Simon said goodbye to me quickly and ran off to get me Henry's number and check on Ashley. I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell him everything. I really hoped he wouldn’t try to play detective, since he would probably end up as a dog treat. A chill ran down my spine despite the high spring temperatures.

As I watched Simon's car drive away, Dale ran down the stairs from my room and now stood in the open doorway. I knew this without having to turn around, I heard his every step and his heartbeat. I turned around with a sigh and Dale’s heart sped up. My neck must have looked great…

“What the hell happened?” Dale ran to me but then froze and his eyes went wide gaining a golden hue. "You smell like him. You’re drenched in Lazar’s scent!” He wrinkled his nose and growled softly. I just stood there blankly, trying to figure out how to start. Dale wasn’t that patient, he grabbed my arm and pulled me inside.

"What happened?" he asked again as he finally pulled me onto the couch and rolled up my sleeves to look at the now distinctively purple bruises on my wrist. Are you just using me to kill Lazar? Yeah, that was no way to start a conversation...

"Andrew?" He looked at me with that worried expression, and my chest went tight. Today he was wearing blue jeans and a white shirt with some beige embroidery on his chest and shoulders. Three days… I knew him for three stupid days. What evidence did I have that he wanted to help me? Damn, I was so desperate and lonely I would have probably followed him blindly into the forest even if he carried a rifle and had ‘Mr. Poacher, the killer of wolves’ tattooed on his chest. "Hey? What did he do to you?” Who could I trust?

"How old are you, Dale?" I asked softly in my hoarse voice. Dale just blinked in confusion. "Answer me." It was not a request, a command, or a threat. I had no energy for any of it.

"Twenty-seven," he said in a neutral voice.

"For how long?" I continued when Dale did not elaborate.

"It'll be about thirty years now," he whispered, looking down at the floor. So Lazar didn’t lie about that immortality thing. And Dale somehow didn’t think it was important to mention it. Did he expect me to not live long enough to have to deal with it?

"How many people has Lazar transformed before me?" I asked. Dale looked confused about the change of the subject but answered.

"As far as I know, no one… I don’t think he’s even ever let anyone live. Except for you and Simon." His voice trembled slightly. He probably sensed that I wasn't too happy with him. Lazar told me I was his only son? Descendant? Puppy? Whatever the werewolves called it. And he didn't lie. So what? Two truths and one lie? Or… Or was Dale using me?

"Why are you here Dale? Why are you in Wadena?" I glared at him as he finally looked up from the floor. "Did you come to kill Lazar?"

His face turned carefully blank. “So what if I did?”

No… There was no way Lazar was right about this… No way. “And what am I to you? What about that amazing speech about how you answered my loneliness? About how horrible it is that my Maker left me and how you’re going to teach me? Why are you even here? Do you even care about me? Or are you just going to use me to kill Lazar?!” Anger. Pure rage seemed to fill me. It all made fucking sense now. Of course, no one would just come and save me from this hell hole my life had become.

"Andrew, I need you to listen to me carefully right now," he said in a voice that people used to calm frightened animals. I clenched my fists and really tried to keep myself from hitting something. Or someone.

"Give me one damn reason why I should listen to you?!" I growled and jumped to my feet, Dale did the same but ignored me completely.

"Why are you even mad at me right now? Lazar is a monster! We both hate him and we both want him dead! So what if I came here only to kill him? So what if I found you just because you are his descendant? Doesn’t change the fact that he needs to die!” he said, also starting to sound angry. “How does anything else matter right now?!” So he really didn’t care. I was such an idiot.

“Fuck how could I believe you’re a good person. Of course, you’re just another monster like Lazar. Both of you want to use me for your own good! Get out! Get out of my house!" I was yelling now. My throat was in pure agony but I was far too angry to care. The bitter taste of betrayal settled in my mouth.

"Please Andrew, listen to me!" he said slowly, but I had had enough. I clenched my fist and hit him in the jaw. The pain vibrated through my whole hand. And finally, the Beast inside me woke up, growling in the back of my head. Pain gripped my chest, and the Beast’s anger turned my nails into claws and my teeth into fangs.

"Get out, Dale or I swear I'll tear you to pieces!" Hearing that, Dale froze, clutching at his jaw.

“Alright… You need some time to cool down, I get it.” Slowly he backed away to the door, where he gave me one last look full of grief and pain and disappeared.

I really trusted him. I was such an idiot. And now I was alone once again… I slumped to the floor and, in the company of the enraged Beast, I tried not to think about the revolver pressed against my side. One press of the trigger and it would be over… No Demon, no Beast, no immortality, no betrayal, pain, or bloodthirstiness… But I knew very well that I couldn’t do that. Whether it was because of Ashley, Simon, or to stop Lazar, I had to keep living. Still, I felt absolutely helpless.

What now? The monster inside me reminded me that I hadn't changed last night. I looked at my watch. Ten in the morning… However, the Beast didn’t care and sent a rush of adrenaline, anger, and restlessness through me. That forced me to get up and change into something less restricting than a uniform.

When I opened the front door, I automatically looked around for Dale, and when I made sure he wasn't nearby, I headed aimlessly into the city. Of course, all the pubs were closed so I just stopped by a small shop on the corner and bought a bottle of vodka. The saleswoman gave me a cautious look. I was pretty sure I heard her sigh in relief when I left.

I took a swing and hoped the alcohol would calm me down at least until it got dark. And perhaps I wanted to drown my despair and pain.

Ah… I didn't like vodka. In high school, it was my patented way of drowning my problems. That stupid bottle reminded me of all the dark moments of my childhood. I haven't touched it in seven years…