Falter Page 6

  I didn’t want to worry about this anymore. I looked around the playground, hoping something would catch my eye and distract me.

  Instead, I just saw all the other parents sitting on the benches, standing in groups, leaning against strollers. There were a few other fathers around, but for the most part, they were all young women. They wore sweatpants and crumpled shirts, their faces scrubbed free of makeup. They weren’t here to impress anyone. They were completely focused on their children.

  I liked that. I was one of those guys who didn’t much see the point of makeup. It made girls look like themselves—only painted. I kind of didn’t get the point. Plus, there were people who took it way too far, caking their face with all this product until they looked like circus clowns. I’d be happy enough if no one wore makeup at all.

  I thought about what the world would be like if it were filled with fresh-faced women. It would be nice. During the solar flare, Azazel never wore makeup. But she did now, no matter how many times I told her I preferred the way she looked without it.

  “No, you don’t,” she would say. “I look like ass without makeup.”

  Admittedly, she didn’t wear that much makeup normally, so I let it slide. But I still thought she’d never looked more beautiful than back then. I remembered seeing her face for the first time in Jasontown, back when she didn’t know who she was. She was the most gorgeous thing I’d ever seen, and I was so glad to have her back.

  Back in Jasontown, no one wore makeup, in fact.

  These women would have all fit in there just fine. I’d kind of wanted Jasontown to last longer than it had, long enough for there to be lots of new babies, and a whole generation of people growing up there. I was crazy back then. I was controlling all those people’s minds, taking away their free will. It was wrong, and I know that. But the idea of a place where people worked together and lived in harmony was still a good one.

  Maybe I could still do something like that, just through better means. If I didn’t force people to follow me but instead convinced them. I wondered if I could do that. Did I have the ability to lead people, or had all of that just been my powers?

  I peered around at the women, imagining all of them looking up at me adoringly while I told them about my hopes for a community of peace and togetherness. I imagined them doing whatever I said, whatever I wanted.

  And suddenly, it was all blood.

  I was cutting them, hacking them, strangling them, hurting them. They were screaming, and I was laughing at them. And it felt good. God, it felt so good to let it all out—

  I stood up from the bench.

  Fuck.

  So, I should know better. Jasontown was never about helping people, not really. It was about me. Always about my having people to manipulate. To hurt. To kill.

  I stalked through the playground, looking for Chance. I couldn’t handle being here anymore. We were going to have to cut this trip short.

  He wasn’t on the slide anymore. I turned in a circle in between the swings and the monkey bars, my gaze darting everywhere, hoping to catch sight of him.

  A touch on my shoulder. “Did you lose yours?”

  I turned to see one of the fresh-faced mothers. She had freckles on her nose, and she was just a little bit chubby. She was adorable. I imagined what it would be like to grab her by the neck and pushed her face down against the ground.

  I backed away from her, shaking my head.

  And then I saw Chance. He was in the sandbox, a group of little girls all sitting in front of him.

  I walked over to him, and I heard what he was saying.

  “...so, I’ll be the king, and you’ll all be my subjects, which means you have to do whatever I say.”

  I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him upright. “What are you playing?”

  He looked up at me in shock. “Daddy?”

  I pulled him away from the others. “We’re leaving.”

  “But we were just starting to pretend that the playground was a castle, and I was the king—”

  “You’re not a king,” I snapped. “You don’t tell everyone what to do, okay? You can’t do that. That’s not how life works.”

  He shrank from me.

  And I realized that a few of the other people in the park were staring at me. I was making a spectacle of myself, and I was scaring my son for no reason. I dragged a hand over my face, feeling defeated.

  “Hey,” I said in a soft voice. “We just gotta go, okay?”

  He nodded. “Okay.” But he still looked confused and hurt.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ~azazel~

  I had just gotten back to the mansion after spending the day at headquarters. I felt really bad about the way things were going between Jason and me, and I wanted to talk to him. I was currently wandering through the halls looking for him. Marlena and Hallam hadn’t seen him. Mina and Chance were out somewhere doing a mother-son dinner outing. Jude and Boone were still back at headquarters as far as I knew. And Jason was nowhere in sight.

  I checked Grace’s room, knocking on her door. “Hey, Grace?”

  “Go away!” Her voice was thick with tears.

  Oh, crap. Another teenage meltdown. “I’m just looking for Jason.”

  “Azazel?” Her tone changed. The door opened. She was wiping at her face. “I really need to talk to you.”

  Well, I was trying to patch things up with Jason, but if she needed me, then I had to be there for her. “Okay.”

  She motioned me into her room, shutting the door after us. “I think Jason went to the gym, incidentally.”

  He wasn’t even around to talk to. That figured. He was big on running from his problems. I settled down on the chair at Grace’s desk, which was covered with her school books. “So, what’s up?”

  She threw herself face down on her bed. “It’s awful.” Her voice was muffled.

  “What’s awful?”

  “Boone.”

  Of course it was about Boone. Though I guessed I really shouldn’t judge. After all, I was roaming around trying to find my boyfriend, and it seemed there was never-ending drama in our lives. “What did he say now?”

  She rolled over, pulling a pillow with her. “He didn’t say anything.”

