Merrick set the other plate in front of Adalynn and settled the knife atop it.
“Thanks.” Adalynn picked up the knife, grabbed a tomato, and began cutting it.
“My only expeditions into this altered world were made soon after the moon split,” said Merrick, “and I imagine the small towns in this region are not exemplary of the wider world. Real bad how?”
Danny swallowed audibly. “You haven’t seen? The cities are pretty much just hunting grounds for monsters.”
Merrick had been aware of monsters throughout his life—he was one of them, after all—but his encounters with other supernatural beings had been limited. His few treks into the nearby towns after the Sundering had been enough to confirm his suspicions—just as the moon breaking had amplified Merrick’s magic beyond his imaginings, it had brought about a resurgence of inhuman beings. But his experience was with a tiny portion of the country; he found himself eager to hear more, to know more. His isolation hadn’t been kind to his ravenous appetite for information.
“Monsters of what sort?” Merrick asked.
Adalynn paused in slicing a cucumber and looked at him curiously, head tilted to one side. “You really haven’t heard anything?”
Danny snatched a slice of cucumber off her plate and popped it in his mouth.
“I’ve been self-sufficient since well before all this happened, but there were a few supplies I deemed important enough to warrant a couple of trips. I saw many strange things during those journeys, but it was some months ago, and I deemed it best to remain here in security. Any other means I possessed of obtaining information from beyond my walls lasted only as long as the electricity. I’d like to know what you have seen.”
“Lucky,” Danny muttered.
Adalynn frowned, her gaze shifting from her brother to the sleeve of crackers. She took five of them before placing the remainder on his plate.
Merrick’s mouth fell into a frown of his own. Though he had no intention of eating with the humans, he pulled out a chair opposite them and eased onto it. “That isn’t necessary, Adalynn.”
She turned her gaze to him. “What?”
“There is plenty of food for both of you. You do not need to split your portion for your brother tonight.”
A blush colored her cheeks. “We’ve already taken from you, and you’ve made your stance on that pretty clear.”
He leaned back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. “After all the arguing that brought us to this point, you are going to eat a fair portion. Isn’t she, young Daniel?”
Danny had stopped eating to look at Adalynn. He glanced at his plate and seemed only in that moment to realize how much he’d eaten—despite his sister having taken only five crackers, the sleeve was better than halfway depleted. His brows lowered, and he frowned. The guilt that flickered across his face was accompanied by a deep sadness.
“It’s okay, Addy. You can eat more,” Danny said, returning the sleeve of crackers to the table between them.
When Adalynn looked at Merrick questioningly, he dipped his chin toward the food. “Eat—and talk. Consider the information payment; a fair exchange for food and lodging.”
“You talk funny,” Danny said.
Adalynn elbowed her brother before slipping a wedge of tomato into her mouth.
Merrick arched a brow and returned his attention to the boy. “And you don’t?”
“Nope,” Danny said, popping his lips when he made the P sound.
Merrick took a slow, deep breath, and paused for a moment to assess his motivations. He wanted isolation, wanted to be alone. But he wanted Adalynn to stay, wanted her close, wanted to touch her and hear her voice and see her happy, wanted to feel her mana song. Getting her to eat was part of that. Obviously, those were conflicting desires…but his want of isolation had dropped to a distant third, now behind his craving for information in addition to his inexplicable craving for Adalynn.
And her eyes were on him, so big and dark, full of curiosity and wariness, so different from those fleeting moments in the ballroom when they’d brimmed with fire and lust.
“I’m not originally from the area,” he finally said. He had little desire to delve into his origins; lying to humans had been necessary for survival, but he’d always felt degraded by having to do so.
“Huh,” Danny said. “Cool.” Apparently bored with the subject, he dove back into his food.
Merrick’s relief at the boy’s sudden disinterest was ridiculous in its strength—but it was short-lived.
“Where are you from?” Adalynn asked.
Damn it.
“Europe,” Merrick replied dismissively, “but I emigrated a long time ago. You were speaking about monsters?”
She took a bite out of a cucumber slice. “It’s basically a bunch of monsters you might’ve seen in horror movies or heard about in old legends. They kind of appeared after the moon broke, and there were rumors early on that some people actually…well, turned into them.”
“I haven’t watched many movies. Would you mind elaborating?” Merrick had seen walking corpses and a plethora of spirit-like entities when he’d left his estate; he needed to know what else was out there, needed to know how many of the ancient texts he’d spent so long studying were accurate in what they described.
“The werewolves are scary as shit,” Danny said.
“Danny,” Adalynn warned.
“What? They are! We saw one when we were trying to get out of the city. The only reason it didn’t come after us was because someone else shot at it. The thing didn’t even flinch!”
“We’ve heard them a few times after that,” Adalynn said, frowning. “They sound like howling wolves, but much deeper. It’s…I don’t know, otherworldly. And it’s terrifying, especially when you realize they’re communicating with each other.”
“And there are revenants everywhere,” Danny said.
“Revenants?” Merrick asked.
“Walking corpses,” Adalynn replied. “The wolves are scary because they’re so monstrous, but the dead…a lot of them still look human, but they’re not. They go after anything that’s living, almost like they can sniff out life, and they’re vicious. Like rabid animals. You can damage their bodies, slow them down, even incapacitate them with enough damage—or just the right kind of damage, I guess—but the only way to make sure you stop them is by burning them.”
“What do you mean by the right kind of damage?”
Adalynn’s brow furrowed, and she lowered her gaze. There was a mild strain on her features now, and Merrick’s heart thumped restlessly in response; he didn’t like causing her distress.
“Injuries affect them sort of like they would a living person. Not that they seem to feel pain, but…you hack into their leg, and their leg doesn’t work right. You know what I mean?”
“Addy had to hit one with the car before we got here so it wouldn’t follow us,” Danny said.
“And it just dragged itself down the road behind us anyway,” Adalyn added. “I was driving almost fifty miles an hour when I hit it. That would’ve killed a normal person instantly.”
Merrick raised a hand and brushed his fingers over his short beard. Their testimony only served as more proof in support of what he’d suspected based on his research—the moon had served as a balance of some sort, as a mystical lock on the forces of magic, on the forces of life and death. Its destruction had disrupted what had previously been the natural laws of Earth.