I had been walking for days. I was aimless, completely in my head after the text that Autumn had sent. I was confused and in disbelief. More than anything… I was angry. Not angry with Autumn, but with myself. I knew that it was a mistake from the very beginning… but I chose to fall in deep with her. To think that I could have something even remotely close to an intimate relationship was… unrealistic… and not meant for me. Yet somehow I had convinced myself that it was possible. Everything seemed to just work out between us. But now look at me… How stupid was I?

  I wasn’t really sure where I was; I had no goal or destination. I just didn’t know what to do. In those moments, I wished a vision would take over my mind and Death would send me on a task. But no matter how much I wanted that, it didn’t happen. I walked in silence… but my mind was raging.

  Randomly, I stopped walking and tried to focus. I sat down on a concrete wall just above waist height. It separated the sidewalk from a building on the eastern side of St. Louis, close to the river. I wasn’t near downtown, more northeast of the city, though I could still see the buildings in the distance. It was daytime… and there were people around and cars driving by in both directions.

  I took a slow, long, drawn-out breath. Then I took another. I tried to focus on small things, little things like in the early days of this monstrous life. Breathing… in… then out. In and out. I tried to think about the things that I did have in my life. The breath in my lungs, the strength in my limbs, and my body. I still had friends. Carter, Frank, all the Chasses, Martin, and even Alex, the anthropophagus vampire.

  All these relationships would have a slightly different aspect now that my connection with Autumn had been severed. However, ultimately, those relationships wouldn’t change too much. Not even with Eleanor, Autumn’s mother. She and I were tied together in ways that no one could understand. I had given my life to save hers back when I still had the option to escape this life and this monstrous entity that wore my skin. I’d do that again if I had to; I knew that for sure.

  Although part of me dreaded seeing Eleanor again after Autumn’s decision. Not for anything she would blame me for, only because I knew she would feel all sorts of things about it, being conflicted and wanting to talk and make sure I was alright. I didn’t want to talk about it. In that moment, there on the cement wall, I felt like Frank. I felt ashamed… embarrassed, even, that I let myself get as close to Autumn as I did. Now look at me, everyone would see how far I fell. They would see the rejection… and what I had lost. They would… feel sorry for me… I could see why Frank had that look on his face.

  Honestly, at this point, I just wanted to stop thinking about it. I just wish there was an easy button I could hit that made everyone act like it never happened. Treat me like nothing was different.

  It was strange as I sat there thinking about the situation. Taking into consideration what I was, the unstoppable killing machine of Death himself, it was kind of weird to think that I was thinking and feeling these things. Even though I had all of this destruction inside of me, I still had a little remnant of my humanity left. That is what was being affected… the little bit of Sam that still clung to this existence.

  I stood up from the concrete wall and angled my trajectory towards Martin's bar. I knew that I could go there to at least have a drink, drown my sorrows like a normal human would. To do that, I’d need some of Martin’s yellow powder. Hopefully, he’d be willing to let me have some. If he wouldn't, maybe Alex would.

  About an hour later, I found myself sitting at the bar on top of a stool. I had already told Martin what had happened, and he stood across the bar from me, polishing a glass as he mulled over his own thoughts on the situation and Autumn’s choice.

  “I really don’t know what to say, Sam. Honestly, I didn’t expect that, but I know that she’s probably still going through a lot right now.” He stroked the black stubble on his chin after setting the glass on a stack of similarly polished cups. “Maybe just give her some time. She just lost more family, and you are an ever-evolving mystery to them. Especially after everything with Peter, and finally putting an end to his cause.”

  His thoughts were logical and well thought out. But he didn’t know it all. He had questions in his eyes about it all as well. Things I hadn’t told everyone yet. Truths so ancient that they’d shake the foundations of what he and the rest of my friends thought about the world… and me.

