Killer Moon

Home > Other > Killer Moon > Page 17
Killer Moon Page 17

by Hermione Stark


  “Nemesis,” I say quietly to myself in the mirror.

  My memory of yesterday evening is a black hole. There is no memory. India said I came to see her. She said I was wearing a black wig. How could that possibly be? I don’t own a black wig. It has to have been someone else. Someone pretending to be me. But just because I don’t own a black wig doesn’t mean I couldn’t have got one. I have got things before that I never remembered getting.

  This whole thing is like deja vu. It has happened to me before.

  “Nemesis,” I say again into the mirror.

  I know now that she can hear me. Somewhere inside my head she can hear me.

  I want so badly to believe that it had not been me who came to the hospital yesterday to take India out. But I can’t deny it. Who else could have got those two amulets that belong to Theo? I feel like I am going mad. It has even crossed my mind that maybe Theo is involved in all this. But I know he isn’t. Not Theo. I would stake my life on it. Not Theo, but me. It was me.

  “Nemesis,” I say again. “I know it was you. Answer me. I know you can hear me.”

  But even as I say these words I am horrified at what they mean. They mean that Theo’s amulet did not work. They mean that she has learned to take control of my body without me even being aware of it. It can’t be true. And yet I know that it is true. The amulet is still around my neck, the red lavastone glaring at me from my reflection in the mirror.

  I should take it off. I should give it to Theo to break apart like he had done the others, but what is the use? I already know that it does not work.

  “I know it was you. You stole the amulets from Theo. You gave them to India. You wanted her to forget that it was you. And it would have worked if I hadn’t called Theo. It would have worked if he hadn’t found the amulets in time. I know it was you. How could you steal from him? He’s looked out for me. He’s my friend!”

  She does not reply. She is silent. My head is utterly empty, devoid of any little voice, as if there is only me inside there. But I know she is there. Not locked away like I had thought, but free. She is free. And she has found a way to stop me from sensing her. To stop me from hearing her.

  Oh what a fool I have allowed myself to be. I had believed the amulet worked on us because I so desperately had wanted it to work. And all the while I have let Nemesis be free.

  “God, you must have loved that Theo thought it was little Mozz misplacing the things you stole,” I say bitterly. “You must’ve thought she was such a blessing in disguise. I bet you laughed. You fooled us all.”

  Still she does not say a word.

  “Speak to me, damn you. Do you know how much trouble I am in? India is going to tell them it was me who abducted her from the hospital yesterday. They’ll think it was me who put her in a coma. They are going to think that I am involved in all this!”

  She does not answer. The bathroom is silent but for the sound of my harsh breathing.

  “Speak to me or I’ll go to Storm. I’ll tell him everything. I’ll tell them about you inside my head. I’ll tell him that you’re a killer. You tried to kill before. He’ll lock me up, and I’ll let him. You speak to me right now, or I will do it. I swear.”

  There’s no need to get in a huff about it, she says.

  I flinch at the sound of her voice, so loud and clear in my mind, not even pretending that she is weak. Not even pretending that Theo’s amulet has any effect on her. I had known it already but to hear her speak out loud so easily is worse than knowing it. I clench my fists, my nails cutting into the palm of my hands.

  “What have you been doing?” I whisper in horror, an awful new thought occurring to me. How many nights have I thought I was asleep when Nemesis has been awake? What else has she been doing? “Tell me it wasn’t you?” I gasp.

  She cackles, her laugh full of contempt. Me who killed Rachel? You really are paranoid. Of course I never killed Rachel. Why would I?

  I sag in relief against the sink. “Then why? Why did you take India out yesterday? What are you up to?”

  The clue is in the name, she says snidely. I’m a nemesis. I was made for punishing the wicked, and that is what I have to do. I found the man who wanted India first. Before you. Before your precious Agent Storm. I’m the one who found him and made him pay.

  “You found Sergeant Lowry?” I whisper.

  His real name is Stephen Manners, she says smugly. I found that out. I made him tell us his name. And oh what a naughty boy Stephen Manners is.

  “What did you do?” I demand. “Tell me you didn’t kill him. Please tell me you didn’t kill him?”

  Why do you care so much? He’s a murderer. He murdered Rachel. And now he needs to pay.

  “So he’s not dead?” I say in relief. “Where is he? What have you done with him?”

  Wouldn’t you like to know? she says coyly.

  “Nemesis, what have you done? Tell me right now,” I demand.

  Stop calling me Nemesis, she says. I’m not your nemesis. I’ll let you call me Alys.

  “Alys,” I whisper, shuddering.

  She giggles, as if relishing hearing her name on my tongue. She is savoring this moment of my realization. It is her moment of victory. She has been waiting for it, for when I would finally discover that she had been there all along. I had almost forgotten what it was like to have her in my mind. I can feel her relishing my horrified shock as if it is delicious. As if it feeds her.

