Chapter Text
Wednesday had no intention of attending Nevermore academy.
Her parents, however, insisted on bringing her to campus to see the school in the hopes that she’d fall madly in love with the place and agree to attend the next semester. She agreed only because she could reject it more thoroughly after experiencing the halls for herself.
She left her parents to their reminiscing with the principal almost immediately.
The architecture itself did nothing to repulse her, but it did nothing to change her mind either. The students were scarce at this time of day which suited her well. She had no interest in socializing either. Wednesday wandered the halls until she found herself outside where the campus met the tree line. She continued into the woods because the peace and solitude of nature had always appealed to her.
Besides, there were mountain lions in these woods and she might be lucky enough to meet one.
She didn’t meet any predators, but she did lose sight of the school. She continued deeper into the woods until she heard a scream.
It was male, she thought though it wasn’t very clear. It was definitely a scream of agony though and those were her favorite kind.
He screamed again. She smiled and followed the sound.
She came across footsteps soon enough. They led to a cave.
The man screamed once more, but this close she could also hear him crying and spitting insults. The wrath in his every word excited her, filling her with a delightful buzz under her skin.
She entered the cave and found a woman towering over a boy her age. Or she thought he was her age. It was difficult to tell with him being so torn up, covered in dirt and blood.
“Hello,” Wednesday greeted because despite popular belief, she did have manners.
“Great,” the woman said to the boy. “You see what you’ve done? You’ve forced me to kill this one.”
Wednesday raised her brow at the woman, amused. “This is turning into a far better day than I anticipated.”
The woman attacked, and perhaps she had some training, but she was sloppy, and Wednesday was in no danger from her uncoordinated, undisciplined attempts to subdue her. As unchallenging as this was, Wednesday still found herself having fun fending her off.
The woman fell back against a pile of toys, all of which were slick with the boy’s blood. Wednesday looked at the boy and met his eyes.
He was looking at her intensely with tears running down his face. Terrified as he was, he didn’t say anything to her. She was a little disappointed. He had a lovely voice. She’d like to hear it again.
His eyes darted to the woman against his will and widened in panic. Wednesday dodged as the woman lunged for her, a blade in hand, and met the boy’s eyes again.
Fending the woman off without looking at her was a handicap that made the dance more fun. Wednesday smiled at the boy and twisted the woman’s arm back hard enough to snap her ulna bone, forcing her to drop the blade.
Wednesday tossed her back onto the pile of toys like she was nothing.
The boy tensed in his chains before the woman could rise again. Wednesday watched curiously as the boy’s muscles contorted and his bones shifted under his skin violently, cracking and snapping into a new, much larger form.
Wednesday watched mesmerized as the boy screamed and jerked in his chains until he grew too large to be contained by them and they snapped apart. Standing before them was a beast with dark grey skin, a hunched back, large eyes, and wildly disproportionately muscled limbs. He was a predator that Wednesday didn’t recognize, and he was beautiful.
The woman laughed, breaking the intense gaze Wednesday held with the beast.
“Kill her.”
The beast appraised the woman and Wednesday wondered what he would do. It would be a far greater challenge to fight this creature, and to die at the claws of something so wonderful was not a death she would regret.
The beast did not attack her. Instead, he kneeled down to match her height and bumped his forehead against hers.
The affection surprised her, but what surprised her more was the giggle it earned. She’d never made a sound like it before.
The sound made the beast happy enough to bump their heads together again and nuzzle his nose into her bangs like an overgrown housecat. She wondered how much of the boy was present for this transformation. She didn’t know much about shapeshifters. She would have to correct that.
Wednesday touched his face with the tips of her fingers reverently. He was so warm against her. His hide so rough and solid. She’d never wanted like this before. Never met anyone who could captivate her so.
“Hello there.”
The beast smiled wide enough to reveal his sharp, jagged teeth.
A sharp pain pinched her side. Looking down, Wednesday found a knife sticking out of her. She’d forgotten the woman was there.
The beast took in the sight of the snarling woman with her hand still on the hilt. His face grew dark with fury and in the next moment, blood splattered on Wednesday as he ripped the woman apart.
The beast tore into her like it was his job, his pleasure even. Wednesday took in the smell of blood and viscera with relish. His claws buried themselves in the woman’s guts, her throat. He stripped her of her skin and muscle like they were made of paper. She had died already, but the beast kept playing. Wednesday was more than content to sit and watch him work.