  I hadn’t told Martin anything remotely close to the full story. I just told him that, after everything that happened, Autumn and I had spoken; that I had given her the option to cut ties with me, if that’s what she wanted. I left out the fact that I knew the truth about my existence and shared that with her. The fact that I was bound to Death, the literal Grim Reaper himself, and also some other kind of ancient, Primeval being, was still a secret to the rest of the world. The only person that I had brought into that truth was Autumn, and it had scared her to death. Her reaction was physical, recoiling from me. The truth was enough for her to realize I was not what she wanted… not anymore. She wasn’t safe with me… and she finally realized what I had feared for so long.

  I just nodded as Martin spoke, thinking on his words and the text that Autumn had sent. As the beer, laced with the powdered blazing star, coursed through my veins, part of me started to feel a little different. It didn’t make any sense, but I started to be a little grateful.

  I wanted to be with Autumn, obviously, but just as I had with Vicky, my wife, whom I left behind, I worried about Autumn’s safety. I told Autumn, as well as her family, that if they ever wanted me gone, just tell me and I would leave… no questions asked. We had moved a step in that direction, changing my relationship with her to be one where I wasn’t so closely connected.

  That thought gave me a bit of peace. Knowing that she would be a little bit safer now made me a little bit more ok with what happened. She wouldn't be so close to this strange ancient force inside of me, and that was for the better… as much as it pained me to think it.

  The next fear that popped into my mind was that Carter and Eleanor would say something very similar someday soon. Once I finally told them all the full truth, anything could happen.

  A dark part of me wanted to tell Martin, just to see the look on his face when he realized the Grim Reaper was a real thing. I held back for the moment.

  We spent a bit of time talking about what happened with Peter. It was the first real time I’d caught up with Martin since it all went down. Peter was finally gone… for real this time.

  “It was something called a Primeval,” I told him. “Some kind of ancient thing. Lived in another world or dimension or whatever. It was tied to Peter and gave him more power over time. Every time he died, the thing just brought him back. It wasn’t him doing it… It was the thing.”

  I kept the part about my own Primeval to myself.

  “But it’s dead now?” Martin asked. He looked kind of tense about it.

  I nodded and took a long drink from my powdered beer. Tasted like herbs and earthy liquid, but it worked.

  He stared at me for a while, probably trying to pull more out of me. He knew me too well, though. Could probably tell I wasn’t gonna say anything else. That must’ve really got under his skin. The guy was way older than me… been around, seen things… and here I am, holding the answers he wants but not giving him a single thing. I’m sure it sucked for him, but that’s how it was… especially with where my mind was at.

  I figured the truth would get out eventually. I was planning to talk to Carter and Eleanor next, assuming they didn’t already know. Autumn probably told them after the way she reacted. It was kind of weird that I hadn’t heard anything yet. No calls, no messages. Martin hadn’t mentioned it either. Whatever… I didn’t feel like thinking about any of that right now.

  The bar got busier as the day faded into the night. I stuck to a shadowy corner, away from everyone. Once the pitcher ran dry, I just sat there for a while; no more beer, no powder, nothing. Just me staring into the dim silence, not even seeing the world around me; I was living in the memories of her… Autumn. Of everything that was gone now.

  Then the noises around me started to drop off. It wasn't that people were getting quieter; it was more like everything just faded. Muffled voices, distant music… all of it felt far away, like I was underwater. Ears ringing. Pressure building. Then something else broke through.

  Not Death. Not that usual cold voice of raw power that gave me orders. This was different.

  “Hunger… Kill…”

  It sounded like a snarl, full of rage. It wasn’t coming from outside… it came from me. Every inch of me, every cell, every part of me wanted the same thing. It wasn’t asking permission. It was just there, awake, hungry, ready to move.

  I didn’t need a name, a reason, or a plan. It wanted something dead. What? I had no idea. It was like it was searching. Hunting on its own, but limited from being bound inside my mental cage. But… it had a target… it was just searching… feeling something.

