The hunt over, Adam picked up a can of gasoline and began to pour it over the bodies. They’d burn them to make sure they were dead and to keep curious humans from stumbling across a pile of corpses. Sadie and Conrad, hand in hand, wandered a little farther into the woods. Meredith was heading over to offer Adam her help when she saw Jack lead Nick farther downhill, holding tightly to his arm as if Nick might try to get away.
There was something furtive about them, and Meredith changed course to follow. She walked quietly, keeping her shield up as Jack had taught her. Breathe. Count. Hide your aura. They didn’t glance back at her, but she was careful to keep in the shelter of the trees anyway. Her mouth dry and her heart pounding, she squeezed her hands anxiously into fists. Surely, now that she’d been changed, her palms shouldn’t sweat.
When they were far enough away from the caves that even a vampire shouldn’t have been able to eavesdrop, Jack and Nick stopped and began to talk, their voices low and their heads together. Edging to the other side of a nearby oak tree, her hands on its rough bark, Meredith stopped, too, and held her breath, listening hard.
She couldn’t hear what they were saying at first—their voices were too low. She gritted her teeth, frustrated. Did she dare risk getting closer?
But then Jack’s voice rose, furious. “What do you mean, you haven’t found her?” he said. His face reddened, and with a quick, violent movement, he shoved Nick against a tree. Lanky Nick ducked back, twisting his body away from his leader.
“I t-tried,” he said, his voice shaking. “I’m not giving up.”
“She’s got to be near here,” Jack said, his tone dark. He leaned into Nick’s face, spitting the words at him. “Try harder.”
Letting go of Nick, Jack turned away. Then, efficiently and viciously, he snatched a tree branch from the ground beside them and, in one smooth, quick movement, jammed it through Nick’s chest. Nick screamed, an agonized wail of pain, and lurched away, clawing at the branch.
Meredith couldn’t hold back her gasp of horror. It’ll heal, she reminded herself, clapping her hand over her mouth.
Too late. Jack swung around, looking up the hill. “Meredith?” he called.
No. Her body tensed to run, but he knew she was there.
Meredith took a deep breath, smoothed her hair, and stepped out from behind the tree. “Hi,” she said, careful to keep her face cheerful and her voice light and unconcerned. “Um, we need your lighter. To burn the bodies.”
Behind Jack, Nick strained to pull the branch from his chest, giving a painful-sounding groan as it slowly slid out. “Nick?” Meredith asked, trying to sound confused. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Nick breathed, his eyes glassy. He wiped the sweat and tears from his face. The wound in his chest was already closing, but his shirt was stained with blood, and his voice hitched as if he was barely holding back a sob.
“Nick and I had a disagreement. I overreacted,” Jack said slowly. He was looking at Meredith with a speculative expression, and her stomach turned over nervously.
Digging in his pocket, he walked toward her. His eyes were fixed on her, curiously blank, and Meredith steeled herself, trying not to flinch backward.
When he was a few steps away, he stopped and held out a small silver object. His lighter. “Here you go.” When Meredith looked up at him, he smiled.
She forced her body to relax, and smiled back at him. Maybe he had bought her excuse. She would have to be more careful now, though, in case he was suspicious. That had been too close.
And who was the “she” Jack had been searching for? Meredith’s heart sped up, and she took a steadying breath, willing her pulse back to normal.
Jack had a secret. No matter what it took, she would find out what it was.
Matt cleared his throat and looked up at the clock on the wall of the ER waiting room, shuffling his feet with impatience.
The air seemed suffused with a combination of boredom and despair. People sat huddled together, pressing ice or bandages to themselves, or filling out paperwork with exhausted expressions on their faces. In the chair closest to Matt, a tired-looking older man held a cup of coffee with both hands as he leaned forward tensely, his gaze fixed on the door of one of the examination rooms. Matt looked away, shifting from one foot to the other, embarrassed by the naked fear in the man’s eyes.
Still, that man would be helped here. They all would. That’s what Jasmine did—she helped people. In that way, she’d always been one of them. They fought monsters to protect the innocent, and Jasmine fixed the innocent.
It was such an unequivocally good thing to do—no shades of gray, no occasionally evil vampire allies, no icy Guardians—that Matt’s heart swelled with love for her. Jasmine, with her sweet, soft lips and her shining intelligent eyes, was good all the way through. And she loved him, too, despite everything he had seen and done.