Glaring into the night, I stalked forward and slammed the door behind him.
“What’s going on?” Emily asked.
I froze at the sound of her voice, cursing myself for my lack of sense.
“Sorry,” I said, turning to face her. “That was Merdon again. He’s got a case of the stalker.”
“What happened?” she asked in concern as she came down the steps.
I made a split-second decision to tell a skeleton version of the truth.
“I had a bad dream and stepped out on the roof to clear my head. I slipped on the snow and fell. Merdon caught me then went all caveman on me. After almost dropping me on the floor, he told me he’s watching me. As if I didn’t already know that. He showed up out of nowhere on breach day and, since then, has been shadowing me whenever I leave the house.”
She cringed.
“I’m really glad he was there to catch you, but I’m equally sorry I let him sleep on the couch. That probably didn’t help.”
I waved away her apology.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” she asked, knowing there’d be no more sleep for me because of the dream.
“No. I’m fine. You go back to bed. I’ll find something quiet to do.”
She yawned, gave my arm a squeeze then shuffled upstairs. The soft click of her door closing told me she’d believed everything.
The shredded remnants of my façade slipped away from me, and I slowly slid to the floor. Thoughts clawed at my brain, making me twitchy and desperate. Without alcohol, there was no muting it.
I cried.
Chapter Three
Hair stuck to the sweat drying on my face as I impassively took in my progress. It’d taken me hours to clean to the level that a germaphobe or someone with OCD would applaud. Every surface in the kitchen gleamed in the morning light. Yet, I felt no sense of pride at what I’d accomplished. I’d done it to keep Emily happy and to focus my thoughts on safely mundane topics such as what to scrub next.
Despite my efforts, a few thoughts had still crept in. Anger at Merdon, who I’d caught glimpses of whenever I’d looked out the window. Bitterness that I was still in this shit world, and without alcohol to boot.
Wiping at my hair with my forearm, I looked around for what to do next.
“Morning,” Emily said in a chipper tone as she jogged down the stairs. “Wow, this is amazing, Hannah. It looks and smells great in here. Were you up all night?”
“Yeah. Figured I might as well use my time wisely.”
“How about I make us some breakfast while you wash up?”
“Sure.”
I didn’t care about breakfast. I didn’t care about being clean. In fact, I cared about very little except the heaviness that made each step more difficult than the last. It felt like my body no longer belonged to me.
Entering my bathroom, I glanced at the shower. I was sweaty and probably smelled, but I struggled to find a reason why I should be concerned. Because a normal person would care, and I needed to think like a normal person. If I behaved like a functioning person, Emily would be happy, and a happy Emily would agree to more parties.
In a state of emotional detachment, I forced myself to strip and went through the motions of washing. Was this how the infected felt? Disconnected from the world around them? Driven by a single, consuming need? While they wanted blood or brains or whatever, I desperately wanted a drink.
My hands shook as I wiped my face. Tears leaked from my eyes. Anger and bitterness surged forward again, the only feelings that managed to penetrate the numbness.
I realized I was staring at my razor and quickly averted my gaze, once again cursing Merdon’s intervention.
The doorbell rang, interrupting my train of thought. Most of the human residents of Tolerance weren’t up and wandering around this early. That meant a fey was at the door. More specifically, a fey with a delivery.
Hurrying from the bathroom, I grabbed whatever clothes were close and dressed. There was no murmur of voices as I went downstairs, which told me whoever had stopped by was already gone.
Emily’s lone presence in the kitchen, along with the box on the counter before her, confirmed that assumption.
“Who was at the door?” I asked.
“Merdon. I know I shouldn’t have taken anything from him, but he said it was payment for letting him sleep on the couch. Plus, look at what’s on top.” She