  I could tell Alex was pouring another pitcher, probably on her way over. I didn’t feel like dealing with the red-headed bartender’s usual attitude. She liked messing with me, poking in directions and places to rile me up… at least that’s what it seemed like. I didn’t have the energy for it, so I bailed. I slipped through the crowd without a word, out the front doors. No one saw me leave, and that was fine. I didn’t want to be seen anyway, and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else. I was struggling to maintain my composure as the voice in my mind periodically spoke to me.

  As I walked the streets, the voice returned, getting louder and louder every minute. “Hunger… kill… hunger… kill.” It was like unrelenting whispers in my mind. Then there were times the voice raged and screamed as loud as my mind could endure, “HUNGER…KILL!”

  It never stopped. The words were deafening, losing audible solidity and contorting into a vibrational command that made my whole brain ring with power. The words were a blur, but the force… the will of Myordrakien was clear.

  I had stumbled into an alleyway as I headed towards the downtown area. There was a dark, cold, wet hideaway from the rest of the city, and I stumbled in, unable to maintain my composure. I held my hands to my ears, clenching my teeth as the words bored into my skull.

  “Hunger… kill…”

  I thought I was going to black out. My legs barely worked. The voice inside me… the Primeval was hammering at my skull with every syllable it could squeeze into my brain.

  “Hunger… kill… hunger… kill…”

  It wasn’t yelling anymore. It was vibrating, like a deep bass running through every inch of me. A pressure I couldn’t think around. My head thundered, and my chest felt like it was going to explode. But it wasn’t my heartbeat, it was something else. Older and bigger, every beat shook through my bones like I was just the outer casing for something clawing to the surface.

  Then, at its peak, right when I was sure this was it, that I was finally breaking apart from the inside out… everything just stopped.

  The silence was sudden and jarring, like someone had yanked the cord out of my mind. No voice. No heartbeat. No pressure. It was all gone. Just a dull, ringing emptiness.

  I waited, holding still in the alley like it was all about to start again. But it didn’t. No commands. No presence. Just nothing. I let out a shaky breath and leaned back against the wall, rubbing the side of my head with the back of my curled knuckles.

  I wanted to believe it was stress. Frank, Autumn, all the crap piled on top of itself. But I knew better. It wasn’t grief, and it wasn’t exhaustion; it was something bigger. Something inside me, and it wasn’t done. This was just one step in the direction towards something… something that I sensed would be big.

  Eventually, I ended up heading west, not even thinking about the time. Thoughts cropped up in my head… images of Frank. That whole situation was weird. I wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t want to reach out to him. But, a part of me knew that he might need help… he just didn’t know how to ask for it. So, I made my way to the best person I could think of… though part of me didn’t want to go that way.

  The further I walked, the more the city gave way to big trees and old houses. Quiet neighborhoods with long driveways and too much space between things. I was getting closer, once the suburban neighborhoods gave way to expanses of trees and quieter properties, I knew I was close.

  It wasn’t until I hit the edge of Carter’s property that I realized the sun had already come up. Pale orange across the treetops. The house loomed like it always did; sprawling, old, alive with memories I wasn’t sure still belonged to me.

  I stood at the tree line, fists clenched, staring through the break in the branches. I could’ve called. Could’ve walked up. But the nerves hit me all at once. Seeing them again. Facing… her, after what was said. What she chose…

  I swallowed it and sent a text to Carter instead. Took the coward’s path, halfway at least.

  “I’m in the tree line.”

  A few minutes later, I saw Carter come out of the back door. He didn’t slam it. He didn’t even close it hard. Just pulled it shut, quietly, like he was trying not to let anyone know what he was doing.

  He looked weary, his tired blue eyes framed by the light features of his no-nonsense, dirty-blonde haircut. He moved fast through the yard, jogging his extremely honed muscular frame silently through the grass expanse in a manner that looked effortless, like a bounding gazelle. I stayed hidden behind the pines until he got close. Then I stepped out.

  “Fuck,” he muttered when he saw me, slowing down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Never get used to that.”

  I got the feeling he wasn't talking about me. He continued toward me at the edge of his yard. I sent out a general pulse of my newest sense and let it wash over and through the house to get an idea of what was inside; what he could be talking about.