The woman was little more than paint for the cave walls by the time he finished. Wednesday admired it for a moment before fixing her gaze on him.
He was so much prettier covered in gore.
“Come,” Wednesday said, her palm outstretched for him to take.
He didn’t hesitate to scuffle over to her side and put his hand in hers, dwarfing her in size no matter how he tried to make himself small next to her.
Wednesday couldn’t stop herself from bringing his hand up to her face and kissing the inside of his wrist. Delicious blood coated her lips.
The beast shrunk back into the boy.
He looked at her with a reverence nobody ever had before, like he couldn’t believe someone like her could exist. She tugged him closer, and he collapsed into her arms, tackling them both to the ground. She laughed as he buried his face in her neck and clung to her like she’d poof into thin air if he didn’t.
Wednesday toyed with his hair as he shook against her and knew that she was going to keep him.
“Get up. We’re going home.”
***
The boy didn’t say a word as she led him back to the car and led him into the trunk before her parents could see him.
Wednesday knew they would have been more than happy to hear she was bringing a boy home, but she didn’t want them to know. This boy was hers and she wasn’t ready to share. Not even for a moment.
Wednesday sat in the back of the hearse and waited for her parents. It didn’t take long.
They looked pleased as punch to see her disheveled and bloody, her knife still lodged in her side.
“What did we say, darling? Nevermore is a wonderful place where you could really find yourself,” her mother said.
“I have no desire to attend this school.”
***
Wednesday waited for everyone to retire for the night before sneaking out and opening the trunk of the hearse.
The boy was asleep, but he blinked his eyes open the moment she took his hand.
“We’re home. Follow me.”
The boy was silent as she led him up to her room, but his eyes took in every inch of her house with awe. Fondness dug its claws into her as she shut her bedroom door behind them and sat him down on her bed.
His wounds bled sluggishly, and he’d grown paler from blood loss. Wednesday tipped his head up from where it’d begun to droop and took a moment to admire him.
“You’re strong but hurt. Wait here. I will return with the needed materials. Don’t fall asleep. I need to check for a concussion first.”
The boy nodded and she left to gather what she needed without alerting her family. He was exactly where she left him when she returned a few minutes later.
Wednesday sat beside him and placed her personalized medical kit within reach as well as a basin of water. “Look at me,” she ordered and shined her flashlight in his eyes until his pupils dilated properly. “I’ll wipe the worst of the blood away here and then we’ll get you in the bath proper. Then we can stitch your back up and get some blood in you. After that, you can rest. If you’re good, tomorrow we can go out and find something new to hunt.”
“I’ll be good,” the boy rasped.
Wednesday softened and began to wipe the muck off his face. Bit by bit, he started to look a little less like a gremlin she’d snatched from the woods and more like an eagle scout.
They’d fix that soon. Once he’d regained his strength.
The boy was still naked, so there was nothing to cut away as she worked. He had wounds all over, but his back bore the worst of it. It was nothing she couldn’t meticulously stich back together.
“If you like, we can leave the stitches in after you’ve healed. They look lovely on you, but we don’t have to. There’s plenty of time to explore your physical appearance.”
“I don’t—” the boy choked. “I don’t want to.”
Wednesday smoothed her hand over his stitches and hummed. “Then we won’t. I think I’d prefer to preserve my own marks anyways. Frankly, these lashes are the work of an amateur. A beast like you deserves the hands of an expert.”
“Laurel. Her name was Laurel.”
“It doesn’t matter anymore.” Wednesday said, scrubbing some of the blood flakes out of his hair. “She’s gone and you’re with me now.”
The boy hummed and leaned back into her chest. Wednesday scented his hair where it brushed her cheek and savored the dried blood and dirt that clung to him.
“Come. I’ll set the bath and we’ll get you good as new.”
The boy nodded and stood. Wednesday led him to her ensuite bath and filled it with water hot enough to burn. The boy sighed as he sunk into the bath, immersing himself completely in the tub long enough that Wednesday wondered if he was going to drown.
Wednesday guided his head over the edge of the tub. “Don’t fall asleep just yet.”
The boy opened his eyes and moved as she directed him. Wednesday used her own soap to dig the muck out of his curls which were a much lighter brown than she thought. The boy was practically putty in her hands by the time the water had lost its transparency and he smelled only of her.
“Up you get,” she whispered into his ear, “before you drop, and I have to carry you to bed.”
