you don’t like them. That’s genocide, in case you don’t recognize the definition.”
Hudson glares at me. “I told you before, I have done a lot of shitty things in my life, and I take responsibility for every single one of them. But I do not take responsibility for that. I stamped out made vampires and others because they were my father’s allies, he was building an army, not simply because they were made vampires. They had pledged their allegiance to him and were plotting to wipe out everyone in their way to finally bring paranormals out of the shadows. You have no idea how close we were to a Third Great War. I couldn’t let that happen.
“So if you want to come at me for murder, go ahead. I made a horrible decision to stop an even more horrible outcome. But genocide is somebody else’s sin, and I am not going to take responsibility for it. Don’t be like my brother. Don’t judge me until you know both sides of the story.”
His words resonate inside of me—not just the ring of truthfulness I could hear when he was talking, but also the vehemence and the indignation and the rage that he can’t even begin to hide.
Which leaves me…I don’t know where. I mean, I don’t believe for one second that Jaxon would kill his brother without being sure that it was the only option. At the same time, though, Hudson has lived in my head for days, and I’m beginning to recognize when he’s full of shit and when he’s telling the truth.
This latest diatribe of his smacks of the truth.
What I’m supposed to do with this version of the truth, I don’t know. And I don’t have a clue how I’m supposed to reconcile it with Jaxon’s version. Either way, I’m not sure this changes my feelings on if Hudson can be trusted to come back with his powers.
He pauses, then shakes his head with a pissed-off laugh. “Why am I not surprised?” He stands up to his full height, hands on hips, gaze holding mine in its punishing depth. “I know how much you love to lump everyone and everything into just two groups, Grace. Good versus evil. But don’t you think it’s about time you grew up?”
He shakes his head and leans over another pile I’d looked at earlier. I’m about to argue that I am grown up, thank you very much, and also that I was starting to think maybe Hudson was trying to protect humans with his killing spree—which no one has once considered—when he lets out a celebratory whoop. “I found one!” he shouts, pointing to a bone the size of his arm.
“That’s fantastic!” I rush around to look at the bone myself and confirm it’s whole and small enough that we can carry it out. “Let’s go round up the others.”
I pick up the bone and take only a couple of steps toward Jaxon and Mekhi before a pile of bones directly behind us starts to rustle.
“What’s that?” I ask, whirling around as my imagination runs wild. Honestly, at this point I wouldn’t be surprised if an army of angry pixies flew out of the center of a pile of bones and tried to set us on fire.
“I don’t know,” Hudson answers. “Stay near me.”
I don’t bother to point out how ridiculous that statement is. One glance at his face spells out just how clearly he gets it and how frustrated he is by it.
As we head to the front, a second bone pile starts to shudder, bones clacking together in an almost songlike rhythm. An eerie-as-fuck song, mind you, but a song nonetheless.
Hudson and I look at each other, eyebrows raised, then start moving faster as we head to the front of the cavern. And when a third pile of bones starts to rumble, he urges, “We need to move!”
But before we take more than a couple of steps, a giant leg bone falls from the ceiling and crashes into the spot right beside us.
It shatters as soon as it hits the ground in a thundering explosion, bone shards flying like mortar shells in all directions. One slices me right beneath my left eye, and blood starts pouring down my face.
“Fuck!” Flint yells from across the cavern. “A dragon must have just died! I think the Boneyard is calling the bones home.”
“You think that’s what’s going on?” Xavier shouts as he grabs Macy’s hand and they make a mad dash for the