousin!—was kept close for enmity more than friendship; savored all the small vipers in Doctor Jeffries’ schoolroom, now knowing they were offspring he had made not fathered. Just like Harley, me and the girls, they all came from poor families, single mothers—humans my master deigned unworthy of raising children. I drank it all in, this and more, until I was too drowsy to move. Until all I could feel was a weight like lead in my guts.
I did as my master bid for several weeks, though I would’ve rebelled given the chance. If Mister Pérouse could leach the children’s blood and jus from my stomach, I realized, they could do the same. I could rescue their memories, I knew it.
I could return them. Re-turn them.
So I kissed Mister Pérouse, devoured him whenever he came close enough to bite. Let him take my interest as affection, as enthusiasm, as a gesture of reconciliation; let him think I was grateful for being his brood mare. I didn’t care, so long as his mouth was on mine and my family’s history trickling down my throat.
In those moments, I closed my eyes and imagined the sensation of Beth and Miah’s tiny bites as they drank down forgotten stories. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t picture Harley joining in.
That image of my sisters sustained me for five months. I tried reading to pass the time but the books cluttering Mister Pérouse’s apartments were failed distractions; their plots like snowflakes melting in my fevered mind. I hardly remembered a word. Always I thought of the girls as the days turned to weeks, refined my plan until the flutter of kicks in my womb drove me to act. I needed fresh air if this third baby was to survive; I needed to move. More than anything, I needed to see if I was right.
When Théo delivered my food tray, as he had morning after morning, I stopped him before he went to bed.
Lifting my hand from his sleeve as though it were infected, he sneered at my belly. “You think to keep this one, non?”
“She’ll survive,” I agreed, positive my child was a girl. I straightened into every inch of my height, a head taller than Théo. Looking down, I met his gaze and held it. A shadow fell across his face. He tilted his bald head, stared up at me with magpie eyes. If I’d flinched then, the moment would’ve been broken, my opportunity lost. But though I spoke quickly, my voice was steady. “I can barely breathe in here—” Carefully timed pause. “You don’t know what it’s like to be trapped, Théo.”
He didn’t blink. A slight frown furrowed his forehead. Of course he knew what it was to be held unwillingly. He’d been here three times longer than I’d lived. Was that enough to poison his mind? Enough to convince him to let me out? Maybe not, but I was willing to risk it. Even those whose hearts have stopped beating must feel, sometimes. Loneliness isn’t governed by the warmth in our veins.
“I just need to see my family,” I said. “I’ll come right back—I just want to kiss them goodnight.”
Théo snorted. “Sensiblerie. Stupid girl, what do I care for family?”
Silently, I wrapped my arms around myself and hunched. Tried to make myself look small and vulnerable. Again, Théo blew air from his lips; half laugh, half derision. I didn’t respond, but sank to the edge of Mister Pérouse’s bed as his cousin left the room. The door closed with a hollow clunk.
Floorboards creaked as he paused on the other side. The key slid in, scraped out.
There was no sound of bolts shifting home.
I waited a heartbeat, two; then sprang to my feet, crept to the door. Pressing my ear to the wood, I could hear the diminishing scuff of Théo’s boots as he moved down the corridor. Away from me.
My pulse was so loud in my ears I couldn’t tell if he’d actually gone or if it was a trick. Taking deep