Human or not, it seemed all teenagers were the same.
Colt headed downstairs and found Susan and Stan waiting for him on the sofa. Susan had a martini in her hand, and Stan was laughing as if she’d just told a joke.
“Ah, much better,” Stan said, standing to pour a glass of something that looked like gin. He offered it to Colt and ushered him into a high-backed chair across from the sofa. “Feeling a bit more human?”
Colt stared at him.
“Excuse my husband,” Susan said, shooting the man a halfhearted glare. “He’s under the mistaken impression that he’s funny.”
“Just a little ghoul humor to lighten the mood,” Stan said, sitting back down next to his wife.
“Guess I’m not really at the joking stage yet,” Colt admitted. Sure, he’d had his anger issues in the past, but nothing out of the ordinary for someone who’d been through everything he had, according to his social workers. In light of what had just happened, Colt was seeing every playground fight and temper tantrum in his past differently. Had he always been a monster? Could something so awful truly sit just beneath the surface of human skin, waiting for the right moment to eat away everything he’d ever thought he knew about himself?
“You poor thing,” Susan murmured, clasping her drink in both hands.
“In that case, we’d better start at the beginning,” Stan said, striking his knees with his palms after a moment of silent contemplation. “But first, Colt, you mentioned your adoptive parents earlier. They’ve never said anything about this before?”
“Trust me, my parents would be as shocked by what happened as I am.” And horrified. How was he ever supposed to face them again? In the fourteen years he’d spent with the Jagers, Colt had only ever made Renee cry once, and he had promised himself that heartbreaking sound was one he’d never hear again. The thought of disappointing her was the only thing keeping him from going downtown to make a confession against the Browns’ advice. Then there was Jason…
Colt felt ill at the thought of how he’d left things between them. In his newly sober state, he regretted nearly every word he’d said at that dinner table, but even if Jason could forgive him for lashing out--and it was almost worse that Colt knew he would--he could never know the truth.
His life was over. The revelation came down like a blade at the guillotine, and it was almost comforting. The finality of it.
“Colt?” Susan said his name in a worried tone that made it clear it wasn’t the first time it had been called.
Colt looked up. “Sorry. What?”
“I was just saying that it’s highly unusual for a ghoul to live among humans,” said Stan. “Unheard of, really. Forgive me if it’s a sensitive subject, but do you know anything about your birth parents?”
Colt shook his head slowly. “The police found me wandering when I was two. They tried to find my parents, but no one ever came forward with any information.”
“How awful,” Susan said in a pitying tone that made the circumstances seem all the more bizarre to Colt. It was one thing to learn that he was a monster. Given what he’d just done, it was a fact he couldn’t deny, as extraordinary as it seemed, but the fact that the Brown family claimed to be the same was unbelievable. It was hard for Colt to imagine anyone so civilized and kind could be capable of the same violence he’d just partaken in.
To be fair, hours earlier, he hadn’t thought it was something he was capable of, either.
“Well, I’m afraid you just found out in the worst possible way why ghouls and humans don’t mix. At least, not in a family setting,” said Stan. “There’s no easy way to explain any of this, so I’ll be frank. You’re not human, and you never have been. Once transformation hits, there’s no going back.”
“Is that why I changed?” Colt asked, looking down at his hands.
“I’m afraid so. Like I said, whenever we become...excited, certain physical changes happen. The first time you feel the urge to feed, the chemical shift makes it almost impossible to control. That’s why it’s usually a family affair.”
“The First Hunt was invented to be a controlled way to let fledglings become accustomed to their new instincts,” Susan said. “You need guidance from experienced hunters who can keep you from losing control and pull you back if that happens.”
“What I did to that man… You all do that?” The words stuck in his throat. “You eat people?”
Susan gave him a patient smile. “I know it’s a lot to process for someone who was raised by humans. It’s a lot even for some of us. Ronnie’s known what he is his whole life, and he still had a hard time with it.”
Colt looked up at the ceiling. “He kills people, too?”
“Oh, no,” Susan said quickly. “Not all ghouls hunt. Some of us find that sort of thing distasteful and prefer to get our meat through more ethical sources. Most purchase meat from hunters.”
“Hunters?”
“Ghouls who don’t mind getting their hands dirty,” said Stan, smiling when he saw the look on Colt’s face. “It’s not all that different from being willing to eat meat you buy at the grocery store if you don’t have the stomach to kill and prepare it for yourself, is it?”
“That’s different. We’re talking about people, human beings.”
“I doubt that would be a very convincing argument to a cow,” mused Stan.
Susan gave him a look before turning back to Colt. “There are other ways of doing things, dear. We have networks in hospitals and morgues. Places we can get meat without killing.”
“So you’re what, the ghoul equivalent of vegans?”
Susan’s cherry red lips quivered in amusement. “I suppose you could say that.”
“And what does that make me?” Colt asked, reminding himself he didn’t have the right to judge anyone’s diet when he’d just ripped a man’s throat out.
“Young,” said Stan. “Inexperienced. I know it probably feels like you’re living a nightmare, but tonight could have gone much, much worse for many more people. Innocent people. Be glad your only casualty was someone who won’t be missed.”
“Yeah,” Colt muttered. “I guess I’m just lucky.”
“More than you realize,” Susan said gently. “Ghouls keep a tight rein on things. We have to in order to live among humans without detection. There are teams of Enforcers who kill any ghoul who risks exposing the rest of us, and I’m afraid an unaffiliated fledgling such as yourself would be an easy target.”
“Why did you help me?” Colt asked, looking between them.
“We may not be human, Colt, but we’re not all monsters,” said Stan. “Altruism exists among our kind the same as it does theirs. It’s all a matter of perspective.”
“Thank you,” Colt said, his voice still hoarse from all the unnatural sounds it had produced that night. “I can’t say I understand, but I’m glad you came along before I hurt anyone else.”
“It could have happened to anyone in your situation,” said Susan. “But the important thing is that you’re not alone now. Stan and I will help you however we can. I know it feels like everything has changed, but you’re still the same person you’ve always been. There’s just another part of you that you’ll have to learn to integrate into your identity.”