Eden whirled around to face a warrior she hadn't met.

She kicked out at him with her right leg and he wrapped his hands around her foot, twisting her towards him. Her body responded fluidly, her torso pushing up so her left leg flew at his head, her foot cracking against his skul . Her body turned through the air and she landed on the ground with the grace of a cat. She'd dazed the warrior but not enough.

She never saw his fist move but she felt the impact of it connecting with her gut, the breath whooshing out of her as if she'd fal en from three storeys onto her back. The hunger roared at Eden to take him but she shook it off. She didn't have time. She doubled over, as if she were in agony, and felt the warrior step closer. Her right hand flew up without even looking at him and her knuckles stung as they connected with his jaw. He stumbled and Eden straightened and delivered an uppercut with her left fist. The warrior's grunt was fol owed by his knee slamming into her gut as he regained his balance.

She barely felt the impact of the blow this time, realising this man wasn't nearly as powerful as Emma.

He was Neith.

For some reason that knowledge gave her confidence and strength.

She threw him a feral grin and lunged at him, using his own knee as a platform to spring up on, to deliver a deafening crack to his face with her left knee cap.

Eden jumped off of him just as he col apsed on the ground with a thud.

Barely out of breath, she turned and ran down the corridor. She was almost there.

Almost there.

And then he appeared.

Sliding to a stop, Eden's whole being flinched at the sight of Noah guarding the door. Her hunger screamed.

"Eden." He held up his hands just as his mother had.

"Stop."

"I locked your mother in the bas.e.m.e.nt," she told him coldly, her fingers sliding down and brushing the handle of the dagger. Noah's eyes flared at the sight of his mother's weapon on her and she saw the brief flicker of panic in them. She snorted. "Don't worry, she's fine. I compel ed her to let me go."

Noah's jaw dropped; an expression unfamiliar with his face. "You what?" She shifted uneasily. "I compel ed her."

He shook his head. "Not possible."

She shrugged, ignoring the disquiet that settled around her at the awed and slightly wary look he was now giving her. "What can I tel you." Immediately, Noah's gaze drifted down so their eyes weren't locked. Smart boy.

Eden growled, "Let me go, Noah."

Instead of acquiescing he walked slowly towards her.

Eden refused to back up. "I can't, Eden. Please just take a minute and think. You know we're not trying to hurt you."

A bitter scoff huffed out of her. "Oh yeah, I real y got that when you murdered Stel an."

"Romany is being punished for that. Everyone had direct orders not to hurt Stel an, Eden. It was never supposed to happen."

"I don't believe you."

"Eden-"

"STOP SAYING MY NAME!" She screamed. It was a mistake. She heard the sounds of footsteps from upstairs and from the back of the house. She panicked.

One minute the dagger was in the pouch, the next it was in Noah's stomach. He bowed a little as the weapon plunged into his bel y, his eyes flaring in shock as they col ided with Eden's. The violet in them darkened to purple with disbelief.

Eden felt his warm blood trickle onto her hand and she gazed into his eyes with horror. What had she done ? Oh my G.o.d, what did I do? She choked on a sob as she tugged the blade back out, the dagger slipping from her hands to the floor. It seemed to last forever that moment with Noah in the hal way. Two friends turned betrayers.

It was only seconds.

"I'm a monster, Noah," she whispered.

Seeing his shock dissipate and his strength return, Eden knew she couldn't hang around any longer.

He was just reaching for her with b.l.o.o.d.y fingers when she blew right past him and out of the door.

Chapter Twenty.

Running From You... or Me?

Eden was faster than even she had realised. She successful y escaped the rented house, running around the neighbourhood in circles for a while to throw off the warriors who had taken off after her. She wasn't familiar with the town but she saw a sign that said Denton and knew it was just a town over from Salton. Surmising that the warriors would head over to the bus depot first to check on her, Eden decided to use the energy she had left and fol ow the highway back to Salton. She wasn't going home. They would be watching.

Anyway she didn't think she could bear to look at the place where Stel an's life had been taken.