  I could feel her. Autumn was inside… and she wasn’t alone.

  Something sharp twisted in my gut as I reached further with a second pulse of all my senses converging and acting as one in the sonar-like pulse. The second presence clicked into focus… Patrick.

  It hit like a punch in my gut. Not a dramatic one, just cold and dull, right in the middle of my stomach. I saw them in my mind, clear as day. Sitting close together on the living room couch, not touching, not kissing; just talking quietly, drinking coffee in the early morning hours. It was intimate… close. Too close.

  I blinked. My expression didn’t change. I sensed Patrick’s car in front of the house, and could feel the heat still rising from the engine. He hadn’t stayed the night, just arrived this morning… half an hour ago… tops. My mind still reeled… imagining the two of them… together… all night.

  I had to stop myself; it was beginning to be too much… and this wasn’t what I came here for. I pushed the feeling down and locked it away somewhere deep. No time for that. Not now.

  Carter watched me for a moment, then said quietly, “We were as surprised as you.” He sounded guilty, and his eyes cast down to the grass. “She told us you came over… that you talked. Said it made her decide. I… I really just… don’t know what to say, Sam… except that I… we, Eleanor and I, are both sorry.” He trailed off. That was all he had; no explanation, no fix, just the new reality. “But just because she chose this doesn’t mean we’re walking away too,” he added. “Eleanor would lose her fucking mind if she thought you were disappearing again. And I’d be right there with her.”

  Stolen story; please report.

  I gritted my teeth and slowly nodded, looking down at the same point in the grass as him.

  He looked over his shoulder at the house. “You’re still family, Sam. You’re still ours. No matter what she does.”

  I nodded slowly, letting his words land somewhere in the back of my head. They didn’t soften the blow. But they were a comfort I didn’t know I needed.

  “Thanks, Carter,” I said. “I appreciate that. I really do.” I paused, eyes fixed on the window where I could feel her behind. “But… why is he here?”

  Carter shook his head. “He came over yesterday. And now he’s back. They’ve been… talking for hours. A long time last night, and then he came back first thing this morning.”

  He didn’t sound any more certain about it than I was. I was racking my brain over everything she had ever said about Patrick, and it didn’t make sense. But… the harsh reality of what I told her could have shaken her so bad that nothing would make sense for her… or me.

  “It doesn’t make sense to me either,” he admitted. “But things have been messed up. Maybe they just need time to feel normal again. Hell, maybe we all do.” He said it like he was trying to convince himself more than me.

  I could tell that Carter had a question cocked back and ready to launch. I knew what it was. He wanted to know what we talked about before she made this change in her life. She hadn’t told them… I could see it. His eyes had this searching look, like even Autumn was silent and vague about it all. I shook my head internally. I couldn’t believe that it had done so much to her, just to find out the truth about me and Death. If she hadn’t told her parents… maybe even she feared what they would do, or how they’d react. Maybe she just didn’t want to think about it.

  I kept my face still. Didn’t let anything slip, not the betrayal, and not the pain. I had to turn it off; all of it. Go numb and just keep moving before Carter could ask the question.

  “Believe it or not,” I said first, “that’s not why I came.”

  “Oh?” Carter leaned against a tree, curiously letting his question slip away from the front of his mind.

  “It’s Frank. Have you noticed anything off about him lately?”

  Carter’s face shifted. He went still. I saw the gears turning. He almost said something, stopped, then met my eyes again.

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Frank came to me the other night,” I said, keeping my voice flat. “Asked me for help.”

  That was all I got out before Carter exploded. “Motherfucker!” he barked, throwing his hands in the air. “I fucking knew it was him!”

  He started pacing, muttering curses, shaking his head like the words weren’t enough. I stayed quiet. Let him work through it.

  Because now that was the real reason I was here; I was right. Something was wrong with Frank.

  “You helped Frank go after those guys?” Carter asked, his tone sharp, but not surprised.