  “You have to tell me what you’ve done,” I demand. “Storm is looking for Sergeant Lowry. He is going to find him.”

  Maybe he will, maybe he won’t. It doesn't matter to us anymore.

  “Does Sergeant Lowry know it was you? Did he see my face?”

  So what? she says sulkily.

  “So he is going to tell Storm. It is going to ruin my life! What is wrong with you?”

  You don’t have to worry about that, she says. Sergeant Lowry will be dead soon. Even if Storm does find him first, and he tells Storm everything, we don’t care.

  “I do care.”

  Really you don’t, she says slyly. It’s not like Storm will tell anyone. And we’ll have our payday and we can leave this place for good.

  I shake my head. “What are you talking about? If you haven’t killed Lowry already, how is he going to die? We have to stop it. We can’t let him die.”

  Of course we can let him die, she snaps. He deserves to suffer then die for what he’s done. He’s murdered six women. Five girls and Rachel Garrett. Why should he get to live when they are dead?

  “Six women?” I ask faintly. “You think he’s the Wolf-Claw Killer?”

  I know it. It has to be him.

  “So you’re not sure? You’ve arranged for a man to die and you don’t even know what he’s done?”

  We know he killed Rachel at the very least, and he wanted to imprison India, to force her to be his mate, his little pack-slave. That is enough for me. He deserves everything that is coming to him.

  “Not by my hand!” I say. “I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t want to be responsible for their deaths. You can’t do this to me.”

  It’s not by your hand, she says. It’s by my hand. And anyway, you wouldn’t be complaining if it was the Devil Claw Killer. You want him dead. Don’t pretend you don’t. I’m inside your head. I know you.

  “That’s different! He murdered my mothers. My adoptive mother and my biological mother. He is a monster.”

  Stephen Manners is a monster too, she says. Why should he get off any easier? This is what we do, Diana. Haven’t you been listening to me? I have told you we are the Angel of Death. We are the angel of retribution. Of vengeance. It’s who we are. Stop denying your true nature.

  “It is not who I am! Everything you’ve just said is words to me. I don’t want to murder Hank Lowry. I just want him caught. He can rot in prison for all I care. He can suffer there. He can think about what he’s done and repent.”

  Repent, she says in disgust. I don’t need him to repent. I need him t
o die. I need to know he’s suffered. Don’t you understand? Can’t you feel how I need it? I would have done it myself if she didn’t offer to pay me so well for letting her do it instead.

  “Who?” I say sharply. “Who was gonna pay you?”

  The alpha of his pack, she says smugly. Oh she is angry with him. She was so happy when I called her and told her that I had him. Stephen Manners turned into Hank Lowry. A whole new life. A clean slate. But he just couldn't keep his mitts clean. Once a naughty boy, always a naughty boy.

  “What did he do?” I ask.

  She wouldn’t say, but it made her angry. She is determined to see him dead. She wanted to kill him with her own hands. She and her pack are on the way already, now that I’ve told her where he is.

  “Where is he?” I ask urgently. “You don’t understand. Storm was looking for him. Storm will find him. We have to warn him that the pack is on the way. We can’t let him turn up there unprepared.”

  Oh stop your whinging, she says unconcernedly. I said you didn’t need to worry about Storm finding out what we did, because if Storm finds Lowry, Storm is as good as dead. It’s better this way. We get to have a clean getaway.

  “Are you mad?” I shriek. “This won’t happen. I won’t let it happen.”

  What’s done is done, she says.

  “No it’s not. It’s not done yet.”

  I get my phone to call Storm. She fights me. I feel her resisting in my mind, trying to seize control of my hand. But I am aware of her now, and she cannot keep me from dialing him.

  He does not answer, making my heart clench painfully. I leave him a voicemail, asking him to urgently call me back. Then I call Remi. She does not answer her phone either. My heart is racing when I hang up. They must be out in the field looking for Sergeant Lowry. And when they find him the wolf pack might already be there. The whole pack.

  The whole pack, says Alys smugly.

  “But the pack can’t hurt Storm or Remi,” I tell myself. “They wouldn’t dare hurt Agency people.”

  I can feel her shrugging in my head. They probably will, she says. If they get in her way. And you know Storm isn’t the type to get out of anybody’s way. A shame. What a waste of a sweet sweet bod.

  “We can’t let that happen,” I say, my voice steely with resolve. I will not let that happen.

  It’s probably already happening, she says casually. I only wish I was there to see it.

  “It is not going to happen,” I say. “Don’t you care about Storm? Don’t you care about Remi? They’re my friends!”

  We’ll get new friends. Better friends. Once we have all the money, we can have as many friends as we like. We won’t be stuck in this sad little life.

  “It’s not a sad life,” I tell her. “I like my friends. I like Storm and Remi and Monroe and Leo and Theo and Mozz. I care about them. I’m not going to let you run off somewhere. I’m in control of this body. I won’t let you take my life away from me. I would rather see us both locked up than let you do what you like with my body.”

