“Crap, that’s right,” Melissa said, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Pep rally today.”

Rex groaned and closed his eyes. He hadn’t faced anything like this since the change, and he wasn’t looking forward to it. The thought of all those bodies pressed in close around him, chanting together, brought a trickle of nerves into his stomach.

“Don’t worry,” Melissa said, reaching across to take his hand. “I’ll be there.”

At her touch, with no more insistence than a cool breeze, a calmness fell across Rex. His stomach stopped roiling, his mind growing still as Melissa’s serenity poured into him.

A shudder passed through Rex; her strength became his.

Funny. A month ago it had been Rex who’d had to talk Melissa through the beginning-of-football-season pep rally. Now she was the sane one, and he was…

What, exactly?

He didn’t know yet, and Rex hated not knowing. There were no halflings in the lore, much less recovering halflings.

Bad dreams last night?

Rex smiled and turned to face Melissa. The words had come through as clear as speech. They could have whole conversations now without her uttering a sound.

Her control was almost perfect, not a leaked thought anywhere, so different from the vomited rush of fear and pain that had struck him when they had first begun to touch each other. Although sometimes Rex missed those early experiments, the terrifying moments when he saw all of Melissa at once.

When his mind was focused, he hardly had to speak himself; Melissa simply pulled the words from him. But this morning he was too much of a wreck.

“Yeah, some bad dreams,” Rex said aloud. “But not all of them.”

The hunting dreams had been sweet—the cold, patient hunger as he tracked prey for days across the plain, anticipation building as the weakest were cut from the group, and then the burning rush of the kill.

But of course, there’d been those other dreams as well, memories of when the clever little monkeys had started hunting back. The beginning of the end.

“Jeez, lighten up,” Melissa said, pulling her hand away and rubbing it, as if to wring out the ancient horror she’d felt in his mind. “I think someone forgot to drink his coffee this morning.”

“Sorry, Cowgirl. Yeah, I guess I could use a cup. Or six.” Rex shook his head again. His brain felt stuffed full, his own thoughts almost crowded out by the memories that the darklings had implanted to make him one of them. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get back to normal.”

Melissa snorted. “When were you ever normal, Rex? When were any of us?”

“Well, maybe not normal,” Rex admitted. “But I’d settle for human.”

She laughed and touched his shoulder, and he felt a spark of her pleasure even through the fabric of his long black coat. “You’re totally human, Rex. Trust me on that one.”

“Glad you think so,” he said, smiling.

Melissa’s fingers stayed on his shoulder, drumming out a nervous rhythm, and her glance strayed to the open gymnasium door. Rex realized that however much her control had improved, the thought of enduring a pep rally still made Melissa anxious.