“–Oh, I’d hardly call it smothering—”
“–but I really, really need to sleep well if I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing.” I smile patiently at him. “You wouldn’t want someone to make your job harder for you, would you?”
He sighs heavily. “I suppose not.” He stands up and grabs at the straw again, sucking down more coffee with a pensive expression. After a few moments, he turns back to me. “You’re quite sure? Your dreams have been quite interesting since I’ve been with you, haven’t they?”
“That’s one way of putting it, I guess.” I frown. “More … terrifying and stressful.”
He heaves another huge sigh. “Well, if I’ve been so much trouble for you, then I suppose I’ll leave you be.” He takes one more swig of coffee. He must have finished it already, because the straw starts making a gurgling sound. “They were stressful?” he asks. “Really?”
“Dieter,” I sigh, starting to get annoyed, and he holds up his tiny hands.
“Yes, yes, I understand! I quite understand!” He swipes his hat off his head and gives me a low bow. “Well then thank you, young lady, for being such a good host.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Then this is good bye!” He gives me a wink, smiles once more, and then disappears with a pop, leaving only his coffee cup with the straw sticking out as any indication that he was ever here.
“That was weird,” I mutter to myself, and then turn to everyone else at the table. I let everyone else carry the conversation while I just watch. I’m finally at peace with all the boys, and I can hardly believe it. Owen’s actually laughing, and so is Sawyer.
I sigh and lean on Owen’s shoulder as he absentmindedly wraps an arm around me and keeps talking, telling a story about Bennett’s parents.
Helsing’s alive. I’m in a good place with the boys. The alp is gone. It seems like things are finally settling down, and I can just focus on school instead of worrying about all this extra nonsense.
I thought they were the ones distracting me, but I think the opposite was true all along. I thought I could do this all on my own, but it turns out, I’m nothing without them. I need them—just like they, in turn, need me.
This is evident from the looks on their faces as I look around.
Piers reappears in the doorway to the dining hall and approaches our table. We all look up at him, scooting to make room—but he doesn’t make a move to sit down. In fact, he looks pale and stricken. His face is ashen and his eyes are wide and staring. He looks almost like he’s seen a ghost.
“Piers?” I ask worriedly.
“Piers?” Owen echoes. “Is your dad okay?”
Piers looks down at his hands, holding them up before him. They’re completely red. They’re covered in blood.
I feel my heart hammer in my chest. We all go silent as we stare at him, dumbfounded. Even people from surrounding tables have turned to look and are all staring with open mouths.
He lifts his gaze up and looks at us. When he speaks, his voice is hollow but shaking.
“My father …” he says, his eyes finally landing on mine. They’re vacant and empty. “He’s dead.”
Silence.
It’s so loud it’s deafening. My ears ring from the pressure of it as I stare at the blood dripping from Piers’ hands.
And then the screaming starts.
People are leaping from their seats in a panic, and I can’t blame them. I jump up and grab Piers.
“Where did you last see him?” I demand. “Piers! Piers, answer me!”
“Infirmary,” he mumbles in a daze. His eyes go back to his hands. The blood is already starting to dry on them. I look helplessly at Owen, Bennett, and Sawyer, who gaze just as helplessly back. None of us know what to do.
I turn and run out of the dining hall, knocking over chairs and benches and pushing people out of my way. People are following, but others have already fled the dining hall. I hear shrieks and screams as I run out, and I skid to a halt.
There, just out of sight of the dining hall’s windows, is Mason Dagher’s body, lying in a pool of its own blood.
I’m shaking. My eyes are drawn to the corpse. I just saw this man. I just heard him speak to Piers. He had been standing just a few feet from here in his leather armor with a gash on his brow. The gash is bandaged now, and he’s in a hospital gown, but blood has seeped out of the wound, staining his clothes red. His eyes are open and staring, his face frozen in an expression of horror.