haven’t gotten around to putting that together yet, but it’s becoming crystal clear to me.”
I can see from the look in Jaxon’s eyes that I’m getting through to him, that he’s going back over every interaction we’ve had the last two days and trying to see what was me and what was Hudson. Not that I blame him—I’ve just done the very same thing…and I really, really don’t like what I’ve found.
“I’m done, Jaxon. I’m done, Uncle Finn. I’m not waking up covered in someone else’s blood ever again. Or in the middle of a casting circle, missing with ripped clothes. And I am not giving a murderer free range over my body or my head for one more second than I have to.”
My chest is tight and my hands are shaking, but my mind is clear, and I know—I know—that I’m doing the right thing.
“Either you talk to me and help me figure out what I can do, or I swear, I’m going to walk back to that stack of books over there. I’m going to read every single one of them until I figure out how to turn myself back into a gargoyle. And this time, I’m going to stay that way until Hudson can no longer hurt anyone.”
Jaxon opens his mouth to speak, but I shake my head. I’m not done yet.
“And if that means staying a gargoyle forever, then that is what I’ll do. It’s not what I want to do,” I tell them as they all start to protest. “But it’s what I will do, because no one—no one—is going to use me as a pawn ever again.”
It’s why I nearly died when I got here and why Jaxon and Flint nearly died, too. If they had just told me the truth when I first arrived, I wouldn’t have had to spend my first four days at Katmere bumbling around trying to figure things out as people tried to kill me. I wouldn’t have trusted the wrong people.
And maybe, just maybe I wouldn’t have ended up in those tunnels with Lia, and Jaxon wouldn’t have nearly died, and we wouldn’t be right here, right now, with Hudson taking some kind of psychotic vacation in my goddamn body.
Just the thought makes me sick, makes me want to cry. Makes me want to scream.
I want him gone, want him out of me right the hell now.
But if that’s not a possibility, I need to know how to keep myself and the people around me safe from him, no matter what.
I look from Jaxon to Macy to my uncle to Amka, only to find them all staring back at me with a grudging respect in their eyes. Which means it’s time to ask the question burning a hole in my chest. “Do I need to turn into a gargoyle again, or is there a way to block him out?”
Suddenly, I feel something flutter inside that feels an awful lot like a scream—of rage or agony or terror, I don’t know which. But it’s definitely a scream… And it’s definitely not coming from me.
28
Sometimes Girls
Just Wanna
Take Charge
I barely have time to figure out what that means, if it means anything, when Jaxon says, “I’m taking you to the Bloodletter.”
“The Bloodletter?” I repeat, because it’s not a name I’ve ever heard before. And also because it’s not one that sounds particularly…inviting. I mean, in a world full of paranormals who don’t bat an eye at blood loss or near-death encounters, what kind of monster do you have to be to be called the Bloodletter?
It’s freaky as hell.
“The Bloodletter?” Uncle Finn repeats with the same skepticism I’m feeling. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“No,” Jaxon answers. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it’s a terrible fucking idea. But so is Grace turning back into a gargoyle for who knows how long.” He looks at me, and his face is full of worry and love and a touch of fear that he’s trying really hard not to let me see. “I don’t know if the Bloodletter can help figure out a way to quarantine Hudson in your head. But I do know that if anyone can, it’s her.”
“Who is she?” I ask, because I feel like I at least need to have some clue of what I’m walking into if I do this.
“She’s an Ancient,” Jaxon tells me. “A vampire who has been alive longer than almost anything on the planet. And she…lives…in an ice cave it doesn’t take that long