Page 44 of Monster Queen Rising

The moment I see him, Mary's hand is back in mine.

The gunshot.

The second one.

The blood.

My knees go soft. Thaw catches me before I hit the porch.

His arms come around me hard, holding me against his chest while I shake.

"Hey."

I can't stop hearing it.

The shot.

Mary's eyes.

The silence after.

I press my face into his shirt.

"I know," he says quietly. "I know."

He lets me cry until the shaking eases.

"I'm glad you had time with Dean," he says. "You needed that."

His hand slides up my cheek.

“Who’s blood is this?”

"Mara's. She's alive. She's inside."

He nods. Then he looks at me longer.

"You've still got too much locked inside."

I don't answer. He eases me back enough to look at my face.

"Come with me."

He takes a dirt road to a clearing on the bank of the river — wide and slow and dark, the trees down to the water. He stops the truck.

I get out.

I walk to the bank. The blood on my forearm is dark in the starlight. The slate is up, the voice sitting in my throat where it's been since the operatives came through that door.

I let it come.

The slate goes across all of me. Arms. Chest. Legs. Face. My canines come full. The dark turns silver. Every branch sharpens.

I fill the clearing with my anguish. It isn't aimed at anyone. It's just me, all of me. I lift my hands. The blood on them is mine and not mine.

Mary's.

Mara's.