Running through the woods was therapeutic in a way.

Each pound of her foot and tremor through her leg somehow stomped the guilt, the grief and her hunger into the background. Her muscles were burning, like a screw that had been turned too tight, but she relished it. She even relished the swel ing agony of Emma's too smal boots.

By the time Eden made it back to Salton and into town, she was sweating more than she had ever sweated in her life. She also looked insane in the pyjama bottoms and t-shirt.

Ignoring the bewildered stares from pa.s.sers-by, Eden headed to Charlotte's, a thrift store Celine had refused to let her go into. It was bad enough Eden was obsessed with black, but at least it was designer black. It kil ed Celine if Eden bought something that cost less than a hundred bucks. She hated it when Eden wore t-shirts she got online for cheap.

Eden winced.

What an ode to her mother and father's parenting skil s that she felt nothing at their loss.

Then again, according to Cyrus, Celine wasn't her mother and her father had raped her real mother just so he...

Eden squeezed her eyes shut. Actual y, Cyrus hadn't gotten around to the reason why Ryan had deliberately raped an Ankh. To be honest, she no longer cared. She flexed the hand that had wounded Noah. She was desensitized to horror.

Limbs shaking, Eden strol ed into Charlotte's and began raking through the racks.

Quickly she picked out a t-shirt, sweater, jeans, socks, sneakers and a raincoat. The t-shirt and jeans were kind of cool but everything else was a little blah. Not like it mattered. She hurried over to the counter where Charlotte, a thirty-something single mother sat in a stool reading Stephen King's Misery.

"That's my favourite," Eden told her quietly, pointing at the book as Charlotte glanced up.

Charlotte smiled, putting it down. "Gosh, I didn't hear anyone come in I was so engrossed."

"The movie's good too."

"Yeah?" Charlotte's smile grew. "I'l have to check that out. Wel , what have we here?" She began ringing the clothes through and suddenly clocked what Eden was wearing. "Honey, you OK?" she asked quietly, her eyebrows coming together in concern at the sight of Eden in her pyjamas.

"I'm fine," Eden tried not to snap. "How much?"

"Hmm. OK, that's thirty eight dol ars."

"Wow." Eden smirked and handed over forty dol ars. Talk about a bargain.

Charlotte's fingers brushed hers as she took the money, the warmth shooting like an arrowhead of fire into Eden's chest and setting the hunger ablaze. A growl erupted out of Eden as she s.n.a.t.c.hed mindlessly for Charlotte's wrist.

"Hey!" The shop owner shouted in fright, trying to tug out of her grasp. "What's your problem?!"

The struggle only taunted the hunger and Eden laughed; a throaty sick laugh that didn't seem to belong to her. As her left hand wrapped around Charlotte's throat and pul ed her towards Eden, her torso col apsed over the counter and her face a breath from Eden's, Eden felt as if she were watching it play out from a great distance. As if she wasn't real y a part of the attack.

Charlotte choked, her face turning a reddish-purple colour, and Eden fought with the hunger to relax its grip on her throat.

"Please," Charlotte croaked.

Stop it! Eden screamed at herself, struggling with this need that had grown so powerful and out of control.

You'll feel better. You'll be stronger. You won't feel so crazy anymore.

Her eyes focused on Charlotte's mouth. Maybe just a taste. I wouldn't have to kill her.

Yeah. That would be OK.

Eden leaned forward, her lips grazing Charlotte's as this pul ripped apart inside of her, this vortex of power, reaching up through her like fingers of sticky black tar; anything caught in its ma.s.s would be pul ed back down inside of her.

This was it.

This was it.

The door to the shop chimed and she heard laughter. It took more strength than Eden knew she had to let go of the thing inside of her and shove it back down from whence it came. She shook uncontrol ably as she relaxed her hold on Charlotte.

"Nothing happened. I brought clothes over. Paid for them.

I told you to keep the change."

"Nothing happened. You brought clothes over. Paid for them. You told me to keep the change."

