“Thea, I think it’s safe to assume there’s nothing valuable under the sink,” Penn said as she carefully stepped over all the things Thea’d tossed on the kitchen floor.

“This is a waste of time anyway.” Thea sighed and got to her feet. “Gemma’s here. Can we go now?”

“I don’t know.” Penn faced Gemma and leaned on the back of the couch. “Gemma says she’s not sure if she’s coming with us or not.”

Thea groaned and rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”

“Where’s Bernie?” Gemma asked.

“Who?” Lexi asked.

“Bernie.” Gemma brushed past them to check out the bedroom in the back. She pushed open the door, but only found more of the mess she’d seen in the rest of the cabin. “Bernie? Mr. McAllister?”

When she didn’t see him, she turned back to the sirens. Penn and Thea just watched her, but Lexi played with her hair and looked at the floor.

“Where is he?” Gemma asked. “What did you do to him? Did you hurt him?”

“He gave us the place.” Penn shrugged. “You know how persuasive we can be.”

“Where is he?” Gemma repeated, her voice getting harder. “Did you kill him the way you did those other boys?”

“I’d hardly call that old man a ‘boy,’” Penn said, her tone teasing.

“Stop it!” Gemma yelled, and Lexi flinched. “You said you told me the truth, but you didn’t. I know you’ve been killing people, and you didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t lie,” Penn scoffed. “I never said, We don’t kill people, Gemma.”

Her stomach dropped. “So you admit it.”

“Yes. I admit it.” As she stepped closer to Gemma, she smiled and tilted her head, her voice silky and sweet. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But it’s only one little detail.”

“One little detail?” Gemma stepped back. “You’re murderers!”

“We’re not murderers!” Lexi said defensively. “At least, not any more than a hunter is, than you are when you eat a hamburger. We do what we have to do to live.”

“You’re cannibals?” Gemma’s jaw dropped, and she kept stepping back. She wasn’t looking where she was going and nearly tripped over a book, but she caught herself on the wall.

“That’s why we don’t lead with that,” Penn explained in a way that sounded so reasonable, so logical that it sent chills down Gemma’s spine. “We have eternal youth and unmatched beauty. We can change form into magical, mythical creatures. So we survive on mortal blood. What’s that one little thing, when we get so much in return?”

“One little thing?” Gemma asked, laughing darkly. “You’re monsters!”

“Don’t.” Penn pursed her lips and shook her head. “I hate the word monster.”