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And I didn’t make it any
easier. I’m sorry about everything.”
    “You don’t need to apologize. That’s all in
the past. Focus on staying strong, on fighting this.”
    “I’m trying, Tay, really, but I’m tired.” As
if to prove it, his eyelids drooped. It scared me and I squeezed
his hand. His lids fluttered open again. “Can I ask you
something?”
    “What is it?” I asked.
    “If I become a Werewolf, especially the
monster kind that Fee says I might, will you have to kill me?”
    “Absolutely not going to happen,” I
said.
    “But if it does.”
    “No. I’m not going to let that happen. I
would never hurt you. You’re my family too, you know.”
    His eyes closed again. His mouth turned up
at the corners and he squeezed my hand lightly. “I’m glad you’re
back, Tay,” he said. “It feels better with you here.”
    “Good, because I’m staying close until we
figure this out. I won’t let anything happen, I promise.”
    “I know you won’t.”
    George’s breathing slowed and became even. I
watched the steady rise and fall of his chest while my own heart
hammered. I didn’t love George, at least not the way I’d thought I
did a year ago, but my feelings for him as a friend were deep,
immovable. I wasn’t willing to lose him. Not when we’d just begun
to fix our friendship. I’d do anything to keep him alive.
    “You’re worrying. I can feel it.” I jumped
at the sound of his voice. His hand tightened in mine and his mouth
twitched at the corners. He cracked an eye. “See?”
    “Just trying to figure out a way to stop
this,” I said, gesturing at him with my free hand.
    His expression turned serious. “I don’t
think we can stop it. We’ve slowed it, but that might be all we can
do. I’m okay with that.”
    “You can’t be okay with that. You’ll
die.”
    “I’ve had time to think about the
possibility. I’ve accepted it, if it means not becoming a monster.”
He waited a beat and then said, “Maybe you should accept it
too.”
    “No.”
    “Tay—”
    “I’ll give you my blood before that happens.
Miles said—”
    “No way.” He shook his
head. “Fee told me enough about Miles to know that’s crazy. He was crazy. We can’t
trust him.”
    “I’m not going to let you die,” I said.
Tears sprang to my eyes, and I blinked them back.
    His expression softened. “Come here.”
    I leaned down into his open arms and curled
against his side. Heat issued through the blankets. My tears
thickened. I pressed my face against his ribs and let them
come.
    “Please don’t cry.”
    “I can’t help it. It’s my fault. If I’d just
killed Miles in that warehouse, this never would’ve happened.”
    “It’s not your fault. You’re not responsible
for another person’s actions. And you didn’t kill Miles because
you’re not a killer. It’s not who you are.”
    George had no idea. Maybe it hadn’t been
premeditated, but I was a killer. Starting with Liliana the night
George and I broke up and ending with the massacre of hybrids at
school last month. I’d seen the carnage. I knew what I was capable
of, even if no one else suspected.
    I sniffled harder.
    George pulled me close and kissed the top of
my head. I tensed. “I’m really glad we’re friends again,” I said
pointedly.
    “Me too,” he said and the conviction in his
voice put me at ease. “I know we’ve had a rocky few months. It’s
nice to have my best friend back.”
    We lay in silence for a while after that. I
let myself enjoy the steady rhythm of George’s breathing as my mind
wandered to possible solutions. The problem was I knew so little
about Werewolves and what made them that I had no idea where to
begin to look for a cure.
    He shifted his head toward me and began
humming. The notes were scratchy and flat but I recognized the tune
instantly. Even when we’d dated, our song had been a secret—for
George’s sake. The song’s significance stemmed from a home video of
George has a toddler, singing