  It’s my body too, she snaps. I live here too. You seem to think that you own it, but it is my turn now. You’ve already seen that I can do what I want.

  “If you can do what you want, why haven’t you done it all the time? Because you can’t. Because you know that I can stop you.”

  I can feel her coiling and uncoiling with anger in my mind. She knows that what I have said is true. She is trying to think of a way around it.

  “Did you hear what I said?” I say. “I’m going to have us both locked away if you don’t help me save Storm.”

  What’s in it for me? she demands. Why should I help you? What have you ever done for me?

  Nothing. And I can’t and won’t do anything for her. But I cannot tell her that.

  Time is ticking away. I pace the bathroom up and down, trying to think. Someone rattles the bathroom door handle. When they find it is locked they bang on it.

  “Go away!” I shout.

  I need to think. I need them to go away.

  The thought that Storm could be out there right now closing in on Sergeant Lowry and completely unaware that an entire werewolf pack is headed his way has me shaking. I should call him again. I should tell him that they are coming for him. But if I do that, he will know that I was involved. He will know that it was me.

  I pace frantically. I can’t call Storm. I can’t tell him it was me. Because then I’ll lose him forever. I don’t want to lose him. How am I going to explain to him that there is a little voice in my head that can take over my body? I’m going to sound insane. Why should he believe me? He’ll think I’m murderous and evil. The kind of monster he has devoted his life to hunting down and punishing. And he might be right. Part of me is murderous and evil. And I can’t even keep her under control.

  “What do you want?” I demand. “What do you want in exchange for helping me save Storm’s life?”

  I want a share of the control of this body, she says.

  “Fine,” I grind out through gritted teeth. She already has that. I can’t stop her. Clearly she can take over when I am tired, when I am sleeping, when I am weak. She can take over without my permission, and I can’t stop her. So what loss is it to agree to that? “Fine,” I say again, feeling defeated as I say it.

  An equal share.

  “Fine.”

  “And I need to kill,” she says.

  I give a hysterical laugh. I shake my head. “No. Absolutely not. You must be mad.”

  Not mad, she says. But I will be if I don’t kill someone soon. That’s what I am. We are the Angel of Death. We need to kill people. It’s a hunger inside us. It needs to be quenched. You may not feel it because you’ve split us in two, but I feel it. And I need it. And you do too.

  “Well you’re just going to have to learn to control it.”

  She laughs contemptuously. I can’t control it. And neither can you. If you don’t let me do what I need to do my way, then we’re going to do it somehow else. It is going to explode out of us. And you won’t like that. Because then people will find out what we’ve done. And you will lose all of your precious friends. They’ll think you’re a monster.

  “I’m not a monster.” I shake my head.

  We are a monster. We are the Angel of Death. I have told you a hundred times, and still you refuse to believe it. Why do you think the stupid amulet from your precious Theo didn’t work on us? We are no ordinary being. You’re not possessed. You are me. I am you. If you don’t allow us to work together, then this won’t work at all. I’ll start by helping you save Storm’s life. You know what I am. You know I can do it. I know exactly what to do, but it needs to happen now. There’s no way you’ll be able to save him if he is already closing in on Lowry. Because the pack will be waiting. You need me.

  “You can’t. I can’t let you kill people.”

  You can’t stop me.

  “I can. I can lock us both away.”

  You’ll be locking yourself away. You’ll lose all those precious friends that you love so much. You think that they’ll bother to come and visit you? They won’t put you in prison. You haven’t committed a crime yet. They’ll put you in an insane asylum. Just like Dr Carrington wanted to do. How do you think you’ll survive in there? A psychic in an insane asylum? Dreaming the dreams of the mad people. Knowing you’re the reason your beloved Storm is dead when you could have saved him? You will go insane.

  I am shaking. She is right. Without this amulet, the dreams will come back. They’re were bad enough already. But if I’m in an insane asylum they will be so much worse. I can’t cope with that. I cannot live through that.

  “I can’t let you kill,” I whisper.

  I’m not bad really, she says, almost playfully. I found India’s landlord. I got information from him, but I never killed him. And India, does it really matter that I tried to wipe her memory with that amulet? I never harmed her. It’s better than me killing her. And I could have killed her, because she knew about me. She could have
told you about me. She did tell you all about me. It was exactly what I was trying to prevent. And yet I never killed her. Because I don’t kill the innocent. Only the terrible. Only the truly bad.

  “I said no!”

  Just the bad people, she wheedles. Just the truly wicked. The murderers. The ones who deserve death. In exchange your Agent Storm gets to live. It’s a fantastic bargain. You get to see him again. You get to talk with him. You get to see him laugh. You get to see him live. I swear I’ll only kill the bad people.

  I close my eyes. The thought of never seeing Storm again is awful. The thought of him being dead incomprehensible. And yet how can I agree to this?

 

‹ Prev