  For a second, I felt like I was a kid again, caught red-handed and about to be grounded. My shoulders tensed. I nodded, slowly, trying to shake the weird guilt creeping in like I’d broken some unspoken rule.

  Carter exhaled hard through his nose and ran a hand down his face. “Frank should’ve never pulled you into that.”

  He stood there quietly for a second, jaw tight, like he was keeping something from boiling over. Eventually, he spoke again.

  “Those guys you two roughed up… they’re not just some randoms. They’re from a sloth.”

  “A what?” I blinked.

  He caught himself, trying not to get too deep too fast. “It’s what a group of bears is called. A sloth. Not really a ‘pack’ like Jane’s. More… disconnected. They’re not werewolves. They’re Bearskers… or werebears.”

  I stared. “That’s a thing?”

  “Yeah,” Carter said flatly. “They’re rare. Most hunters don’t even know they exist. Stronger than werewolves, way stronger, and they don’t run in packs. Their curse is tied to the moon, but much more loosely. They have most of their strength all the time. Most of them stay isolated unless something forces them to come together. When they do, it’s usually for blood.”

  I stayed quiet, letting that sink in. He continued, his voice dipping a little like he was recounting something older than either of us.

  “They’ve been around this area for decades. They come and go. Sometimes stay for a week. Sometimes a few years. There’s… history between one of them and Jane. And obviously Frank.”

  His tone darkened on Frank’s name.

  I cracked a small grin. “I didn’t exactly beat them all up, you know.”

  It felt ridiculous talking about it like it was some bar fight. We messed them up bad. If they weren’t supernatural, they’d be in the ground or strapped to hospital beds. But Carter didn’t laugh. He just kept that same tired look, like none of this was funny anymore.

  “Frank had this plant,” I said, pulling us back to what had really stuck with me. “He chewed it before we went after them. I didn’t know who we were going for exactly, but he told me flat out… we were going to hurt people.”

  Carter flinched like the words stung. Then he looked away, eyes scanning the trees like they might give him a better answer than I would.

  “Yeah,” he muttered, almost to himself. “It’s called Hunter’s Breath…”

  He hesitated. Then, seeing the look on my face, he caved and explained.

  “It’s not something you just find. You have to grow it. Carefully. Intentionally. The process is a pain in the ass, but once it’s thriving, it spreads fast. Our ancestors learned how to cultivate it, with help from the Wicklow family, of course.” His voice dropped lower. “It’s got… supernatural effects. I don’t know if it’s magic. Maybe it is. I don’t care. What it does is make you stronger… way stronger. It dulls pain and makes you feel invincible. But it’s not clean; it hits the body hard… mind too. You take too much, and it can fry your nerves. Long-term use… it messes you up.”

  I watched him as he spoke, his words hollowing out more as he went on. There was weight behind them. Not the kind you read in a warning label, but the kind that comes from surviving it firsthand.

  “I was hooked on it for a time,” he admitted. “So was Frank… Clara. There was a stretch, years ago… it was bad. We weren’t the same family you have come to know.”

  I tried to picture it. The whole Chasse family… proud, strong, put-together, caught up in a quiet war with themselves. Strung out on a plant that made them gods for a few hours at a time. It didn’t seem real.

  But the way Frank had looked that night… the shame in his eyes… it clicked.

  “It’s not the high people get addicted to,” Carter said. “It’s the power. The control. You start to feel like you need it. Not just to win fights on a hunt, but to stay safe. To be able to protect the people around you. To matter in a world of blood and teeth against things stronger than you.” He looked down at the ground for a second. “And then, before you realize it… It owns you.” Carter was remembering things from his past as he spoke. “If Frank’s using again,” he added, “and it’s just to go knock around Jane’s old boyfriend? That’s not good.”

  He paused, then looked at me.

  “What was he like that night? I mean… his state of mind.”

  I took a second to remember it right.

  “Dead serious. No jokes. No Frank-style lightheartedness. Just quiet and pissed. He didn’t eat the plant until we pulled up. I think he was still trying to hold back until the last minute.”

