Page 33 of Stalker
"No excuses." Another ancestor opens his ribcage, showing the sword that killed him. "We all died for vengeance."
The crowd parts. My breath catches.
Mother stands before me, her chest cavity torn open from the explosion that killed her. Her eye sockets are empty black pits that bore into my soul. She reaches toward me with blackened fingers.
I jolt awake, choking back a scream. Sweat coats my skin as I gasp for air.
Beside me, Maryse sleeps peacefully, her red hair spread across the pillow. Her gentle breathing fills the darkness.
Sleep eludes me. The phantom stench of decay lingers in my nostrils as I stare at the ceiling. Maryse's warmth beside me should bring comfort, but my ancestors' accusations echo in my mind.
"Ancient ones, hear me," I whisper in the darkness, careful not to wake her. "I have not forgotten my oath."
The bone spurs along my arms ache with the weight of generations of vengeance seekers. My people do not forgive. We do not forget.
But Maryse shifts in her sleep, her hand finding mine. Her touch sends electricity through my body, awakening possibilities I never dared imagine.
"Give me time," I continue my prayer. "Let me have both - justice for my mother and a future with this woman."
The words feel strange on my tongue. A future. Such a foreign concept. My kind live fast, die young, our bodies returned to the void after extracting payment in blood.
Yet I picture Maryse in a garden, tending her beloved plants. Our children - both human and reaper - playing among the greenery. Peace. Purpose beyond the next kill.
"I will have Daniels's head," I promise the darkness. "But I want to live afterward. To build something lasting."
My mother would have understood. She chose life among the humans, chose love over tradition. Until Daniels took that choice from her.
I trace the curve of Maryse's shoulder with my fingertip. So soft. So precious. Worth surviving for.
The ancestors may call me weak. But there is strength in wanting more than death and vengeance. In daring to reach for joy.
Sunlight streams through the window, painting Maryse's skin golden as she stands before the mirror. Her fingers trace the collar at her throat.
"Bruticus? Can you take this off? I need to get ready for class."
"The collar stays." A smile tugs at my lips. "Forever."
Her eyes widen. "What do you mean forever?"
"It marks you as mine. Among my people, that's not temporary."
She stares at me, mouth agape. The horror in her expression proves too much and I burst out laughing.
"Here." I reach over and tap the small control panel on the side. "Watch."
The collar shimmers, then vanishes from sight. Maryse's fingers fly to her throat, finding the invisible band still there.
"Holographic camouflage. You can toggle it on and off whenever you want."
"Good." She smooths down the front of her blouse. "Because it clashes with most of the clothes in my closet."
I pull Maryse close, drinking in her sweetness one last time before she heads to class. Her lips taste of mint toothpaste and promises I shouldn't make.
My compad chirps. A message from Vorpa flashes across the screen:
"Found leverage on Daniels. Meet at Rusty Bolt ASAP."
Perfect timing. The ancestors' accusations still echo in my skull.