Eden let go just as a voice cal ed behind. "Hey Charlotte, you OK?" She turned to face the worried young guy and girl, who stood staring at Eden suspiciously. They were dressed in ragged t-shirts and jeans, their hair long and scruffy.

Very cliched thrift store shoppers.

"Of course," Charlotte replied brightly. "How are you guys?"

"Good," the guy replied, stil eyeing Eden warily.

Eden gave him a blank look that seemed to make him uncomfortable. She turned to Charlotte and grabbed the paper bag of clothes she'd just bought. "Thanks."

"Oh, you're welcome, honey."

In store, al Eden felt was fury that she had been interrupted, that she hadn't been able to finish what would end this feeling inside her. She was feeling like a frickin'

schizophrenic and was sick of it.

But as soon as she hit the bus depot and was inside the ladies bathroom changing into her clothes, reality came crashing back in. She sagged against the tiled wal and closed her eyes, breathing in and out to control the wave of nausea that hit her. She'd done it again.

She had nearly kil ed someone. She imagined someone finding Charlotte's dead body, the Stephen King novel she had been reading discarded, never to be finished by her. Al the smal things in life that made it what it was and Eden had nearly taken that from someone.

Horrified, she struggled to breathe.

This time it had been close.

Too close.

You're going to have to do it sometime, Eden. Or you'll die.

"Then maybe I'l die," she said out loud. Like a crazy person.

The hunger laughed at her. Easy to have those kind of convictions when you're alone with no human souls tempting you.

Ignoring the monster within, Eden finished up in the bathroom and bought a bus ticket to Detroit. It was al she could real y afford and at least in the city she could hide.

The bus ride itself was not fun. It wasn't packed with people, but she ended up curling up into a bal in the back of the bus, taking as few breaths as possible and holding her hands over her ears so she couldn't hear the humans.

So they couldn't tempt her.

In an effort to control the need, she resorted to masochism, cal ing on the image of her brother's death, using the grief to numb her to everything else.

It was not like she knew Detroit wel . She'd been there shopping with Celine a few times but since Eden didn't have any friends it wasn't like she'd had the chance to head into the city with a group of kids and hang out. She had been once with Stel an when he was checking out the University of Detroit. They had taken a walk up E Jefferson Avenue and then took a right to Rivertown, the Warehouse District. They had had lunch at pretty cool cafe. It had been a good day. Just the two of them hanging out.

The bus had dropped her off near Wayne Community Col ege but she knew that was near Detroit University so she marched towards the University main campus and tried to retrace her steps. The Warehouse District was busier than she remembered, so Eden huddled into her raincoat and ducked her head, trying not to look at anybody or feel the blissful pul of their souls. Instead she kept walking towards the riverside. The wind had been blowing this crisp clean smel of the river over her but that soon began to fade to this metal ic, industrial smel the further she walked. As an elderly woman, who smel ed of lemons and mola.s.ses, pa.s.sed her, Eden froze at the warm feel of her soul.

Deciding it best to tune out her senses, Eden breathed through her mouth and continued on. She gazed around at her. None of this would work. It was too...nice. So she kept walking. She walked for a while, not knowing where she was real y. But final y she found it. It stood alone on its block.

The building was perfect. An old red brick abandoned warehouse with broken windows and faded lettering along the top. She could just make out the word Trading.

Breaking in was easy. She snapped the padlock across the double doors near the back and pushed the solid iron door open. Her ears picked up the skittering of rats, as her foots echoed around the shel of a warehouse. Shattered gla.s.s, naked steel and waste decorated what was left of the place. It stank of rust and foul garbage... and old smoke. She wandered around it, staring up into the high rafters. There were holes. She'd have to watch when it rained. To her surprise she found a damp and worn sofa tucked behind one of the pil ars. There was beer cans and cigarette stubs littered around it. She guessed someone had been using this place as a hangout before it had been locked up.

Eden heaved a sigh and sank down into the sofa, looking around.

It would do.