It has to be me.
“You’ve been acting off for a while now,” I begin, returning to meet his gaze. “Do you remember any of that?”
I see him wracking his brain, searching his memory for the evidence of what I’m saying. Finally, he gives a small nod. “You thought I was cheating on you.”
There’s emotion in his voice. A crack. A fracture. My thinking that hurt him just as much as it hurt me.
“Only because you kept disappearing. You always had some place to be, but it wasn’t always work. James confirmed that to me. And then we realized you were missing chunks of time,” I continue.
I see the shift in his eyes as he starts piecing little bits of it together. But he’s more lost than ever.
“You came home in different clothes. There was blood under your fingernails,” I say, diving into the darkness of it. “And when I picked you up in Queens, and then Gio told us…”
This is so hard. How do you tell the love of your life that they’ve killed five people, maybe more?
“What did I do, Lana?” Ares’ words are little more than a breath of dread.
“Gio told us his son Luciano had been killed,” I say, putting the first nail in the coffin. “In Queens. And we started piecing it together. Any time any of these vampires had been killed, no one could account for your whereabouts.”
His eyes narrow, and he looks… hurt. "No. That’s not possible. I wouldn’t hurt Luciano. I haven’t even seen him in years."
Sysco steps forward. "You weren’t you, Ares. You were gone, man. For a while, you were sometimes you, but it got worse and worse. Finally, you were just completely gone. We had to knock you out. Twice. You didn’t even recognize us."
"That’s not—" Ares presses his palms to his temples, breathing hard. "I don’t remember that. I remember...” His words trail off as his gaze fixes on the floor. He blinks rapidly, like he’s trying to clear the fog out of his brain. “I don’t know. I guess there are some flashes. Fuck, I definitely can’t remember much of anything since… Since I went and talked to Ophelia.”
Harry and I glance at each other, and I know I couldn’t ask for a more perfect segway.
“That’s because it was her,” I say, my throat feeling thick. My stomach twists. I want to throw up or scream. The betrayal of it all still sears my soul. When the confusion in his eyes deepens, I press on. “The signs were there, but at the time, I didn’t know it was possible. But Ophelia has a supernatural gift. She can influence people.”
“What do you mean?” Ares asks, his voice rough, hints of anger leaking into it.
I glance at Sysco, and we both take a deep breath. We’ve had time to process this fact. But this is the first time Ares ishearing aboutothersupernaturals beyond vampires. “Turns out there are people who can do things. Things like telling you to do something, and you do it, even if you never would normally. Ophelia was angry when you went to talk to her, wasn’t she?”
“She was fucking livid,” Ares confirms. His eyes darken. “I tried to reason with her, to help. But she wouldn’t hear a damn word of it.”
“Turns out she wasn’t happy with just trying to put you in your place,” Sysco helps deliver the news I really don’t want to share. “She used this supernatural influence, and she told you to kill every vampire you know in New York.”
I squeeze my eyes closed and pray Sysco doesn’t disclose the second part of what she told Ares to do.
Thank fuck he keeps it to himself.
“No,” Ares says, shaking his head. “That’s not possible. And I wouldn’t ever do that. Augustus—he deserved what he got. But every vampire I know in New York? Hell no.”
“Beth, Mike,” Harry begins. I squeeze my eyes closed. This hurts. It’s so damn painful. And it just makes it worse that it was my former best friend who could do this. “Felix. Tom. Luciano.”
“We don’t even really know the full body count yet,” Sysco says quietly. “Cliff has been missing. We haven’t found a body yet, but we’re guessing you got to him, too.”
Ares stares at us like we’re speaking a language he doesn’t understand. Then, his face crumples slightly. The denial fractures.
I pull his hand into mine, pressing a kiss to his palm. He didn’t fucking deserve this. He had no control. What Ophelia did…
A tear dampens my eyelashes. I wipe it away before anyone can see it.
“You were hunting me when Lana finally tricked you into coming to her,” Sysco says, the words tight.
“Even you?” Ares asks in distress as he looks up, disbelief, grief, and shock painting his face ashen.
“Ares, look at me,” I say as I place a hand on his cheek. “Right now, in this moment, does any part of you want to hurt Sysco?”
