Enthralled: Paranormal Diversions (Wicked Lovely 5.50)

Yes, but she had been under my command. I gave the order.

Not only that, but I had to take some responsibility for the death of Tori’s mother, too. She’d been killed when part of the ceiling collapsed on her. That collapse began because I’d freed the demi-demon, and I hadn’t asked her about the possible consequences first. So Diane Enright died. Dr. Davidoff died. Others died. And maybe they all deserved it, but that didn’t seem my call to make.

After it happened, I’d started staying up late every night, reading or writing until I was so tired I fell straight to sleep, too exhausted to lie there worrying. That didn’t stop the dreams, though. Dreams endlessly replaying that day, showing me all the ways it could have gone differently. All the ways I could have avoided killing Dr. Davidoff. Avoided feeling as if I’d been responsible for the death of Tori’s mother.

Derek makes me talk about the dreams, pointing out the logical flaws in my alternate scenarios, insisting I’d done what I had to. It should help. It doesn’t, because I’m still convinced there had to be another way.

“So, apparently, my mother is dead and my dad isn’t my dad,” Tori continued. “And the guy I was crushing on? My half brother.” She blinked. “Oh God. Simon.” She looked like she was going to be sick. “That’s just . . . That’s just . . .”

“It’s not that bad,” I hurried on. “Derek says it’d be kind of natural, because you guys share the same genetics, so what you were attracted to wasn’t really Simon but, well . . .”

“Myself? Oh, yeah. That’s better.” She paused. “Derek? When did you discuss this with—? Wait, you said the demi-demon mentioned it? Back at the lab? How long have you known, Chloe?”

“I, uh . . . heard rumors, but it wasn’t until the demi-demon said it was true—”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I, uh . . . I didn’t think it was my place.”

“It’s your place if you’re my friend, which is what I thought.” She glowered at me, and in that glower I saw genuine pain. “My mistake, huh?”

She got up and started to storm off. When I ran after her, she hit me with a knockback that sent me flying into the tree, hard enough that I slid to the ground and sat there, dazed, for a moment before looking up to see her a quarter mile down the road.

I glanced back at the house, checked my pocket for my cell phone, then ran after her.

I really needed to start getting more exercise. Long walks and self-defense lessons weren’t compensating for a lifetime spent opting out of sports because I was always the smallest kid on the team. I could point out that, before embarking on my current career path to Zombie Master General, I’d planned to become a screenwriter-director, which didn’t require an active lifestyle. But then I look around at my comrades-in-genetic-modification: Derek the science whiz, Simon the artist, and Tori the computer geek, all of them disgustingly athletic, meaning I have no excuse. Also meaning that when Tori wanted to leave me in the dust, she did.

Predictably, Tori headed for town, most likely the mall on the outskirts. I was close enough to see the parking lot when my phone barked. Derek’s ringtone. Not my idea—Tori set it up. I figured it wasn’t like Derek would ever hear it, and it is fitting. If he ever finds out, I’ll just pretend I didn’t know how to change it.

Speaking of barking . . .

“Where the hell are you?” he snapped when I answered.

“You’re back? Good. So how was—?”

“You’re not here.”

“Because I’m supposed to be waiting by the gate?”

“You know what I mean. Simon said you went to talk to Tori, but you’re not on the property, so I’m really hoping you’re with her.”

I glanced at Tori’s back, a half mile away. “Kind of.”

“She took off, didn’t she? And you went after her, knowing you aren’t supposed to leave the property unaccompanied.”

“Tori needs—”

“Tori can look after herself.”

“And I can’t?”

A growl. He knew better than to answer. Despite my lack of defensive superpowers, I’d gotten myself—and Tori—out of plenty of scrapes. Sometimes, knowing you don’t have the skills to fight can be a bonus. With Tori, o

verconfidence equals lack of caution and, yes, as Derek would say, common sense.

“I’m just going to talk to her,” I said. “I’ll bring her home—”

“No, you’ll come back. Right now. That’s an order.”