Wayward Son by Rainbow Rowell

Author:Rainbow Rowell [Rowell, Rainbow]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

I can’t be alone right now. I follow along after them, from a respectful distance.

I’ve known about Baz’s vampirism for at least a year—and Simon suspected for years before that—but Baz is still self-conscious about it. He won’t ever feed in front of us. He won’t even eat a sandwich if he thinks you’re watching. Simon says it’s because Baz’s fangs pop, and he’s embarrassed, so I always look away. (Though I would love to get a better look at them, for scientific purposes.)

I know Baz casts spells sometimes, to lure in his prey. But today he doesn’t have to. There’s a large wild cat, crouched on the ground ahead of us. I wait for Baz to strike.

Instead he stamps his feet, shouting at it. “Go! Away!”

The cat startles and runs away from us.

“What on earth?” I say. “Do you prefer it when they play hard to get?”

“I don’t kill predators,” he says.

“Why not? Fellow feeling?”

“They’re too important to the ecosystem. Besides, there are sheep around here, of some sort. I saw tracks.”

He leads us deeper into the trees. “I could manage this perfectly well on my own, you know,” he mutters.

“Yeah, yeah,” Simon whispers. “You’re well fierce.”

Baz glances back, frowning. “I am.”

It’s darker here. We’re pushing through evergreen branches—and there’s a fog hanging at our knees. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that even trees would be different in America. Simon and I have spent plenty of time wandering around in woods back home. But never woods like these.

Baz stops. He’s caught a scent.

He runs forward, faster than Simon and I can keep up, and more graceful than we could dream. When we do catch up, Baz is kneeling at the edge of the stream, a horned sheep dead in his lap, both of them blanketed in mist. I think he’s broken its neck.

“All right,” he says. “Give me a minute.”

I look down. The fog is up to my chest, and it’s so dark. I hold up my ring.

“Poaching…” someone says. It sounds like a woman. And it feels like she’s saying it inside of me. The darkness has risen up over my chin. “Bloodeater poaching on my very back.” The voice—I swear it’s in my head—sounds English. Northern.

“We can explain!” Baz calls out. He must hear it, too.

“We didn’t know!” I shout.

Simon takes my hand. “We’re not from around here!”

“No,” the voice says. “Can see that. Can smell that.… You are something different. Not just bloodeaters. Something much more foul…”

I close my eyes and cast into the murk—“Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

“Mages,” the voice says, scornfully.

And then the darkness swallows me.

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