  Carter nodded slowly, locking the pieces in place in his head. “Thanks for telling me,” he said. “I’m sorry you got pulled into that crap. Hopefully, it won’t lead to anything worse. Clive probably already suspects Frank anyway.”

  I leaned back a bit, arms crossed. “What are they even doing here? The werebears, I mean. Why now?”

  Carter shrugged, but it didn’t feel casual. “No clue. Maybe the chaos with Peter drew them out. Maybe they’re just passing through. But when they show up, it always stirs something up in Frank. That was even before he and Jane got back together. Now?” He trailed off again, visibly unsure. “Now, I don’t know where this goes… or what Frank will do next.”

  I could tell he hated not knowing. There was something heavy in the air between us then. Not anger or fear, just this slow, creeping understanding that old ghosts were back in town. Not threats like Peter, Mercy, or Phineas, but… complications.

  “So… who exactly is Clive? You said he was Jane’s ex?”

  Carter gave a dry chuckle and leaned back a little against a tree, like he was bracing himself for a story he hadn’t thought about in a while.

  “Clive’s… complicated,” he said. “He first showed up years ago, back when we were barely in high school. No friends, no ties, just wandered into the area. Didn’t belong to any sloth or family. Just a lone werebear… and a young one. Strong as hell, though. Scary strong… and he knew it.” Carter did little air quotes. “One of those guys.”

  I nodded, “Cocky?”

  He nodded, then added more quietly, “When we were younger, we all thought Clive was just some melodramatic drifter. Kind of an asshole, honestly. But the weird thing is… he’s never changed.” Carter scratched at the side of his jaw, eyes narrowing a bit. “We heard rumors that he was cursed young, like, before puberty. The kind of stories our uncles would tell us around a fire to scare us. They said he mauled his entire family one full moon, tore ‘em apart in their sleep. The bear inside him took over and didn’t stop. I never knew if that story was true or not… could’ve just been a warning tale, you know? Stay away from the Talbots. Stay away from the cursed ones.”

  I could see that for sure. Parents attempting to keep their kids safe from the threats that loom in the area with scare tactics.

  He grew more serious now. “He knew Jane before her curse ever took hold. Back when she and Frank were still together. But there was never anything between her and Clive back then. He was around the Talbot family here and there, staying with them from time to time, but nothing serious with Jane. She was with Frank, and Clive just kind of… existed… doing his own thing.” Carter’s face darkened slightly. “But when Jane’s curse took hold, everything changed. Like something about it pulled her and Clive toward each other. Magnetism, instincts… I don’t know. But Frank was already out of the picture by then. Jane had left him… trying to protect him. She’d been gone a while, maybe a year. Frank had managed to find some kind of balance in that time. He was rough, but he had his feet under him again.”

  A sigh escaped Carter. “Then Clive and Jane got close. Really close. And that’s when things got ugly. The animal side of both of them took over. I heard someone say that you could feel it in the room whenever they were around each other, like pressure in the air. And Frank… he heard those things too. He couldn’t handle it. Just knowing they were together… it tore him apart on the inside. Sent him spiraling. He was angry all the time… and that made him reckless.”

  “Damn,” I said to myself, it felt like something I was inching towards. I gazed back towards the house, sensing Patrick and Autumn’s presence still there with their coffee and close conversation. I felt a rage swell that I had to clamp down on.

  Carter shook his head. “Frank’s always had a mean streak… never mean to us, not to family, but… he was intense back then. He didn’t want to lead the family after our dad died. Said he didn’t trust himself to keep a level head. And honestly? He was probably right.”

  It was so weird to hear this, because that wasn’t the Frank I came to know. I knew the version of him after all that. After he had calmed and recentered himself. The older, cooled-off version. The glimpse of this old Frank I saw in the truck was just that… an image of the past.