The boy rose and stood still as she dried him off. As she reached up to dry his hair, her shirt rose to reveal the stitches where she was stabbed. The boy frowned at the sight of them and traced the line with his calloused fingers.
Wednesday dropped the towel and rested her hand over his. “I think I’ll take these stitches out too when they’ve done their job. They’re pretty, but a few days is enough for me.”
“I’m tired.”
The boy looked ready to collapse. Wednesday had her blood transfusion kit ready, but she supposed it could wait a few hours.
“Come.” Wednesday led him to bed by his wrists which were still raw from the manacles. She let him crawl under the covers first and get comfortable—changing into her nightclothes as he did—before sliding in behind him.
“What’s your name?” the boy asked faintly as if he were afraid he wasn’t allowed.
Wednesday tucked her chin over his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his middle. The boy curled back into her hold, and she was hit with how protective she felt over this shaking, powerful boy.
“I’m Wednesday,” she answered. “You can sleep now.”
“Thank you.”
***
Wednesday woke up to a steady heart beating against her chest. This was odd because she always slept on her back, alone, and surrounded by more death than life.
And then she opened her eyes and the boy was staring back at her.
They had shifted in their sleep so that she was tucked into his chest rather than the other way around. The boy had a strange look on his face that she couldn’t quite decipher, but he didn’t seem as afraid anymore. Perhaps confused or disbelieving.
“Where am I?” the boy asked.
“New Jersey. The Addams Estate. Or did you mean my room?”
The boy went somewhere behind his eyes and then he started to cry.
“Stop that.”
The boy stopped.
Wednesday furrowed her brow. “You have remarkable control. Unbelievable control.” Wednesday sat up. “How did you do that?”
He looked like he wanted to cry again. Wednesday wiped his previous tears away and said, “Tears are useless things. They won’t make you feel better or change anything in the world.”
The boy nodded, but he didn’t look like he meant it. Wednesday wasn’t going to argue.
“You’re mine now. I would know what you are.”
“What I am?”
“You’re like me—an outcast—and you were beautiful in your beastly form, but I didn’t recognize you. I’ve read dozens of bestiaries over the years, but I’ve never heard of you. What are you?”
The boy swallowed a sob. “I’m a hyde. Or my mother was. I don’t know what happened. Nobody ever told me—”
Wednesday took the boy’s hand and examined the marks on his wrists. “That woman. She was hurting you.”
The boy looked away. “She was my friend.”
“You ripped her apart. Do you murder all your friends?”
“No!” the boy cried, sitting up and grabbing Wednesday by the arms. He released her just as quickly. “I’m sorry. No. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“That’s a shame. I was going to take you hunting tonight. You were so good for me, my beast, and I made a promise.”
The boy melted into her touch as she cupped his cheek and slid down to his chest, leaning over him as he sunk back into the mattress. She could sense the bloodlust within him like it was her own, but if he wasn’t ready to relish in it then she could wait.
The boy held her hand where it had slid back up to cup his jaw. “Why did you bring me here?”
“To keep you, of course. This is your home now and I’m going to take care of you.”
Gears turned behind his eyes. Wednesday traced the shallow scratches across his chin, his shoulders, his chest while he digested her words. Pressed against the bruises dotting his bare skin.
“You want me?” the boy asked like what she said next could break him. “Like really? In your home?”
She’d never wanted to keep something whole more in her life.
“My beast,” she sighed: Out loud, she realized when the boy responded with an equally breathy, “Yours.”
Wednesday kissed him before she’d realized that’s what she wanted to do. Once his lips were pressed against hers, however, she couldn’t stop. The day finally came that she fell prey to a pretty face, but she couldn’t bring herself to mind. Not when he whined so prettily against her, held her tightly to his chest, and touched her like she was something powerful and good.
She bit his lip, intent on making him gasp so that she could deepen the kiss further, when a groan sounded in the hall followed by heavy footsteps.
Lurch had begun his day. The rest of the family would soon follow. Wednesday pulled away from him and sighed.
“I should go. Breakfast will be ready soon and we’ve still got to get some blood into you. Perhaps I’ll find some clothes as well. I’m sure we’ll have something in your size.”
“Don’t go,” he pleaded.
“Wait here. I’ll have Lurch tend to you until I get back.”
***
Breakfast with her family was a torturous affair.
The food was good, and the company enamored with each other. Her brothers and grandmama were notably absent, but Wednesday did not ask where they were.
“We had that knife sharpened and left in your study,” her father informed her.
Wednesday gave him a pleased hum of recognition. He smiled.