  I waited. “Okay.” So, then what was the problem.

  She squeezed the pillow like she was suffocating it. “He went on a date. With another girl. A senior girl. Someone his age.” And then Grace burst into fresh tears.

  I waited while she sobbed, making soothing noises, wondering what I should say. I decided information gathering was the best approach. “Are you sure it was a date?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know?”

  She sat up. Her eyes were red rimmed. She was still crying. “Because I heard what she said when she showed up here. And she said, ‘I was so surprised you asked me on a date.’”

  “Okay,” I said. “So, he asked another girl out. But she was surprised about it, so they can’t be serious yet.”

  “No,” said Grace. “No one’s serious on a first date. But it’s the first step, isn’t it?”

  I sighed. “I guess so.” Poor Grace.

  “He doesn’t even like me,” she said.

  “He likes you,” I said. “But he doesn’t seem to want—”

  “He doesn’t like me the way I like him,” she said.

  I wasn’t sure about that. I was fairly sure that Boone did like Grace. A lot. I thought he was simply unsure about dating a girl that was so much younger than him. And I had to admit that there were reasons why the age difference could be a problem, especially at their age. But, really, it wasn’t that big of an age difference. Part of the problem was that Grace wasn’t aging anymore, considering she’d technically died. Boone never had, so he was still aging. That meant that Grace looked only about thirteen, even if she was fifteen. I thought that Boone had a hard time realizing that she was actually growing up.

  It didn’t seem fair. I could reverse my age by drinking blood. It s
eemed like there should be some way for Grace to speed hers up a bit.

  Now that I thought about it, there had to be a way. Because Jason had been shot and killed when he was seventeen, and he’d continued to age. I was pretty sure he’d even grown taller.

  “What are you thinking?” said Grace.

  “I was thinking about how you don’t seem to have aged since you died, and how that might make it hard for Boone to realize how old you actually are.”

  “You think that’s what it is?”

  “He wants to protect you,” I said. “I think he’s worried that he’ll hurt you in some way.”

  “Well, he is,” said Grace. “He’s hurting me right now. And he doesn’t seem to care about that.” She squeezed her pillow again. “Sometimes I hate him. I hate him so much.”

  * * *

  ~jason~

  I came back from a drive with my duffel bag. I’d attempted to go to the gym, but I hadn’t been able to handle it, and I’d left. I’d been afraid that I would run into the woman who’d recognized me again.

  Azazel was in our bedroom. I hadn’t expected to see her. I set my duffel bag down on the floor inside the room.

  She was already in her pajamas—a fitted white tank top and a pair of baggy drawstring pants. She looked up from the book she was reading when I walked in.

  “You’re home,” I said. She hadn’t spent a night at the mansion in days.

  She set down her book. “Hey, baby. How was the gym?”

  So we were pretending that everything was okay between us? I shrugged. “It was fine.”

  She sat up straight, tucking her feet underneath her body. She patted the bed next to her. “I, um, want to fix this.”

  Oh. So, we weren’t pretending. She sure did keep me on my toes. I sat down next to her. “I want that too.”

  She took a deep breath. “Okay, good. Then we should be able to do that, shouldn’t we?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’m sorry about what I told Chance. I didn’t realize it would upset you so much.”

  I studied my fingernails. “Mina says I was overreacting. She says that it’s normal for boys Chance’s age to play violent games.”

  “I still should have been more sensitive to you,” she said. “I should have realized you wouldn’t want that for him.”

  I looked up at her. “Azazel, you don’t think that... personality traits can be genetic, do you?”

  She cocked her head to one side. “What do you mean?”

  “I took Chance to the park today, and he was playing this game where he was the king. He had this group of little girls all gathered around him, waiting for him to give them orders.”

  She giggled. “How adorable.”

  “Is it?” I said. “It doesn’t remind you of, say, Jasontown?”

  She shook her head. “No, you’re reaching, Jason. Kids play games. It doesn’t mean anything. You’re thinking about Jasontown because you saw that woman, that’s all.”

  Was that the only reason? I didn’t think so. Lately, I’d been thinking a lot about the kind of power I used to have. The things I used to be able to do to people. I missed it.

  She put a hand on my thigh. “Do you think you can tell me about her? What you couldn’t say before?”

  “I... I don’t know.” I wasn’t sure if I knew how to explain it. “So you think I’m worrying about nothing with Chance?”

  “He’s a little boy. The sweetest little boy of all time, as a matter of fact. There isn’t an ounce of badness in him anywhere.”

  I nodded. She was right. She had to be right.

  We were quiet.

  She rubbed my leg. “You still haven’t told me about that woman.”

  “Azazel—”

  “You know, if you were attracted to her, it’s okay. I’m sorry I flipped out about that. I guess I have these stupid insecurities, because I used to have to share you with all those women at Jasontown.”

  I grasped her wrist and looked her in the eye. “Was there another woman in my bed besides you after you showed up there? Was there?”

  She pulled her hand back. “I guess not.”

  “So, you didn’t share me.”