  “That time… that was when Frank started using Hunter’s Breath,” Carter said quietly. “He thought that if he got strong enough, stronger than Clive, he could challenge him. Win Jane back. Maybe prove he was the better man… stronger man. But it didn’t work like that… that’s not what Jane was looking for. Frank wasn't the same to her either. That stuff… Hunter’s Breath… it messes with your mind. Makes your emotions run wild… and it showed to everyone.” Carter looked down, then finally said, “So yeah. A lot of history between the three of them. And none of it ends clean. It just left scars on everyone involved.”

  “So what happened? If Clive and Jane were so drawn to each other, why did they split up? This is the first time I’ve even heard of him,” I asked as I racked my brain trying to remember if I had ever even heard or seen a mention of his name before now.

  “They kind of fell apart on their own, even without Frank coming in swinging. I think two people like them, as strong-willed as they are, it’s hard to stay in a relationship where they are constantly battling for superiority… if that makes any sense.”

  “I think so.” I thought about it for a second. “They’re both strong, but one of them always had to be stronger?”

  “Yep.” Carter adjusted himself against the tree again, changing his stance from getting tired of leaning on the same leg. “Jane being the woman, obviously, Clive thought he was the stronger, more dominant of the two. Jane’s dad and my father were pretty close back in their heyday. He spoke a lot about Jane and Clive’s relationship. My dad would tell me things when I asked, but he never talked about it in front of Frank. That’s the only reason I know as much as I do. Clara knows some as well, but she kind of hated Jane when we were younger.”

  “Really?” I was taken aback for a moment as Clara seemed nothing but open and inviting to Jane now. I still remember the night I came for the cookout at Carter’s house when Frank went outside to meet Jane, and we watched from inside. Clara seems thrilled that Jane decided to show up. It was hard to see her in a different era of her life, hating Jane.

  “Yeah, she knew what Jane did, leaving Frank like that. And then seeing her pal around with Clive, whenever we did see them, it set her off. She was using Hunter’s breath around that time as well. Frank and Clara weren’t actively taking it together; they had their own things going on and their own reasons for doing it. It just happened to overlap a bit of time there.”

  “What about you? When were you taking it?” I asked bluntly, invading the shit out of his personal life. I don’t know why I didn’t even think about it. I just asked, mostly curious after this info dump about the family.

  Carter didn’t even break stride with his words; he just answered plainly. “Pretty much the full nine months that I knew Eleanor was pregnant with Allen.”

  I kind of felt like a dickhead for diving straight into his dark personal shit without thinking. He answered so fast I didn’t have a chance to retract my words either, but I didn’t say anything else, and he didn’t offer.

  “Jane has no interest in Clive, that’s why I don’t understand why Frank did what he did. Jane is fully committed to Frank. I don’t know if this is just bad blood, or if Clive did something that I’m not aware of. At any rate, if Frank asks you to do some shit like that again, I need you to say no. And I know this may be a lot to ask, but I need you to try to talk him down from doing anything like that again if he tries to persuade you.”

  I didn’t say anything, but I slowly nodded.

  I don’t think Frank is falling back into old habits with the Hunter's Breath, but just the fact that he used it worries me. We all swore that shit off a long time ago. We do grow it, but we don’t harvest, and we don’t under any circumstances cultivate it into usable doses like before. Not without us all being in agreement and what exactly it's going to be used for, and the amount we made. We all have to agree, though. It’s only supposed to be for extreme life and death cases. And that’s saying something when we go out fighting with supernatural creatures.”

  “So… he just straight up ate the whole plant… he didn’t cultivate it?”

  “No,” Carter breathed his answer, thankful.

  “So that’s why you think he’s not actually getting back into it?”

  Carter nodded.

  I took a quick breath. “Well… if he comes up and wants to do something like that again, I’ll let you know.”

  Carter turned his gaze back towards the house, looking at it for a long minute. I turned my eyes to look at it as well.

  After a few moments of silence, my mind shifted gears.

