him with Gabriel.”
Laughter.
“And he killed all Annalise’s family. Her brothers were Hunters. He ripped them apart.”
“Yeah, I heard that too. He ate their hearts.”
I don’t know why I’m still here listening to this rubbish and I’m about to leave when I change my mind and walk round the corner slowly so they see me, so that they know I’ve heard everything.
They all go quiet and I say to them, “As far as I know Annalise is still alive. And for the record I’ve only killed one of her brothers. My father killed another one. The third one’s still alive, but don’t worry—if I get the chance I’ll gladly rip him to pieces. Annalise shot my father. Because of her he’s dead. And, yes, he was a murdering Black Witch but he was also a great man and you are so stupid that you will never have a chance of understanding one molecule of his being. And as for me . . . mind your own fucking business.” I turn to go then turn back and say, “I’m not scum but, yes, I’m a fucking blood-sucking, heart-eating half-Black so I suggest you keep out of my way.”
* * *
I’m back in the cell. I’ve been sitting here for a few hours. I keep going over what I said to those trainees, wishing I hadn’t said anything or wishing I’d said it better. I go over it all again and again and again.
A silhouette appears in the cell doorway.
“Ah, found you,” Arran says, and sits down next to me. He’s been in the camp since I was shot and I see him most days but we hardly ever have time alone together.
“Hi.”
“You’ve been frightening some of the trainees, I hear.”
Oh, so that’s it. They’ve been talking about me. I say, “I had an argument with them, but you’d have been proud of me, Arran; I didn’t hit them. I was incredibly calm.”
“No wonder they’re so scared.”
I smile despite myself.
“They said you threatened to kill them.”
“What?”
“Celia didn’t think it was true. She said you’d either do it or you wouldn’t. I said I’d find out your side of the story. Want to tell me what happened?”
“Not really.” Then I add, “They were saying stupid things about me. So I said stupid things to them. I didn’t threaten to kill them, but I did tell them to keep out of my way.”
“Ah. A sort of veiled threat.”
Maybe they saw it as that. “I won’t kill them, Arran. However stupid they are.”
“Good. Not that I thought you would.”
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Of course.”
We sit for a while and talk about what he’s been doing, which is learning about healing. He ends by saying, “Van taught me a lot. I’ve still got loads to learn but she really helped me. Anyway, at the moment there’s no one left to heal. They’re either alive and well, or dead.” He looks at me. “I’m not sure if I should count that as a success or failure.”
“When they’re all dead, that’s failure,” I say. But then I think about it and add, “No, even then it’s not a failure. You do what you can, Arran.”
We sit for a while and then he waves his arms at the canvas walls, “All this is for some big attack, I guess.”
So Celia hasn’t told him. And I’m going to kill more people and one of them will be Jessica, his sister, my half-sister.
“Arran . . .”
“Yeah.”
“Don’t hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“I mean whatever I do. Please. I know you can’t understand me but please . . .” And I look at him and he looks back at me the same way he always has done. Meeting my gaze so honestly and openly. He says, “You’re my brother. My kid brother. I can’t hate you. Ever.”
I shuffle closer to him and he hugs me and keeps hold of me.
“There is something I was going to tell you”—his voice is really quiet and a bit shaky—“I mean I want to tell you and it’s good but . . .”
I move back to look at his face and he’s smiling a little but also not meeting my gaze.
I can’t think of anything other than he’s found a girl. Arran has never really had a girlfriend. Or at least not when I was at home with him. And I realize I’ve no idea whether he’s had girlfriends or boyfriends or anyone since I left home.
“So?” I ask, leaning forward and peering at his face. I