“Perhaps we can use it on the one who stabbed you. It’s been too long since we went on a hunt together.”
Wednesday took a sip of her coffee. “We hunted last week.”
“Exactly! I’m dying to get out again. Aren’t you?”
“I’ve recently adopted a new pet. I’ll be focused on it for the foreseeable future. Besides, the one who stabbed me has already been dealt with.”
“This new pet wouldn’t happen to be that scruffy young man you snuck into bed last night, would it?” her mother asked coyly.
Wednesday glared sharply at her. “He’s a beast I found in the woods. I won’t have you harassing him like you’ve been itching to since I first declared Sartre my love at five years old.”
“Of course not, my dear. We can wait until you’re ready to introduce us properly, but do forgive me for being excited. It’s not every day our daughter brings a boyfriend home with her.”
“He’s not a boy, friend or otherwise. He’s a beast and he’ll need to recover from his wounds before engaging with anyone else.”
“Was he the one who stabbed you?” her father asked excitedly.
“Oh, how romantic! Our little girl is growing up,” her mother crooned.
She did not like the way her parents were looking at her, drenched in affection so cloying it made her claustrophobic. She stood before finishing her meal.
“My beast requires blood,” she said while setting a tray for her boy. “Do not disturb us.”
***
Wednesday found her boy sat up in bed above the covers, dressed in clothes that likely belonged to an ancestor, his wrists chained to the bed with the manacles she wore when she’d induce night terrors before sleep.
“Who chained you?”
“A really big guy who doesn’t talk,” The boy answered. He didn’t appear tense or afraid despite the fact that he’d only just escaped his previous binds. As if he could read the question on her face, he continued, “I don’t really mind. They feel different.”
Wednesday didn’t know what that meant. “Lurch must have assumed you’d escaped them. If you don’t object, then I suppose there’s no reason to release you. You can still feed yourself.”
The boy perked up when she handed over the tray. He poked at the food curiously before shrugging and digging in like he hadn’t eaten in days. Given how faint he’d been, she wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t.
As he ate, Wednesday sat in her reading chair with her blood transfusion kit. The needle entered her vein smoothly on the first try and slowly fed the IV bag with her blood.
The boy grimaced at the bitter coffee she’d provided him with and set the cup down on the nightstand. “What are you doing?”
“You need blood. I’m a universal donor.”
“I don’t need it that bad!”
“It’s a simple procedure. Nothing I haven’t done to myself before and you are still weak. Just because you feel fine now does not mean you will remain that way once you try to stand.”
The boy hummed and tucked himself into the corner between the headstand and the wall. “I’m Tyler, by the way. I don’t think I ever told you my name.”
“You didn’t.”
“Right. So, yeah. I’m Tyler.”
“Tyler is a horrible name. You parents ought to have put more care into it.”
“I dunno. It’s not that bad.”
Tyler shrunk in on himself which was odd because something so strong should have a tougher skin than a simple fact could pierce.
“Sit up straight. If you’re so proud of it, my opinion shouldn’t be able to wound you so easily.”
Tyler sat up immediately, his posture improving even past what it was before. Wednesday eyed him curiously and pulled the needle out of her arm.
“Give me your arm.”
Tyler scooched to the edge of the bed and reluctantly offered his arm for her. She sat beside him and felt for his vein. Finding it quickly, she inserted the needle and watched as her blood flooded into him. The sight affected her more than she anticipated, stealing the breath from her lungs and her focus entirely.
Her blood reddening his deathly pale skin satisfied her in a way she’d never felt before. She found a new appreciation for pink, flushed skin as her blood did its work, finding his heart and mixing with his own like it belonged there.
The bag emptied and Wednesday removed the needle. By the time she’d put away the kit, Tyler had returned to his corner, curled up into himself, trembling. Wednesday sat beside him, curious at his low whine and increasingly erratic breathes.
Tyler was having a panic attack.
Wednesday had never seen a panic attack in real time before. It was fascinating, but she wasn’t sure what had caused it and that was vexing. Tyler flinched when she buried her fingers in his hair—which clung to his skin, shining with sweat—but didn’t try to escape her. Tears had spilled down his cheeks again.
“Why are you upset?” she asked.
Tyler struggled to speak, but the effort only made it more difficult for him to calm down. “Hurts.” He choked out.
Wednesday’s blood should not be harming him. Wednesday checked his pulse which was steady if not abnormally fast. Tyler had shown no signs of rejection regardless.
