I held my breath, fully aware that if Andrew wasn’t with Luiz, he would have no idea what I was talking about.

But his sudden silence said that I was almost certainly right.

“How did you know that?” Andrew muttered.

My pulse jumped, and I sat straighter, both thrilled and terrified to have my guess confirmed. “Is he with you right now?”

Something crashed over the phone, a sound like wood breaking. “How the fuck did you know about him?” Andrew demanded, and all traces of the kind, gentle man I’d known were gone.

Too nervous to sit, I shot up from the love seat and began to pace, uncomfortably aware that my father did the same thing when he needed to think quickly. “Andrew, listen to me. You have to get away from him.”

“Why? So you can turn me into some kind of pet on a leash? Don’t you already have one of those?”

Suddenly unsure, I paused in midstep, glancing at my father for guidance. “Say something,” he mouthed, and from the corner of my eye, Vic used his hand like a talking puppet to reinforce my father’s order.

“Andrew, you have to trust me.” I started pacing again, fast now, my bare feet whispering on the rug. “Whatever he’s telling you, it isn’t true.

He’s lying.”

“What, like you did?” His voice was shrill with fury, then for a moment it was gone altogether, buried beneath what sounded like more furniture breaking. “—turned me into a monster, then left me to die. He saved my life. He taught me…everything.”

“No.” I shook my head, though he couldn’t see me. “He’s using you. I bit you by accident, and didn’t figure out what had happened until last night. I swear my life on it. I never meant to hurt you. But he’s been using you all this time, lying to you and twisting the truth to get you to do what he wants.”

“You have to be in cat form to infect someone,” Andrew snapped, his words clipped short in rage.

Okay, that was true. But…

“Which means you did it on purpose.”

“No!” I shouted, by then oblivious to everyone else in the room.

“There’s more to it than that. Just give me a—”

“You had a chance to say your piece, but instead you left me without so much as a goodbye. Why should I believe a word you say now?”

“Because I can help you. I want to help you.” I’d never said anything truer in my life. It was my fault Andrew was…insane. And likely homicidal.

“I don’t want your fucking help!” he shouted into my ear, bitterness rendering his voice a mere shadow of what it once was.

Time to change tactics. I took a deep, calming breath. “Where are you, Andrew? Let me come get you. I’l come alone.” I crossed my fingers and held them over my head as I paced, for my father’s benefit. I had no intention of going anywhere near Andrew and Luiz alone. But they didn’t need to know that.

“Where am I?” He laughed, and in that grating, malicious perversion of joy, I heard a faint remnant of the sweet, delight-filled laughter I remembered from the Andrew of old. The man with gentle eyes and slow, patient hands. He was still in there somewhere. He had to be. “I’m in hell, Faythe. And you’re going to keep me company.”

Grief rol ed through me in a wave of private despair. Grief for Andrew, and the man he’d been. I stopped in front of my father’s desk, leaning against it, my shoulders hunched in sorrow, and in guilt. If I had taken care of Andrew during his transition, he might have been fine. He might have turned out very much like Marc. But I hadn’t taken care of him. I’d left him for Luiz to find, and now the only part of my Andrew remaining was a familiar note in the hollow echo of his laughter.

What had I done? And could I possibly undo it?

“I’m so sorry,” I said again, hoping to thaw his heart with my penitence. “I would give anything to change it. To give you back your life.

But I can’t.” Pacing again, I reached the corner of my father’s desk and turned. “But I can show you how to live the life you have now. Please let me help you.”

“Fuck you, Faythe! You’ll be begging me for help soon.”

My breath hitched in surprise over such an overt threat, and I glanced at my father, who looked almost as concerned as he was angry. “Andrew, I’m tel ing you it was an acci—”

“You can explain it to Saint Peter,” my formerly human, formerly kind, gentle, and sweet boyfriend snarled in my ear.

“Say hi for me when you see him.” The phone went dead in my hand, and I held it in front of my face, staring at the tiny ful -color screen, which now read “end call.”

“Damn it!” My hand clenched the plastic, and it took several long, slow breaths before I regained enough control to keep from crushing it.

“Wow!” Vic said, whistling between his two front teeth.

“That’s one pissed-off little stray.”

“Two pissed-off little strays,” I corrected, thinking of Luiz, who was just as much to blame for what Andrew had become as I was. “When we find Luiz, he’s going to pay in full for every finger he laid on each of those girls, and for every single lie he fed Andrew.” Though at the moment, it was the truths he’d told that bothered me the most. He probably really thought I’d infected Andrew on purpose.

“Indeed,” my father said from his armchair, and for a moment I thought he was reading my mind. “Well, at least we know now that you were right about his involvement.”