  The haunting vision returned to my mind, seeing Peter talking to Patrick, giving him that brush after killing Autumn’s roommate… It was a lot to take in. But ultimately it was just a scene, a small detail of a much greater story. The fucked up trail of Peter’s life. I hoped and prayed that whatever it was he did had died with him, and my fears were unwarranted. But I still had to ask.

  Can you do something for me? I asked Carter.

  He turned his head and looked at me inquisitively, snapping out of whatever daydream he had just fallen into while looking at his house. “What is it?”

  This may sound weird, and I hope it’s nothing, but I saw something in a vision I got before I was sent for Peter.

  “One of the visions from the… entity?”

  I nodded, “In it, I saw Peter talking to Patrick… alone. Patrick was scared. He whispered things to him… things I couldn’t hear. Patrick was terrified. I don’t know exactly when it happened for real, but it was after Bartley's death… I could feel that at least. It was also after Peter went to Autumn’s dorm room… and killed her roommate.”

  Carter’s eyes opened wide. “She’s… she’s dead?” his question came with other things. They knew something was going on with her roommate, but they didn’t know she was dead. Maybe Autumn had mentioned she hadn’t seen her or something. But they had definitely spoken about it, based on his reaction. No, he knew…

  I wanted to ask more about it… but continued.

  “Yeah… Peter killed her… brutally. He took something from there, a small green hairbrush. He took it and gave it to Patrick. I’m not sure what that hairbrush means, if anything. I’m hoping that Peter’s power died along with him, and it’s nothing. But can you… like, keep an eye on them? Just in case some kind of threat from Peter remains.”

  I tried not to say it in a way that wouldn't completely scare the shit out of him, but there were real fears that I had that something could be going on. It was just hard to differentiate those fears from the doubt that Autumn would actually tell me she didn’t want me around anymore.

  I couldn’t explain it, but I felt something in the vision… something between Patrick and Autumn. Seeing them together like this… now. It was hard to figure out what it could be… if anything. It was hard to understand true reactions and what she was thinking as well, since I had told her about Death. Another wrench in the system to complicate all of this.

  Carter’s face was stone-cold serious. “Was there anything else? Anything else you saw Patrick do?”

  “No, but he definitely took the brush. I know it may sound weird, but part of me is worried that this may have something to do with…” I couldn’t even bring myself to say it out loud. I felt like such a little bitch. Like I was making excuses for why she chose what she did. Clinging to any hope that I could get her back, and her choices weren't her own.

  I stopped talking and just stared at the ground, gritting my teeth and trying to go numb. It was the only thing I really knew how to do in moments like this. I had too much baggage as it was. The monster was enough of a burden, and a very serious one. Even the thought of getting so bent out of shape over a relationship that should have never been was embarrassing. It was wrong from the beginning, since I had a wife and daughter whom I actively stayed away from. I made them all believe I was dead, and here I was, upset over a girl… a girl that… that I didn’t deserve.

  It had been two years of wandering around, looking for kills to satiate the monster, before I met Autumn. Two years of solitary loneliness, knowing my wife had moved on… but still, I knew it was wrong in a way.

  “I'll look into it,” Carter said seriously. I could see the determination on his face, and the burden of the truth; that Autumn’s roommate, and her entire family, had been touched by Peter’s dark hand. They were collateral damage, and Carter felt somewhat responsible.

  I nodded in thanks. We didn’t need to say much else, and had a silent acknowledgment. I think Carter could tell how conflicted I was about the whole thing, like saying this was somehow me claiming what she chose wasn't real. He didn’t push, but I knew he was furious that there could even be a possibility that Patrick had a secret that involved the necromancer and his daughter.

  I took another agonizing look back at the house with my enhanced senses. I could sense them inside; they had moved but were still together. They sat together in the corner of a small couch on the second floor. Autumn's study area. They were silent, but I could hear their breathing. I could hear her pulse rising as they sat closer. It felt… wrong.

  I had to cut myself off. I went numb and turned away. Carter knew what I was looking at and gave a sad, knowing look.

  We parted ways, and I returned to the city.