  “But you had them. You had a group of women—”

  “Not for sex, not exactly.” I got up off the bed. “Maybe sometimes for sex, but mostly for... power.” I didn’t want to tell her about this. I wandered over to her dresser and picked up a framed picture of the two of us when we were younger. Azazel was tucked against me, clutching me and gazing up at me. I was looking at her too, my arm wrapped around her waist. We were both grinning. “What if I told you that... lately... I’ve been thinking about doing that kind of stuff to women?”

  “What kind of stuff?”

  “Hurting them.”

  “Like what you did to me a few weeks ago?”

  I set down the picture. “Yeah. Sort of.”

  “Is that what you did to the concubines, Jason? You played rough with them in bed? Is that why Lori was always bruised?”

  I looked at her. “No, it’s not the same. We were playing games, you and me. It wasn’t serious. I don’t like hurting you.”

  “You strangled me to death while you were fucking me, Jason.” Her voice was cold. “You’re saying you want to do worse things to other women? What’s worse than killing someone?”

  “You’re not dead,” I said. “You can’t die.”

  “You’re not answering my question. What’s worse?”

  I didn’t want to tell her about it. “I’d do it slower, I guess. And I’d use... tools. Maybe whips or knives or... I don’t know. She’d be naked, but it wouldn’t be because I wanted her, it would be to make sure she was powerless and frightened, and I’d want her to cry or beg me or—”

  “Stop.” Her voice quavered.

  I looked at her. I couldn’t read her expression. I looked away.

  She got up off the bed. She came to me. She rubbed my back. “Jason, I think maybe you should start coming on missions with me.”

  I backed away from her touch. “Why are you bringing that up? After what I just said, don’t you want to get away from me?”

  “No,” she said. “I tried that. I love you.”

  “But—”

  “I’ve seen your dark side, Jason.”

  “I don’t think you have.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Seriously?”

  “I mean, I don’t think you understand how deep it goes. How much I... like it.”

  “No, I think I do,” she said. “And that’s why I think that having something to kill, something that you were allowed to kill, might help.”

  “I’m fantasizing about killing people, and you think actually doing it is going to help?”

  “Killing people who capture Nephilim and steal their blood is better than carving up some helpless redhead, isn’t it?”

  I swallowed. “How can you be so calm about this? Why aren’t you horrified by me?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. I used to be. But I’m older now, and things just aren’t as black and white as they used to be. I choose you, Jason Wodden, no matter what your issues are. And I accept you. Even the horrifying parts. So, once I’ve done that, it’s just a matter of trying to figure out how to, you know, manage those parts.”

  “I don’t accept this,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t accept this.”

  I left the room.

  She came after me. “Wait.”

  “Don’t,” I told her. “Don’t come after me.” I stalked down the hallway.

  * * *

  The door opened, and Boone came in. He quietly shut the front door after himself.

  I was sitting on the steps. I’d been sitting there for a long time now, maybe hours. I knew I should go back to Azazel. I should be grateful that she was so accepting of me, that she didn’t find me abhorrent. But I didn’t want to kill people, and I wanted her to tell me that I was okay, and that I wouldn’t do it, not to accept my violence as a fact to be �
��managed.”

  If she did say that I was normal, I’d argue with her. I wouldn’t believe her. But for some reason, I just felt like she’d given up on me.

  “Jason,” said Boone.

  “Hi,” I said. Boone and I had a pretty tentative relationship. I wasn’t as close to him as Azazel was, mostly because I stayed out of the vampire-killing business. But I liked him well enough. He seemed like a good kid.

  “Uh, what are you doing?”

  I stood up. “Nothing. I got in argument with Azazel.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Well, I guess it’s a good sign that you guys are speaking again.”

  “We didn’t stop speaking,” I said.

  He shrugged. “Okay. But she’s been staying at headquarters. I guess I assumed you guys were going through something.”

  I sighed. “We’re going to be fine. We’ve been through worse stuff.”

  “Yeah?” Boone considered. “That must be a cool feeling. Secure.”

  It was. I nodded. “Yeah. It is.” I ran my hand through my hair. “You, um, coming back from headquarters?”

  “Nah, I was on a date,” he said.

  “A date?” I peered around him. “Not with Grace? I thought you and her were, you know, together.”

  Boone’s shoulders slumped. “No.”

  “Are you guys fighting?”

  “No, it’s not like that.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “You ever, um, want to be with someone, but know deep down that you wouldn’t be good for her? That you’d probably hurt her?”

  Did I…? That was the story of my life. “Yeah, I know that feeling, Boone.”

  He looked up at the ceiling. “You think I could maybe talk to you?”

  I shrugged. “Why not?” I gestured to the living room.

  We trooped inside. I sat down on a couch, and Boone settled on an armchair.

  “Me,” I said, “I’m bad for everyone. I’m like a violent psycho.”

  “You’ve always been nice to me,” he said.

  Well, that was a rousing endorsement, I supposed. I sat back on the couch. “What horrible thing do you think you’re going to do to Grace?”

  “She’s like a kid,” he said. “She had this crush on me forever, but I didn’t crush back. Not at first. But then, over time, I started to feel...” He shook his head. “You know, it’s not even me, though. Those fucks who locked us up screwed with my head. They made me care about her, and...”