Page 75 of Starve
“No?”I repeat. “You could, though! They’re all afraid of you!”
“Fine.” She looks at me, her eyes slightly narrowed and a strange look in them. “Icouldhelp him. But I won’t.”
“But you like him!”
She shrugs her shoulders daintily, while adrenaline pumps through my body.
“Agatha please!” I stumble down the last two steps, not knowing what I can do, but willing to try anything. Panic surges through me, and I get close enough to her that every warning signal in my brain fires off, like I’m standing in the face of a polar bear.“Please!”
“No.”
“Why not?!” I nearly scream, getting so close to Agatha that I can feel her body heat and smell the old blood on her dress. “He’s—” I break off when she reaches up, bloody fingers moving to wipe at my cheek before showing me her wet nail.
“Crying for a monster who’s eaten so many of your kind over the years,” she remarks, studying my tears as if there’s something interesting in them. “That doesn’t seem very human of you, little bird. Shouldn’t you be glad about his death? That’s one less creature to prey on hikers or the desperate humans who mistakenly show up here in our mountains.” Her voice takes on that echoing quality once more, but I don’t flinch from her.
“I don’t care. It’sCairo.”
She studies her nail again before brushing away the tear, then Agatha’s eyes flick up to mine, unnaturally dark in the pale light. “You help him, then.”
The words take me by surprise, and I stare at her in absolute shock, like she’s just grown a second head. “What?”
“It’s Cairo,”she repeats, in a voice that’s the perfect mimicry of mine, down to the intonation of his name. “So why don’tyouhelp him?”
Shaking my head, I don’t look away from her, still confused and wondering if Agatha’s gone mad. “I can’t,” I say slowly.“How would I even begin to? I can’t find him, and Tyler would rip me apart the moment I showed my face. I’m just a human.”
Her grin tells me that’s the right thing to say. Agatha reaches out again, cupping my chin in one hand. “That’s always the problem, isn’t it? You’re just a human. Even if you could save him, what then? You’rejust a human.” I hate it when she mimics my voice. “You can’t live in his world when you’rejust a human. But what if you…weren’t?”
My mouth opens, then closes, though no sound has escaped. I stare at her eyes, digest her words, and try to figure out how to respond to them. “I don’t understand,” I admit finally. “He told me the only way to become what you are is to be starving. And to be, you know…” I trail off awkwardly, unsure why the word bothers me so much.
“A cannibal.” Agatha says without flinching. “Which is the crux of the curse. That you’re sodesperateto do the unthinkable. That you’re willing to consume one of your kind, just to keep living.”
“To be starving,” I add. “To be so starved and desperate that you have no other choice. But I’m not starving.” But I am desperate.
“Aren’t you?” Agatha slips away, striding back to the stairs where she dropped the burden she carried here earlier. As I watch, she kneels on the concrete and shoves her hand into the man’s chest, being much more careful than she was with the cured men as she slowly extricates both her hand and the cold, dead heart she’s cradling in her nails.
My heart races in my chest as I stare at her, both horrified and darkly fascinated. Time seems to slow as she comes back to me, and the wind picks up ominously around us as Agatha stands in front of me, taller and more imposing than before. I’ve never seen her look monstrous, and even though nothing has changed, somehoweverythinghas.
“You brought a human body here?” I ask, staring down at the heart between us that she’s holding up in her hand, fingers curled around it as coagulating blood slowly drips down her wrist. “Why?”
She doesn’t reply, and the answer suddenly hits me in the face as my stomach plummets to the ground. Immediately I jerk my eyes up to meet hers, eyes wide and incredulous.
“Because you knew,” I accuse, looking between the body and her. It’s too convenient. Tooeasyfor her to just have a human corpse lying around, unless this was her plan.
She doesn’t deny it. Agatha tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowed, as the wind blows her black hair around her face, her dress ruffling with it as well.
“Youknew,”I say again. “Why are you doing this? Cairo said he wouldn’t force me, or even ask me. He said?—”
“But I’m not Cairo.” Agatha’s voice is cold, and less friendly than before. “I see the way he looks at you. Hislittle bird.”She so easily mimics his tone and I jerk back from it. “You’re right. He’d never ask. He’d never take you from the sad state of your life, never do to you what so many of the others do to humans. What Tyler did to that broken thing he has with him. I’m certainly not like Tyler, but I am also not Cairo.” She crowds closer, not letting me step out of her space. “You were right before. I do like him, though I think he is soft in some ways. I’m the one who saved him all those years ago, at the bottom of a cliff with his legs broken and blood filling his lungs, slowly drowning him.” Her eyes flicker with something other than the moonlight.
“I’m not starving,” I whisper, like that makes any difference, and I glance down at the heart before back up at her. The idea of biting into it is revolting at best.
She jumps on my words eagerly. “Aren’t you?” Agatha asks again, feigning surprise. “If you aren’tstarved, then why do you cling to the creature who gives you unfiltered affection? Why is ityou’re willing to drop everything for him, and for her? You don’t have your phone, so there must be no one for you to call for help. Every time I’ve seen you, all the times I’ve watched you, you’ve been alone. Your mother’s child who she’d rather forget. The girl who drove scissors into her hand when the world became too much?—”
“Stop it.” I can’t handle the truth of her words, though I have no idea how she knows so much about me. Tears roll down my face as I gaze at her, eyes wide and desperate. “Stop?—”
“Youaredesperate, Fern,” she coos, pressing herself closer. “And the reason this hurts so badly is because you know that if Cairo really does die, you willstarve.”
Her words echo with a kind of finality that shakes me, and an honesty I can’t deny. My feet feel rooted to the ground, and when I gaze up at Agatha’s face, there’s a hint of triumph in her gaze, even though I haven’t said or done anything.
