Page 101 of The Gloaming

“Don’t worry, I’m nearby.” She hung up.

Tom glared up and down the hill. The night was brighter than usual; harsh LED streetlights reflecting on the surface of the snow. The surrounding houses were silent, not even a twitch of a curtain to suggest life. Shadows pooled between each building, and he found himself staring into darkness, desperate for some sign of Wyatt to end his paranoia.

Crouching down, he fumbled with the straps of his backpack, remembering the short Damascus blade he always carried – the one he’d promised Erin he’d never leave home without. If it came to a fight, he didn’t stand a chance – but the weight of the weapon in his hands calmed his nerves, and he stowed it up his sleeve, the metal icy against his skin.

Straightening slowly, Tom sensed she’d snuck up on him – that unmistakable feeling of being watched, so much like the way Erin described her extra senses. She was standing on the other side of the street; her face hidden in shadow. He shivered.

“Thomas.” Her whisper carried on the frigid air. She lifted one pale hand, beckoning him closer, her movements liquid-smooth in a way that put him on edge.

“It – it’s Tomal, but I prefer Tom.”

Pulling his backpack on, he crossed the road. Her dark hair whipped in the breeze, obscuring her features. Even though he’d seen her earlier in the evening, this was different. Alone with her, every instinct screamed at him to run. Instead, he forced himself forward. After all, he wasn’tsupposedto feel good around vamps.

She kept her distance, and Tom was grateful for that small mercy.

“Tom, then.” He saw her teeth flash white in the dark. “Tommy. Do you trust me?”

“Not in the slightest,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “But if you’re willing to help me put an end to Murray, I—” He swallowed. “Well, I’m up for that.”

Her laugh echoed in the empty street. “Oh Tommy, you’re just delightful when you’re angry! All that hatred, all that lovely pain… I could drink it up.” She swayed closer, alien grace mixed with childlike excitement. “And now you’d work with me? After all that self-righteous preaching to poor little Erin?”

Tom’s mind raced as he tried to keep his expression neutral. Even with his limited exposure to Wyatt, this felt wrong. She was usually more… measured. This one was all show, no substance.

“What the hell do you know about my anger? Did Erin tell you that?”

She tapped the side of her nose twice. “I know a lot of things.”

“Did Murray—” The words caught in his throat. Wyatt was many things, but she wasn’t this… theatrical. “Maggie. He killed her, didn’t he? That’s why you think I’ll help?”

She drifted into the lamplight, squinting into the brightness. “Ah…”

“Did he?” Tom insisted.

“Sweet little Margaret?” She clapped her hands together. “Oh, her screams were music… The way she begged—” She twirled in the snow, her face lifted to the sky. “Divine!”

Tom backed away despite himself. “No. No, not you.” He shook his head. “Why?”

She grew still, watching him with a sly look in her eye. “I’m not interested in explaining myself to you, human.” Her body seemed to relax all at once. “But then, come closer. Maybe you’ll persuade me.”

Tom didn’t move a muscle. She lifted her chin, and the light fell full onto her face – confirming what he’d half-known already. This… thing. It wasn’t Izzie Misery.

“You’re not her,” he whispered. He was an idiot for letting her trick him, even for a few minutes. He should have fucking known better.

She prowled closer, all semblance of humanity gone. “Does it matter? Aren’t we all the spawn of Satan?‘Kill us all!’That’s what you think, isn’t it?”

“It matters,” he breathed. “Who are you? Why did you do that to Maggie?”

The vamp pulled a face and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. There’s a bigger picture you know – you can’t get so wrapped up in the details.” She shrugged. “Now it’syourturn to play your part.”

“What?”

“There’s a role for everyone, Tommy boy – even me. Although this city isn’t what we were promised… Still. Erin’s little accident was fun. Until I had to give her back, anyway.” She pouted, sulking like a child. Tom couldn’t keep the disgust from his face.

“And nowyou. You’ll make a wonderful catalyst. After you die, that’ll be it.” She snapped her fingers, her high, trilling voice no longer sounding anything like Isabel.

“A catalyst for what?” Tom’s heart pounded as adrenaline flooded his body. This was it. Fight or flight. Either it was his moment to die or the moment he proved himself. He just didn’t have a fucking clue which it was going to be. But if he wanted a chance, he needed to keep her talking.

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