“I have grown used to creeping.” He glides out of the shadows. His amber eyes catch the light and seem to glow. “I was enjoying watching.”
I snort. I bet he was. “It’s rude to spy on bathing women.”
He considers that for a moment. “The rules are different here.”
“There are no rules?”
“There are always rules, even if they aren’t spelled out.”
I turn to face him, still in the water, and wrap my arms around my knees. “Tell me some of them.”
“You already know the most important. That fighting and killing creates these changes.”
“Then why didn’t you stop?”
“Because I thought I was too far gone. I had lost too much and…look at me. I am less human thanHorn.” He rattles his tail for effect.
“Are you? Your changes are different, so how do you weigh your humanity against his?”
“Because he wants to help every stray he finds. A part of him has remained good.”
My skin chills even though the water is hot. “And you have nothing good left inside?”
“I thought I had nothing left inside at all, then you show up.” He snaps his fingers. “And I am blessed with a memory I’d rather forget.”
“I can’t explain that.” When did he remember…and what did he remember?
“Or Horn’s two human fingers.”
I shake my head. “I can only guess that he saw himself as less monstrous.”
Tail rears up. “Are you suggesting I did this to myself? That I want to be like this?”
I scramble back, even though it won’t make any difference. “No, but there has to be something for Under to latch onto, some part that has always believed that you are a monster, or you wouldn’t be here.Iwouldn’t be here.”
“I guess when you are told often enough that you are a pussy, then you believe it.” He coils back onto his tail. “That’s what my father called me. A pussy because I was being bullied at school for wearing the thick glasses I needed, and I cried about it. He gave me something else to cry about.” He touches the red stripes on his fur. “These stripes are the marks he left on me.”
“He’s the monster, not you.” What kind of parent hits their kid for crying?
He laughs. “I guess he never saw himself that way.”
“I’m sorry, that’s the only memory you have.” I have happy ones to hold on to. But when I try to find them, they are tinged with something else. The good times with my boyfriend, ex-boyfriend, are now colored by his betrayal. Growing up in the big old house with Gran is filled with the shadows of monsters that were her obsession. Some days, I made myself toast for dinner and went to bed while she worked.
Primary school was horrible. I was the kid with the missing parent, the one who’d jump at everything and when I did go on a sleepover at friends’ houses, I had to keep checking under the bed. The kids were merciless.
High school was better because I learned how to fit in and I became popular and cool. I had a good story about the scars and my missing mother. I acted like I didn’t care and built up a hard shell so no one could see the real me.
But Bret saw through it, and he chipped away until he could hurt me.
The friends that I let fall away were right about him. He didn’t love me; all he saw was someone he could use, and I let him because I was desperate to be wanted. I stare at the water, now like glass because I’ve been sitting still.
I’m still letting men use me. Horn and Tail don’t want me or need me. They don’t even like me. I am an inconvenience. I should leave.
I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thought.
“No!” My voice echoes.
Tail watches me. “It gets into your head. Soon you won’t be able to determine what memory is real, and what is something you created to entertain yourself. Then they start to vanish.”