I stopped tapping the At vial. “Can’t? Or won’t?”

“I can’t!” she said, voice shrill and eyes wild. “I wish I could, I swear, but—”

I kicked Gregory’s chair, and he rolled a couple yards down the table, making room for me to squeeze in beside Constance. I placed my hands on the polished tabletop and leaned in toward her. “But what?” I asked, voice hushed. A few strands of her blonde hair swayed in the wake of my words.

Again, she licked her lips. “The—there is no cure.”

My nostrils flared, and I searched her eyes, her face, looking for the telltale signs that she was lying.

“Honestly, I wish—”

“Shut up!” I shrieked, straightening and settling in to pace alongside the table. Either Constance was a damn good liar, or she was telling the truth. I had to believe the former; the possibility that there was no cure was too horrifying to accept. I might actually have to kill someone to get the truth. A human—either Scott or Gregory. Maybe then dearest Constance, here, would take this seriously.

“Little sister—”

“Not now, Dom,” I snapped. For fuck’s sake, couldn’t he see that I was in the middle of something? It was a terrible time for a chat.

“It’s Garth,” he said, ignoring my dismissal.

“What?” I paused, placing my hands on my hips. “He totally disregarded what I said about getting to the compound, didn’t he?”

“No, little sister. He arrived a couple hours ago.”

“Then what is it?” I asked, staring hard at Scott, who was watching me like I had a stick of live dynamite stuck up my ass.

“Neffe just got the results from his blood test,” Dom said. “It came back positive, little sister. He’s infected.”

My heart stumbled a few beats, and my grip on Mercy’s hilt faltered. The sword slipped out of my hand, landing on the hardwood floor with a sharp clatter.

Nik took a step away from the sealed-off windows. “What is it? What happened?” He was suddenly in front of me, only I couldn’t remember watching him close the distance between us. He gripped my upper arms. Squeezed, hard. “Kat! What’s going on?”

I shook him off, reaching up to twist open the vial of infected blood even as I stepped over Mercy and marched back across the room to where Constance still sat. I drew the needle dagger from my left sleeve once more and dipped the point into the vial.

“Kat, wait!” But Nik reached me too late.

I scratched the dagger across Constance’s smooth cheek in one sharp motion. She flinched back, her hand flying up to cover the shallow wound. Shallow, but deep enough. Garth was sick; now she was, too.

“That was infected blood, bitch,” I hissed, leaning in until I was so far into her personal bubble I was practically giving her a lap dance. “Tell me the cure, or I’ll leave you in here until this fucking disease kills you, too.” I leaned in further, my nose less than an inch from hers. “Or maybe I’ll wait until you’re nearing the end, you know, the part when you lose your shit and attack everyone around you?” I laughed bitterly. “Maybe I’ll wait until you’re rabid, and then I’ll send you home. How long do you think it’ll take the kids to realize you aren’t their mommy anymore—for them to see you as the monster you really are? For them to run from you?” I narrowed my eyes, studying her expression, soaking in her fear. “Too long, I bet.”