Drawing Blood

Chapter Twenty-three

I shook my head, confused. It was another plot twist I hadn't expected. "I... I don't understand."

Adam rose then, crossing the room swiftly, stopping at the window to peer out into the night. It was as though he found it easier to speak to an audience of strangers, rather than me. I wondered what I had done for him to move, whether I'd been too harsh on him; unable to mask my disdain for his behaviour, despite my best efforts. He cut a lonely figure standing there, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. I was ashamed to admit, I missed his presence.

"I work for a man called Stefan Alberg," he confessed, his voice a whisper. "Before that, I ran with Devlin and his pack."

My gasp was audible, and he glanced at me over his shoulder. "It was a while ago," he reassured me. "And not long after Dan. But Stefan and I have been working together for a few years now, hoping to bring Devlin down with the information I know."

He was hidden in the shadows, as I had been, before all of this; the light not quite reaching him. From the street he must have looked a formidable entity, a looming presence. I could only stare at him, picturing the people outside, rushing home to avoid the storm; casting their gaze in his direction, thinking he was lucky to be inside, and safe. They knew nothing about what he was, or what he was telling me. They knew nothing about what lay on the other side of the glass. And I was suddenly envious of them.

"Are...are you saying you're a spy?"

"I'm saying I was a spy." He paused, and I suspected he was wrestling with his inner demons, torn between revealing more, or leaving things as they were. "I barely escaped, to be honest," he admitted. "I was lucky they never tore me apart when they found out."

"Would they do that?"

"Are you kidding? They're dangerous. Ruthless, even." It was his turn to shake his head now, and I felt silly for asking. "I discovered what Devlin had planned, and I took that information to Stefan," he told me. "Only, it wasn't long before Devlin discovered my little secret, and ordered me to kill someone. He did it to test my loyalty, but I refused. The scars you saw were the result."

My head began to swim, and it wasn't the alcohol. I thought back to this morning. It seemed ages ago, now. "What were you doing with Devlin, in the first place?"

He sighed. It was a heavy sigh, ladened with shame and guilt. "When Dan bit me, I became a part of him," he spoke, "and when that happens, you know what the other is thinking, what their next move is. That's how we create packs, it's how we hunt. It's how we survive."

My eyes widened on him. "You mean, you can hear each other's thoughts?"

"Sometimes, yes. It depends if you've created that wolf." He broke off to stroke a ragged hand across his jaw, thinking. "That's how I know that day was never an accident, because he'd shown me what he had planned. I'd seen it in his head."

He went silent on me once more, and returned to staring out at his audience. From where I sat, I could just make out his outline; the headlamps from passing cars, illuminating him from head to toe as they drove past, before he fell away again. It was as though I was seeing him through a different lens, a Polaroid that had been taken of him; left to discolour, and peel in the sun. He was a man who had been forced to survive day by day, no longer the boy who'd had his entire life ahead of him.

"I was determined not to be a part of Dan's pack, and so it meant going it alone - which is like death to a wolf, even when it's your own decision," he muttered, sensing my gaze burning a hole in his back. "I lost everything in the process, and you never really recover from that. That's how wolves like Ava can get into your psyche."