Sam lowered his hands to his side.
They stood there in the darkness. Jack breathed through his mouth, trying not to smell the burned flesh.
Then they heard a sound. Many sounds.
Sam raised his hands and pale light glowed.
Hunter was all but gone.
The things that had been inside him were still there.
His knock at her door was soft. Diana almost didn’t hear it.
She took a shaky breath. He had come. She’d figured he would.
“Who is it?” Diana asked.
“Sam,” Caine said.
Diana opened the door. He was leaning against the frame. His body language and expression were not those of someone who was happy.
“Funny,” Diana said.
Caine pushed past her into the room. “Close the door and lock it,” Caine ordered. “Bug: if you’re in here and I catch you I will kill you. You have till I count to ten to get out.”
Caine and Diana both waited and watched the door. It did not open.
“I don’t think he’s here,” Diana said. “I can usually smell him.”
They stood awkwardly apart. Like strangers. Diana noticed that Caine had bathed and combed his hair. He was usually as well put-together as circumstances would allow. But this was a special effort.
Diana had decided against any special outfit. It wasn’t about lingerie or whatever. She was dressed in jeans and a blouse. Barefoot. She had avoided makeup.
“You want me to be Sam,” Caine said. “I’m not Sam. I’m me.”
“I don’t want you to be Sam,” Diana said.
“You don’t want me to be me,” Caine said.
Diana considered him. Handsome, no question. Cruel. Intelligent.
“There’s more than one you, Caine,” Diana said.
He blinked. “What’s that mean?”
“You’re not Drake.”
Caine waved off the suggestion and his face registered disgust. “Drake’s a sick creep. I just do what I have to do. I don’t get off on it. He’s a psycho. I’m . . .” He searched for the right word. “. . . ambitious.”
Diana laughed. Not a derisive laugh, a genuine laugh of astonishment.
“What? I am ambitious,” Caine said.
“That’s one word for it,” Diana said. “Power hungry. Domineering. A bully.”
“I’m not good at taking orders,” Caine said.
Diana grinned. “No. You’re not.”
They both fell silent. Diana looked at him. He looked down at the floor.
“But you did take orders. From the Darkness, Caine.”
Caine flushed angrily. He turned away. He walked quickly back to the door. But he stopped before touching the handle.
“The lights are off in Perdido Beach because you took orders,” Diana said.
“Who was it that buried that thing in its mine shaft?” Caine demanded, his voice ragged.
“You.”
“Yeah,” Caine said. “And saved Sam in the process.”
“Yes. And soon after that we became cannibals.”
“We have food now,” Caine said. “Lots of food.”
He walked back to Diana, reached to touch her, but this time she walked away. She stood at the window. The false moon was setting. It dabbed the distant hilltops with silver.
“It was too much,” Diana said, almost to herself. “Everything else I could kind of accept. The violence. The battles. What we did to Andrew and what you did to Chunk. And all the rest. I mean, it all sort of left a bruise on me, you know?”
Caine did not answer.
“Inside. In my heart. In my soul.” She laughed at herself. “Diana Ladris’s soul. Right.”
“It was a low point,” Caine admitted.
“You think?” Diana snapped, looking over her shoulder at him with a trace of her usual mockery. “Eating human flesh, that was a low point?”
“We had no—”
“Oh, shut up,” Diana said. She turned away from the window. There were tears in her eyes and she hadn’t wanted him to see. The last thing she wanted was to seem weak.
But he did see now. The shock on his face almost made her laugh again.
“All my life I’ve been a tough girl,” Diana said. “I was cool with that. People would say, Diana’s a bitch. Diana’s a slut. Diana’s mean. All that I could deal with because I guess it was basically true. Now they’re going to look at me and say, Diana’s a cannibal? How do I live with that?” She was shouting suddenly.
“Who are these people you’re worried about? Penny? Bug?”
“What if we get out? People! People!” She hesitated. “And God.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And my kids. Someday.”
“Kids?” Caine’s look of confusion and consternation finally did force a laugh from Diana.
“Yes. Someday. Could happen. That’s right: the day may come when I have a baby. Maybe even more than one.”
Caine said, “Um . . .” He made a vague gesture with his hands. He made several attempts to say something. None were successful.
“Do you love me?” Diana asked.
Caine’s eyes widened. She could actually see him twitch. Like a startled animal. Like a rabbit who had just heard a fox.
“It’s a yes or no question,” Diana said acidly. “But I’ll accept a nod or a shake of the head or an incoherent grunt.”
“I . . . I don’t know what you mean by that,” Caine said lamely.
