The Frenzy Series (Book 2): Frantic (9 page)

“Not all of it,” I mumbled sheepishly, looking down at my shoes. I felt like I could eat all of it, but thought better of it. Someone would definitely notice a missing cow or two from the small herd the Colony had. Ford had already taken enough chickens to get his hind end kicked out of this place. No need to stir the pot.

“Thanks, Ford. I’ll go back to Roman’s now.”

He nodded, easing his grip on the knife. “If you can hold it down, let me know.”

“How’d you know I was having trouble eating?”

“I’m your brother.”

I smiled. “And I’m still your sister.”

He laughed. “Always will be.”

I hoped he was right. On an unrelated note, sunlight was a real bitch. I decided I needed to only walk around at night, because this was for the birds. I shielded my eyes and ran back to Roman’s house as fast as I could go. On the porch stood Roman and Tage with their arms crossed over their chests.

“Where have you been?” Roman demanded.

I wanted to tell him that I’d eaten and so far my stomach wasn’t forcing the food out of my body. That was a call for celebration all on its own, but something—or someone—was missing. “Where is Dara?”

My eyes narrowed and I sniffed the air. She wasn’t there. She wasn’t inside. I couldn’t hear her.

“Where is she?” Tage looked away pointedly, toward town.

Roman just stared at me like he didn’t owe me an explanation. Molten fire coursed through my veins. “She better not be sniffing around Saul,” I growled, clenching my fists.

Roman was in front of me in a split second. “She is assisting the carpenters in the forest. They need wood. She isn’t making a play for your human pet.”

“He is
not
a pet.”

“But he
is
human.
You
are not.”

It was like a knife to the chest. “I know that.”

He shook his head. “But I don’t think you’ve accepted it.”

I didn’t, although my body
did
feel different. My senses were on overload all the time, but I didn’t feel like I was a new person. I was still me. My personality, the worries I had before changing, they were the same.

Pushing past Roman, I made my way up the steps and walked past Tage. “I ate. Just so you know.”

Roman grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, his warm breath fanning my cheek. “Who did you drain?” His fingers dug painfully into my skin.

“I…I didn’t drain anyone! I ate a cow.”

“You ate a
cow
?”

“Yeah. A dead one.”

“Its blood?”

“Nope. Its meat.”

Tage huffed out a laugh. “You ate a dead cow? In a field, or…?”

I nodded as much as Roman’s death grip would allow. “Ford was slaughtering a cow and I ate part of it. It was delicious.” I sighed in relief. “It’s been over half an hour and I haven’t puked, so…”

“What the hell?” Roman breathed.

“Exactly.”

“How did you happen to find the cow? You just happened to come upon your brother while strolling about the Colony?” Roman asked.

“No,” I replied indignantly. “I smelled it from the basement, I guess. Though I didn’t know exactly what I was smelling when it first hit me. I just knew I wanted it.”

“You wanted it?” Roman confirmed. Again. He was getting very repetitive, like one of those parrots I’d read about. Talking birds. I would have thought them a myth, but at one time who would have imagined vampires were real? Roman and Tage were straight-up vampires, and now I was a night-walker myself.

“Can I go inside?” The sun was terrible, and I blinked until tears slid down my face. Roman finally released me.

“Yeah.”

Tage followed me into the house. I knew it was him, because I could hear his footsteps. His were lighter than anyone else’s. He was nimble, like a cat, yet he called
me
tiger.

I trudged down the steps, loathing the dreadful bars I knew Roman would make me fix. “What’s wrong?” Tage asked.

“I’ll have to go back into the cage.”

His lips formed a pout. “Oh, kitten doesn’t like her cage?”

“How did I go from kitten to tiger, and then back to kitten again?”

“You aren’t all psychotic right now. You ate, and so far you’re holding it down. I’d say you’re ready to curl up and take a nap.”

“Did you sleep a lot after you turned?”

He shook his head. “No, I barely slept at all and barely do now. But each person is different.”

“Roman says I’m not a person.”

“Roman’s a dick,” was his quick response.

“Shh. He can hear you!” His eyes flicked from the metal cage and back to me.

“He knows I think he’s a dick,” he whisper-yelled. I rolled my eyes. “Don’t bother with those.” Tage flicked his head toward the bowed bars.

“Why?”

“What’s the point in fixing them if you’re just going to break them again? We know you can do it, and it’s no longer an effective means of controlling your crazy. You’ll have to learn to rein it in, but I actually think you can do this pretty easily as long as you aren’t provoked. You bypassed thirty or so colonists on your way to bovine breakfast this morning, and no one lost their throats.”