Tyler grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap quicker than she could resist. Wednesday grunted as he squeezed her to his chest and buried his nose in her neck, inhaling her deeply as if he could find his breath there. Wednesday allowed this because it wasn’t uncomfortable, and it seemed to be working. Slowly, his pulse slowed into a steady, respectable rhythm. His chest calmed and his hold softened around her. Wednesday rested her head on his shoulder rather than move, nuzzling into him softly.
She understood his fascination with her own scent. He smelled nice too.
Tyler sat back against the headboard with a groan. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t know what that was.”
“Are you afraid of needles?” she asked. If the pain wasn’t physical, then it was only reasonable to assume it might be psychological. Tyler had experienced a traumatic event. Wednesday supposed this might be the beginnings of PTSR or something similar.
Tyler shook his head, but it was out of habit and he stopped once he noticed what he was doing. “Maybe,” he answered after a moment of silent contemplation.
That was a shame. Wednesday didn’t want to play pincushion with him if this was what was going to happen and it didn’t look like he’d be taking anymore of her blood anytime soon either.
“We’ll have to keep you from bleeding too much then, but that’s ok. My chair hasn’t seen enough use lately. It’ll be happy to see you.”
Tyler said something, but Wednesday didn’t hear him. A bead of blood had started to congeal at the puncture wound in the crook of his elbow. Wednesday took his arm in her hands and kissed it closed, licking away at the tiny bleed until it stopped.
Tyler’s breathe had quickened again, but his eyes were heavily dilated, and he didn’t look afraid at all.
She released him. They sat there, caged by the moment, as Tyler’s gaze fixed themselves on her lips. She could feel a tiny drop of their blood sat there on her bottom lip.
The chains clanged against her chest when Tyler pounced, crashing his lips to hers and pressing her to the mattress, sucking her bottom lip clean before chasing the rest with his tongue. Wednesday doubted there was enough blood lingering for him to taste, but that didn’t stop him from searching and neither did she.
She could get used to this.
***
“How do we have nothing on hydes!” Wednesday exclaimed, a pile of books spread out around them in the Addams family library.
“We are pretty rare.”
“That’s no excuse! My family has been entrenched in everything obscure, morbid, and distasteful for centuries. Perhaps there’s a journal hidden in one of our graves or buried in the vault. We’ll have to search there next. I have an uncle a few generations back who was obsessed with all manner of beasts. We can dig him up tonight.”
“Hey,” Tyler soothed, holding her to by her arms and coaxing her attention on him. “It’ll be fine. Worst case scenario, you can just write your own. I know how much you want to experiment on me,” he teased.
“I was going to do that anyways, but you’re right.” Wednesday sighed and sat down on the chaise. “What were you saying earlier about my family?”
Tyler grimaced and sat beside her. “Laurel was obsessed with you guys. She kept going on about Crackstone and this book she wanted. You know, when she wasn’t—”
Wednesday pressed her hand on his arm and he stopped before he could work himself up into another attack.
“I think it’s still at Pilgrim World. I always assumed it was fake like everything else there, but she was convinced it was real.”
“We’ll have to find out ourselves. If this grimoire really did belong to my ancestor, it belongs here. Not some tourist trap glorifying the man who killed her.”
“I don’t think I can go back to Jericho. Maybe ever.”
“You’re never going back there. They’ll want to keep you, and I’m not willing to share.”
Tyler laughed softly, smiling at her fondly and shaking his head. “Have you seen the missing poster online? The picture is awful.”
“I haven’t. How have you? You never leave the house.”
“I might have gone to the library a week ago while you were at school.”
“I don’t remember telling you that you could leave.” Wednesday teased.
“I don’t remember you telling me I couldn’t.”
Wednesday smirked. “You’re a cunning beast, aren’t you? Only a good boy when it suits you.”
“When it suits me,” Tyler said, eyeing her like he was trying to decide where to bite and Wednesday knew if she allowed this to continue, they’d get nothing done for the rest of the day.
“Go fetch Fester. He ought to be at the pit with Pugsley. We’ll send him to Pilgrim World.”
Tyler obeyed without question, leaving Wednesday to stare at the door after he left. He’d been doing that more often. Shutting down, doing as she said. Normally, she wouldn’t question the obedience of others. It was natural to listen to her. She was very often right and had spent years perfecting the art of authority. The way Tyler obeyed at times, however.
It didn’t sit right with her.