They stood there in the darkness. Jack breathed through his mouth, trying not to smell the burned flesh.
Then they heard a sound. Many sounds.
Sam raised his hands and pale light glowed.
Hunter was all but gone.
The things that had been inside him were still there.
His knock at her door was soft. Diana almost didn’t hear it.
She took a shaky breath. He had come. She’d figured he would.
“Who is it?” Diana asked.
“Sam,” Caine said.
Diana opened the door. He was leaning against the frame. His body language and expression were not those of someone who was happy.
“Funny,” Diana said.
Caine pushed past her into the room. “Close the door and lock it,” Caine ordered. “Bug: if you’re in here and I catch you I will kill you. You have till I count to ten to get out.”
Caine and Diana both waited and watched the door. It did not open.
“I don’t think he’s here,” Diana said. “I can usually smell him.”
They stood awkwardly apart. Like strangers. Diana noticed that Caine had bathed and combed his hair. He was usually as well put-together as circumstances would allow. But this was a special effort.
Diana had decided against any special outfit. It wasn’t about lingerie or whatever. She was dressed in jeans and a blouse. Barefoot. She had avoided makeup.
“You want me to be Sam,” Caine said. “I’m not Sam. I’m me.”
“I don’t want you to be Sam,” Diana said.
“You don’t want me to be me,” Caine said.
Diana considered him. Handsome, no question. Cruel. Intelligent.
“There’s more than one you, Caine,” Diana said.
He blinked. “What’s that mean?”
“You’re not Drake.”
Caine waved off the suggestion and his face registered disgust. “Drake’s a sick creep. I just do what I have to do. I don’t get off on it. He’s a psycho. I’m . . .” He searched for the right word. “. . . ambitious.”
Diana laughed. Not a derisive laugh, a genuine laugh of astonishment.
“What? I am ambitious,” Caine said.
“That’s one word for it,” Diana said. “Power hungry. Domineering. A bully.”
“I’m not good at taking orders,” Caine said.
Diana grinned. “No. You’re not.”
They both fell silent. Diana looked at him. He looked down at the floor.
“But you did take orders. From the Darkness, Caine.”
Caine flushed angrily. He turned away. He walked quickly back to the door. But he stopped before touching the handle.
“The lights are off in Perdido Beach because you took orders,” Diana said.
“Who was it that buried that thing in its mine shaft?” Caine demanded, his voice ragged.
“You.”
“Yeah,” Caine said. “And saved Sam in the process.”
“Yes. And soon after that we became cannibals.”
“We have food now,” Caine said. “Lots of food.”
He walked back to Diana, reached to touch her, but this time she walked away. She stood at the window. The false moon was setting. It dabbed the distant hilltops with silver.
“It was too much,” Diana said, almost to herself. “Everything else I could kind of accept. The violence. The battles. What we did to Andrew and what you did to Chunk. And all the rest. I mean, it all sort of left a bruise on me, you know?”
Caine did not answer.
“Inside. In my heart. In my soul.” She laughed at herself. “Diana Ladris’s soul. Right.”
“It was a low point,” Caine admitted.
“You think?” Diana snapped, looking over her shoulder at him with a trace of her usual mockery. “Eating human flesh, that was a low point?”
“We had no—”
“Oh, shut up,” Diana said. She turned away from the window. There were tears in her eyes and she hadn’t wanted him to see. The last thing she wanted was to seem weak.
But he did see now. The shock on his face almost made her laugh again.
“All my life I’ve been a tough girl,” Diana said. “I was cool with that. People would say, Diana’s a bitch. Diana’s a slut. Diana’s mean. All that I could deal with because I guess it was basically true. Now they’re going to look at me and say, Diana’s a cannibal? How do I live with that?” She was shouting suddenly.
“Who are these people you’re worried about? Penny? Bug?”
“What if we get out? People! People!” She hesitated. “And God.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And my kids. Someday.”
“Kids?” Caine’s look of confusion and consternation finally did force a laugh from Diana.
“Yes. Someday. Could happen. That’s right: the day may come when I have a baby. Maybe even more than one.”
Caine said, “Um . . .” He made a vague gesture with his hands. He made several attempts to say something. None were successful.
“Do you love me?” Diana asked.
Caine’s eyes widened. She could actually see him twitch. Like a startled animal. Like a rabbit who had just heard a fox.
“It’s a yes or no question,” Diana said acidly. “But I’ll accept a nod or a shake of the head or an incoherent grunt.”
“I . . . I don’t know what you mean by that,” Caine said lamely.
