Page 130 of The Howl
“You’re shaking.”
“Yeah. I’m angry.” I pulled out of Mom’s arms. “Adira took my car.”
Mom glanced at Adira then back at me.
“She said it was damaged and that she wanted to fix it. I didn’t think you’d mind since we plan to be out of town for a few days.”
“A few days?”
I closed my eyes and took a calming breath. Losing my cool now wouldn’t help me.
When I opened my eyes again, Mom was watching me with concern.
“Do I have any choice?” I asked. “At all? I’m given what to wear. Told how to behave. Now, I’m being forced to feed. Forced when you promised you would never force me.”
“Sweetie, I’m not going to force you. I’m taking you to New York to show you how I feed in the real world. Feeding in Uttira is like fishing in a barrel. I can understand why you find it repulsive.”
“No, you don’t understand. I’m repulsed by what we do to the humans we feed from. Not during, but after. We ruin their lives, Mom. Erasing their memories doesn’t make it better. Go watch any of your playthings from this past week and see what they’re doing now.
“They’ll be moving around like normal, but something will be off. And if you’re brave enough to ask them, they’ll tell you they don’t know what’s wrong. That they feel like they’re missing something. Something important. Something big. Something life-changing. They’ll be missing you, Mom. You. And you aren’t even thinking of them. It doesn’t go away. For the rest of their lives, they’ll be craving you, unhappy in any relationship because it’s not you. And they won’t even understand why.
“I don’t want to be a part of that. I don’t want to make slaves of humans.”
Mom gently squeezed my arms.
“Baby, it’s not like that. We bring humans more pleasure than they can possibly achieve on their own. It’s a magical experience. One they would give anything to repeat. Of course, they’re going to miss that and want it back.”
“Human addicts miss cocaine, too. That doesn’t mean it’s good for them.”
She cupped my face.
“Baby, listen to me. We are not a drug. We are gifts waiting to be given to those who are worthy. I promise you’ll see that in New York.”
I stared at her as my anger and resentment shriveled into a ball of numb acceptance.
“Fine. Take me, then. Show me how to feed and watch my self-loathing deepen. I hate what I am, and I hate what you want me to do. And if it’s a choice between hurting others or hurting myself, I’d rather starve.”
I pulled from her hands and started to leave the kitchen.
“Where are you going?” Adira asked.
I turned back to look at her. She hadn’t moved during my conversation with my mother.
“My room. Or am I not allowed that small freedom anymore?”
“Of course you are,” Mom said. She looked at Adira. “Bring her car back or find her another one while hers is being repaired. She’s not a prisoner.”
I left them both, no longer caring about the car. Adira had proven her point. She controlled me. Mom might not see it yet, but she would eventually. And, it would probably be right after Adira had manipulated her into forcing me to feed.
Closing my door behind me, I paced my room and paused to look at myself in the mirror. If only Adira hadn’t been the first one in the kitchen. Her presence and the removal of my car had doomed any chance of a rational exchange with my mom. One where I would have had the chance to ask about the odd reflections I’d glimpsed or ask if there were other races I could safely feed from.
The murmur of voices in the hall drew me to my door.
“Every time I listen to you, I get more push back from her. I’m done. Return the car or I will find it myself. I have nothing better to do with my evening than wander Uttira looking for it. Do we understand each other?”
“I understand you very well, Nicolette,” Adira said. “Try not to forget that I’m the reason you’re here.”
The intercom clicked, and Mrs. Quill’s voice rang out, asking Adira to come to the study immediately.
