Feral by Anne Berkeley Page B

thumb across the bristles, tapped it on the edge of the sink and then dropped it in the glass on the vanity.  I couldn’t help notice it was my toothbrush, the one I lifted from Jack’s house.  I wasn’t sure what to make of it.  Did he pilfer it in revenge for using his on the toilet?  If he did, he hit the mark, because I’d burn it before using it again.
    Aware that I had woken, Icarus’s eyes met mine in the mirror, catching me ogling.  His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but I saw it.  I brushed it off.  He wouldn’t need to worry about me much longer.  Soon enough, his domain would return to its normal activities.
    “You look as comfortable as a giraffe in a Lazy Boy.”
    Indeed, I did.  I had curled up as small as I could on the upholstered bench, though sometime during the night I had stretched my legs, and now they stuck out like stilts, one toward the floor, the other parallel with my body.  I sat up, stretching languorously from head to toe.
    “You could’ve slept in the bed.”
    “Didn’t sleep much anyways,” I mumbled, my voice thick with sleep.  “No point in both of us being up all night.”
    Nightmares plagued my sleep, which lasted for no longer than two-hour intervals.  I awakened panting and sweaty from anything between reliving Marcus’s attack to envisaging the bone shifting change that would claim me in a few nights time.  In others, Icarus and his cousins were dead while some faceless lycanthrope raped me amongst their bodies.  The last was a scene from AWIL where David sat talking to Jack in the theatre, only Bennie played Jack’s part and my parents were the stuffy British couple killed during their dinner party.  Mutilated and decaying, their undead corpses urged me to kill myself before I killed again.  With their images fresh in my mind, I spilled my resolve like a long awaited confession.
    “I changed my mind.  Turning into a monster every month, I don’t think I can handle it.  I might not ever have the control you displayed today.  The idea of harming or killing someone is abhorrent to me.  I can’t take the chance of losing control the way Marcus did.  And I think you’re right, Marcus isn’t a person I can put my trust into, knowing he doesn’t have that control himself.  And to be brutally honest, right now I hate his fucking guts.  That being said, I want…” closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and opened them again, “I want you to kill me.”
    “You’re serious.”
    “It wasn’t an easy decision, especially when every ounce of your being, every instinct tells you to live, but yes.  Yes, I’m every bit serious.”
    “And you don’t think you should discuss it with me?”
    “No, it’s my life.”
    “I’m doing the killing.  I think that entitles me to a say in this.”
    “No, it’s not the way I want to live.  You can’t make that choice for me.”
    “You won’t be a monster, Thaleia.  Feral, yes.  You’ll be slave to your instincts.  The baser side of the wolf will take over.  You’ll feel disoriented at first.  Often, when you wake, you might not remember things.  But in time, you’ll regain self-control.”
    Dropping my head into my hands, I rubbed my face, suppressing a groan.  “Why are you doing this?  You didn’t want me around and now you’re trying to talk me into staying.  You can’t pick and choose when to like me and not.”
    “Is that what this is about?”
    “It would be a lie if I said no, though it’s only partly the reason.   The rest, I’ve just explained.”
    “You have every right to be upset, but—”
    “Then I’m sure we won’t have any trouble coming to an agreement.”
    “Sit down,” he demanded, when I stood to leave.  Grinding my teeth, I sat, but only because he asked.  For some odd reason he didn’t use his imperious voic e.  “Contrary to your belief, I wasn’t speaking of killing you. You’re Marcus’s responsibility.  My intention was to leave you to his