Sometimes, it was normal. She made a command. He recognized that it was a good command and obliged. Other times it was like there was nothing under the surface, he just did as he was told because to disobey wasn’t an option.
At first, she thought it was a stress reaction. He’d been betrayed. He was still healing. It was easier to shut his brain off while he sorted through everything in his head. She wasn’t so sure that was it anymore.
Tyler returned with Fester and once his task was done, immediately returned to her with life in his eyes. He didn’t appear to notice the change, or he didn’t mind it. She wasn’t sure how to bring it up to him either way.
“Tyler, we missed lunch. Why don’t you head to the kitchens and I’ll catch up with you.”
Tyler didn’t question her, but this time it was because he thought it was a good idea.
“What’d you need the beastie gone for?” Fester asked once Tyler had left.
“You’ve noticed it, haven’t you? He goes empty sometimes.”
“You mean when you order him? Hydes, what are you gonna do?” Fester asked like it was just a silly quirk of life.
Wednesday narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean? It has to do with his species?”
“Well, sure! Hydes and their masters and that one adores you. He’d probably do whatever you said even if he had a choice.”
Wednesday felt like her organs had been scooped out of her and thrown in the trash.
“Elaborate. Now.”
“Oh. You don’t know, do you? I figured you’d picked him up for a classic game of pincushion and just,” Fester made a gesture with his hands which she assumed was meant to mimic the transformation into a hyde.
“No. We don’t know anything about what he is. We’ve been searching for information for days and you knew this whole time?”
Fester held his hands up in surrender. “Hey now. I wasn’t trying to be secretive. I thought you knew.”
“What did you mean ‘He. didn’t. have. a. choice.?’”
“You’re his master. You must have been the first person he saw when he transformed. Hydes imprint, like ducks, and now he’s bound to your will. That’s all I know.”
Everything that happened in that cave ran through her mind, that woman who was so smug once he’d transformed. She had told him to kill her, Wednesday remembered then. She’d expected him to obey her, but he hadn’t looked at her once. Not until she’d hurt Wednesday.
Because he’d never taken his eyes off of her.
Wednesday sat back onto the chaise faintly, hearing distantly her uncle shuffling off with words she didn’t hear. Time passed without her feeling it until Tyler was in front her, on his knees to match her height, with a soft look on his face that she didn’t deserve.
“Hey,” he said. “Uncle Fester said you needed to talk to me about something. Is everything alright?”
Wednesday combed over everything she’d ever said to him. Everything he’d ever done with her. For her. To her. To himself since she brought him here.
He’d nearly bled out in her car because he never said he was scared or dizzy. He’d just gone where she told him because she trusted he’d refuse if it was too much for him and he didn’t have a choice.
He’d stopped breathing once because she told him to and she’d thought he was being maliciously compliant to be an ass, but he didn’t have a choice.
“We’ve had sex.”
“Yeah,” Tyler chuckled. “Why? Did you want to again? Decide work can wait another day?”
“I’m not gentle with my words. I’m not shy with my desires. You’ve always done what I wanted, and we’ve had sex. I’ve tortured you. I’ve hurt you.”
“I wouldn’t say always, but I don’t see the problem.”
“I thought you had a choice!” Wednesday screamed, standing so quickly it pushed Tyler back.
Tyler stood and tried to touch her arm, soothe her like he always did, but she shied away and viciously wiped at her eyes.
“Of course I had a choice,” Tyler said and he sounded as lost as she felt. “I’m not afraid of you. Is that what this is about? Because I’m not. I never was.”
“You should be,” Wednesday hissed, spinning round to face him. “because hydes have masters and I’m not good or nice. I’m not some saint who can be trusted, Tyler! I’m a monster and you can’t tell me to fuck off and I don’t know how to make it stop and—”
“I know.”
Wednesday froze. Tyler had never looked more solemn.
“Not about you being a monster because you’re not and I don’t want to hear that shit out of you again, but about you being my master? Yeah. I know.”
“How?”
How did he know? How did he say it so calmly? How had he not spent every moment trying to run away or kill her or break this between them? She’d have murdered anyone who had this power over her the moment she had a chance and she’d given him so many chances.
She could feel his fear like it was her own. How long had she been able to feel him? Had it really been this whole time and she’d just been too blinded by him to see the truth?