I smiled. “I did?”

“Yep. Colonists, colonists everywhere. And you didn’t have a drink.”

“No, I certainly didn’t.” I puffed my shoulders out. “Maybe I
can
do this.”

“You don’t have a choice, so suck it up, buttercup.”

Roman came down the steps and entered the door. “You’re a dick, too, Tage. And don’t bother with the bars. We need to hunt tonight. If you hold down the cow today, you can have more fresh meat later.”

Fresh meat.
Mmmm
. My mouth began to salivate.

“Shit!” Tage jumped away from me.

“What?”

“Your eyes just got like, eight shades darker somehow. What were you thinking about?”

“Food.”

“Have you ever seen anything like that?” Tage asked Roman over his shoulder.

“Not like that. That was…different.”

I giggled. I was definitely different, and for once in my life, it looked like it might actually be a good thing.

I didn’t bother going to the pavilion. I knew the night-walkers wouldn’t bother feeding from me, and no one else was likely to show up. I didn’t know what they would do, but one thing was certain: they would have to eventually feed. I hoped they at least talked to the Elders and gave them a chance to fix this mess before they went to find breakfast on their own.

Mrs. Dillinger’s house was dark, but I could hear an occasional thump from upstairs as I walked toward the door. Some of the planks on her porch were spongey and needed replacing. I tested my weight and shook my head. Poor woman didn’t go out much, so people tended to forget about her.

I knocked twice and waited. “It’s open,” she yelled from what sounded like upstairs. Her voice was muffled, yet it carried.

“Mrs. Dillinger? It’s Saul,” I said, my head stuck in the front door just enough to holler.

“Come on up.”

Stepping inside, I eased the door closed behind me. To the left was the kitchen. There was a fire, but it needed wood. I’d fix that on the way out. She needed more wood. I’d fix that later today, or send word to Ford later.

The steps creaked underfoot, but I climbed them fast and found her in an old recliner, fabric draped over her lap, brows drawn in concentration. She moved the needle, quickly stitching the two pieces of fabric together. I cleared my throat, breaking her concentration. “Good morning, Saul. I suppose it’s your turn to try and feed me some crap about Porschia. Seems her brother couldn’t tell a lie. Can you?”

I laughed. The woman had me. “She’s sick, but my mom’s taking care of her. She didn’t want to go home, but she didn’t want to get you sick either.”

“Bullshit.”

“Pardon?” My face heated with embarrassment and I pulled my coat away from my neck.

“I said bullshit. That’s a lie. Did she get bitten? Was it by her sister or another Infected?” The woman tried to sound tough, but I heard the waver in her voice.

“No. She isn’t Infected.”

“Well, at least
that
was the truth. Is she a night-walker, then?” My heart thundered. “Oh, no,” she said, dropping her work and using the arm rests to help herself to her feet. I grabbed her elbow and eased her up. “I knew something was going to happen. I had the worst feeling about her being in the rotation. And that mother of hers, if she can even call herself that. Why, I ought to wring her neck...”

I let her rant for a while before interrupting. “Mrs. Dillinger?”

“What is it?” she snapped.

“The Elders don’t know.”

She stared at me for a long moment before adding, “That’s good. Let’s keep it a secret for as long as we can.” Motioning toward my neck, she asked, “She do that to ya?”

“Yeah, but I told her to. I was trying to help.”

“With what, exactly?”

I swallowed. “She’s having trouble feeding.”

“I’ve never heard of that before. Night-walkers have always fed from us.”

A strand of sunlight peeked across the floor, the shutters unable to hold it back. “You were in the rotation?” I asked tentatively.

She shook her head, silver hair flying this way and that. “There wasn’t always a rotation,” she replied shakily.

“If the colonists don’t uphold their end of the treaty, it will be that way again.”

“That’s the most frightening thing I’ve heard all day. Listen—about Porschia? She’ll be okay. Just give her some time. But you need to keep away from her right now.”

“I want to help her.” I did. I’d trade places with her if I could.

She smiled softly, her wrinkles becoming shallow. “I know you do, but Porschia has feelings for you. And feelings, emotions, can make a person spiral and make poor choices. Imagine what it would do to a new vampire.”

She pursed her lips, having said her peace.

“I understand. It’ll be hard—”

She finished my thought, “But it’s what’s best for Porschia.”