REAPING INNOCENCE ◦ STILINSKI [3]

xxxi.

xxxi. THE UNVEILING

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THERE WERE SO many things Carter felt too frightened to talk about, even to Malakai.

First, the police still haven't found the person who or what killed the homeless woman beneath Dead Man's Bridge. And the fact that it occurred the same night her, Logan and Malakai were at the cemetery couldn't have been a coincidence. Carter remembered everything that happened to them that night, and she wondered. It scared her.

Everyone was convinced that a rabid animal must've killed the woman, but there haven't been any attacks since, so the excitement has died down. Scott and the others are almost positive that it must have been Raeven that did it. Carter wasn't so sure. For the past few weeks, they haven't seen any signs of Raeven or heard anything of bodies being drained of blood. In fact, Carter didn't know what Raeven was planning, and she didn't care.

There was only one thing Carter did care about. Stopping her thirst for blood.

Even Malakai didn't realize how important it was to her. She's afraid to tell him; afraid that him and the others would stop her. At school she wore a mask of calm and control, but on the inside—well, every day it just got worse. She could tell that she was making the others sad...worried and she hated it. She could see that they were masking the full extent of their worry—watching her jump at any loud sound, or how her face suddenly would go white for no reason that they could see. Lydia was especially worried about Carter. She kept saying that Carter doesn't eat enough these days, and she's right. Carter couldn't seem to concentrate on her classes, or even on anything but the fact that she's exactly like Raeven and that kills her.

Carter felt absolutely hideous that morning; rolled off the couch just as the sun started to peek through the curtains in the kitchen. It wasn't like she was sleeping anyways; couldn't bring herself to close her eyes for longer than a few seconds. Every time she let her mind and body relax, she'd feel that poor woman's blood rushing down her throat, hear her agonized wails. It didn't help her outlook that she was afraid of the time she'd spent unconscious, afraid that they were lurking in the dark watching her the others while they slept. The anxiety seemed to ratchet up the intensity of the pounding in her head.

Shaking her head, she stood from the couch and stretched her stiff neck and back. Glancing around the living room, her eyes immediately landed on the couch Stiles had been sleeping on, which was now unoccupied. He hadn't spoken to her much since that morning her confronted her; shouting that he remembered everything she did to him that night. Ever since the tragic incident that was Donovan, Stiles seemed to isolate himself from the others. And Carter knew that it wasn't just her that noticed the boy's odd behavior, but Malia had been the only one to openly question him.

"We'd better go," Malakai said, from behind her, quiet and serious.

Carter nodded and went with him to the car, her heart felt like ice in her chest. Thunder growled overhead as they drove to the high school, and Carter glanced out of the car window with dull dismay. The cloud cover was thick and dark, although it hadn't actually begun to rain yet. The air had a charged, electric feel, and the sullen purple thunderheads gave the sky a nightmarish look. She roused herself as they pulled up to the school and forced herself to swallow her dread.

Scott and the others were waiting for Carter at school, as usual, but their faces were wrong. There was something buried in their eyes that she couldn't be sure of—and it scared her. They knew that she had suddenly ran out of the house last night—of course—Malakai told Carter that he was going to tell them the first chance he got. She didn't want to bring it up, but she wasn't sure if avoiding the subject would be worse.