Page 233 of Caelum

This massacre would be chalked up as some kind of occult attack, and it would be in the news for a week or two before being replaced with some stupid shit a royal did or some celebrity’s coke addiction. That was how human society worked.

With the scent of charring flesh filling our nostrils, we ducked out of the alley and back toward the main street. As the scent grew stronger, Eve began to gag, and I couldn’t blame her. The smell was unique and all the more repulsive for it.

By the time we hustled her into the limo, she’d buried her face in Samuel’s arm and was gently weeping. It didn’t take a mind reader to know her sorrow was for the innocents who’d died tonight.

The journey to our accommodation was quiet and somber after that. Whatever we’d expected in the first hour on British soil, it wasn’t to walk face first into a Ghoul attack. And it sure as hell hadn’t involved Eve taking control and killing three Ghouls while we just hung around and watched.

As we drove down a narrow, cobbled street, I wasn’t the only one who breathed a sigh of relief to be at our destination.

Not having brought anything with us save for a handful of things we didn’t want Caelum to toss in the trash, we needed to go shopping, so there was no need to wait on getting our luggage out of the trunk. Dragging Eve out of the limo while Sam gave the driver a tip and helped him ‘forget’ our stopping nearby Ender’s Greasy Spoon—a Vampire’s ability to mesmerize came in damn handy at times like these—we found ourselves on a street that belonged in some cutesy British rom-com.

The cobbles were old, but the houses were short and looked like expensive cottages. They were painted white, had bright colored doors and low roofs, and this particular street seemed to have an explosion of plants and potted trees decorating the sidewalks.

“It’s a mews cottage,” Sam explained as he headed toward the door to our place. He wiggled the key in his hand at Eve and, handing it to her, said, “The driver gave it to me—he works for the company who looks after this place for us.”

She stared up at him and whispered, “It’s so cute.”

His lips twitched. “I’m glad you think so, sweetheart.” He rubbed her back and murmured, “Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed. You need some rest. What you did—” His smile made an appearance this time, but it was tight and taut with worry. “It took a lot of energy.” I knew how hard those words were to form because, fuck, what else could he say?

Eve averted her attention to the door and stuck the key in the lock while we shot each other looks, glances that said we’d be discussing this shit out of her earshot later.

The place was small and cramped for eight of us, but for three or four people, it was more than ample. The hall opened up into a lounge and kitchen/dining area. There was a large L-seater sofa in front of a big screen TV. The kitchen was mostly silver, from its metal cabinets to the fridge and oven. Shit like the kettle and toaster were the only bright spots of color in the space, and they were a green so bright it hurt my eyes.

Dre, Frazer, Reed, and Stefan sank onto the sofa, while Eren, Sam, and I peered around the place on the hunt for the stairs, which happened to be next to the kitchen. As I followed Eren and Sam, my brother turned back to me and said, “Go and talk with the others. We’ll get her settled.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t particularly happy about being dismissed. Eve needed her Chosen, and though she was depending on Eren and Sam for shit that she should be relying on us all for, I figured now wasn’t the time to get into it.

So, I stayed quiet, even though it burned me to do so, and decided thatfalling into this discussion was priority enough to turn on my heel and head to the fridge.

Though I empathized with Eve about the stench of burning flesh, I was used to it. We all were. So, hitting up the fridge to see if it had been stocked up might have seemed cruel, but it was just the way of it. Tonight wasn’t our first Ghoul attack, nor would it be our last.

More’s the pity.

The second the rest of the Pack realized I had my head stuck in the fridge, they got to their feet and sauntered over to the counter, which separated the kitchen from the lounge and acted as the table. It had high counter stools that they slouched on, watching me haul shit out of the thankfully full fridge.

I scowled at their eager faces and grumbled, “If you think I’m feeding you, you’re fucking stupid.”

They grumbled back but made their own sandwiches from the stuff I put on the counter, and we were quiet as we chowed down. We’d last eaten on the boat, so we were fucking starving anyway, but I thought we’d all noticed that we were eating more now that Eve had worked her wiles on us.

Halfway through sandwich number three, I mumbled, “You think she’s dangerous?”

The four words sank into the atmosphere like bullets into flesh. They probably caused as much pain as those bullets would too. The fear was hitting us all, and trepidation had us lowering our sandwiches as we stopped stuffing our faces to contemplate exactly what was going on with our female.

Reed rubbed a hand through his hair then mused, “Do you know of any Ghouls who are mated?”

His question resonated. “No. Not as far as I’m aware. They don’t mate, do they?”

“How would we know?” Frazer countered. “The whole point is that they don’t get to be around others of their kind, so they have no chance of becoming anything other than Ghoul.”

Dre shook his head. “That’s BS. Not every child like us turns Ghoul.”

“No, just most of them.”

We shared a grimace because the statistics were pretty shit. Without Caelum, without people like us around, and forced to depend upon the human meds that exacerbated our symptoms, there was little to no hope of a child not turning Ghoul.

Before Caelum, it had been a sixty-thirty chance. The sixty being in our favor. But now? The tides had turned, and the trouble was, the humanswere overpopulated. They kept on reproducing, creating a glut for the scourge to feast upon.

The sandwich churned in my belly.

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