“She told me how it worked once I couldn’t do anything about it.” Tyler stepped towards her. She stepped back. He persisted until he’d backed her against the wall and she couldn’t escape the hands that cupped her face tenderly. He smiled softly when he said, “I had been fighting it for days. This beast inside me had woken up, but I’d done everything to keep it buried down where he couldn’t see her. Then you appeared out of nowhere, and it was like everything was right with the world again. I stopped fighting. I became him and he became me. We—I chose you, and you could argue that I had little choice in the matter, but I’m so happy it was you.”
“How can you be ok with this?”
“It’s not ideal. I’d rather have no master at all, but that’s not really an option right now. I’m not sure it’ll be an option at all. But you don’t have to worry about saying the wrong thing or breaking me. I know how to tell when I’m being ordered to do something, and you’ve never made me do anything I wouldn’t have done anyways. I promise.”
Wednesday closed her eyes and ordered, “Tell me the truth.”
Tyler brushed her bangs out of her eyes, rested his forehead against hers, and said, “I trust you.”
***
Nearly a year later, the house was alive with merriment and joy. Pubert Addams had just turned three.
Tyler had vowed a week previous to spend the whole day shifted for Pubert and he’d honored that promise the moment the clock struck twelve. Not five minutes later, Pubert had waddled into Wednesday room, climbed onto Tyler’s chest, and fell back asleep. Wednesday woke up that morning to her brother inches from her face where she’d been resting on Tyler’s bicep. She promptly shoved Pubert off the bed. He only laughed, climbed back onto Tyler—who had woken at the thud—and didn’t let go for the rest of the day.
Not that Tyler minded. Wednesday watched them from afar as Tyler played at gouging Pubert with his claws and Pubert shrieked delightedly every time.
It was all too adorable for Wednesday, who spent most of the day wanting to vomit.
“What a wonderful pair they make,” her father exalted, crashing down on the couch beside her with all the joy one might expect from a man with everything. “Your little beastie is a natural with children.”
“No.” Wednesday said.
Her father nodded in understanding. “Yes. Yes, I know, but there are always the cousins and niblings your brothers will produce.”
It would be fun to torture her brothers’ offspring.
“You assume either will manage to seduce a woman long enough.”
“Or catch one!”
Wednesday rolled her eyes and left for the dessert table. A glance at Tyler revealed that the streamers decorating the halls had begun to wrap themselves around him, hanging off of him like he were a part of the house rather than a resident. Pubert snatched one which was struggling to reach Tyler from the ceiling and wrapped it around Tyler’s neck. Tyler swiped at Pubert from his place on his shoulders, but missed as Pubert scurried to his leg instead.
Fondness welled up inside her. It was awful.
Wednesday piled her plate with as many jellied eyeballs as would fit and hid in a dark corner with ample view of the entire room. Hours passed before Tyler found his way back to her side, Pubert finally distracted with his new cannon.
Tyler hunched to match her height and pushed her braid out of her face with a delicate claw. Wednesday allowed her eyes to soften with him so close and tilted her head to invite a chaste kiss.
“Fester has informed me that distance will not put a strain on our bond or your health. I’m almost disappointed. I don’t want to be unable to spend time apart, but it would have made an excellent excuse to stay.”
Tyler nuzzled her bangs and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“Beastie!” Pubert shouted. He had pointed his cannon at them and had a lit match ready to ignite it.
“Go,” Wednesday said. “I know you want to.”
Tyler’s eyes shined with delight and then he was gone, charging for Pubert, and catching the cannonball with his chest. Wednesday stepped a foot to the side just in time for Tyler to crash through the wall and land outside.
Tyler held the cannonball proudly in the air. Wednesday’s lips twitched at how juvenile it all was. She left to refill her plate.
She didn’t rejoin the crowd until her mother insisted on a family photo, dragging her to stand between Pugsley and Tyler who stood at the end thanks to his size. Pubert sat himself on Tyler’s arm which was curled around her shoulders. Wednesday raised her lips into a straight line. The camera flashed. She left for her corner.
Later that night, Tyler was chained to her bed in his human form save for his claws which he used to trace lazy lines into her stomach. Wednesday had opted not to wear her nightgown to give him more room as she laid between his legs, her back to his chest with her loose hair hung over his shoulder.
“I’ll miss you,” she admitted.
“I’m going to miss you too.”
“Be good,” she ordered without putting any weight behind it, “but not too good.”
Tyler smiled wickedly and pressed a kiss below her ear. “I’ve already got plans to terrorize your old school while you’re away.”
“Why stop there? You could terrorize the entire town.”
“If I’m going to terrorize a whole town, I want to do it with you.”
Wednesday hated that she had to attend Nevermore more in that moment than she ever had before.
***
Wednesday unpacked immediately, busying herself to discourage Enid’s attempts at bonding. Her desk first because she intended to write before bed and disposing of the rainbow vomit spread out over her side of the room took more time than she anticipated.
“What is that?” Enid asked.
Wednesday turned from where she had been making her bed to see Enid pointing at the photo of her and Tyler on her desk. It was the photo from Pubert’s birthday; Tyler’s gift to her given there was no other photo of them together. She’d promised to display it under duress. He’d threatened to get his hands on a polaroid camera if she didn’t.
She knew exposing such sentimentalities would bite her. She just hoped it wouldn’t have been so soon.
“My boyfriend,” Wednesday answered shortly.
“That’s your boyfriend?” Enid asked disbelievingly. “Is it even human?”
“None of us are human.”
“You know what I meant.”
“If you knew you were using a word incorrectly, then you know not to use it.”
Enid rolled her eyes. “Is it a person then?”
“He,” Wednesday said emphatically, “is a person. Yes.”
“I’ve never seen an outcast like him.”
“I’d be surprised if you did. He’s an endangered species.”
“Does he go here?”
“No. His kind was banned. One of the many reasons I am attending against my will.”
“That sucks.”
“Hypocrisy and discrimination often do.”
“Right,” Enid trailed off awkwardly, “So! How did you meet?”
Wednesday didn’t respond, opting instead to sit at her desk pointedly and begin the next chapter of her novel. This conversation had already pried enough personal information out of her and she had no interest in being this girl’s friend.
Enid huffed and left for her side of the room, granting her silence for only a handful of seconds before the worst music she’d ever heard filled the room.
Wednesday was going to make her mother pay for subjecting her to this.
That afternoon, Wednesday attended her first mandatory therapy session with Dr. Kinbott. She tolerated her even less than she tolerated Enid who at least showed a genuine desire to understand her and made subpar but honest attempts to respect her.
Wednesday snuck out five minutes in and hid in a café for the duration of their session. She was confident that it would take the hour for Principal Weems to locate her and escort her back to campus. In the meantime, she could enjoy relative silence and a quad.
And then three pilgrims decided to provoke her, and she supposed letting off a little steam worked too. Humiliating teenage boys happened to be a hobby of hers and it wasn’t fun if they hadn’t earned it first.
“What the hell is going on in here?” the local sheriff asked, having been drawn in by the commotion.
Wednesday’s good mood evaporated at the sight of Donovan Galpin. She had hoped she wouldn’t have to meet him. Tyler had specifically requested she not stab the man. He immediately amended that request to include all forms of bodily harm. She had hoped to pursue psychological torture instead, but Tyler had predicted her too well and she was left with very little to work with. However, seeing the man in the flesh sorely tempted her to disregard Tyler’s wishes entirely.
“Nothing that concerns you,” she answered.
The pilgrims grumbled about her being a bitch and scurried off to reassemble their broken pride. Donovan didn’t stop them from leaving. Wednesday would allow the pilgrims go this once, having punished them enough for a first offense. Donovan, however, looked at her with a wariness that she was familiar with from law enforcement and she did not have the grace to indulge him.
Before either could say a word, the door dinged open for a new customer.
“Miss Addams,” Principal Weems said from the entrance. “There you are.”
Wednesday was happy for the opportunity to leave and walked into Principal Weem’s offered arm.
“Wait,” Donovan said, “Addams, you said? You wouldn’t be Gomez Addams’, would you?”
Wednesday faced him and said, “He’s my father.”
“He’s wanted for questioning.”
“What for?” Wednesday asked though she had her suspicions.
Donovan looked her in the eyes, found something there, and accused, “You know exactly what for.”
“That’s enough,” Principal Weems interrupted. “Miss Addams had nothing to do with your son’s disappearance and I find your attitude offensive. I understand it’s been hard, but that’s not an excuse to harass my students.”
“No,” Donovan said like he thought he knew something, “but we both know their being in town on the same day that—. We all know it wasn’t a coincidence.”
Principal Weems rose to her full height and said, “I want your son safe at home as much as any of us, but you want this to be true and you’ve used a scrap of circumstantial evidence to convince yourself it is. That does not make you right. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Miss Addams and I need to return to Nevermore.”
Wednesday watched them size each other up with a growing interest in Tyler’s investigation and Principal Weems’ involvement in it. She’d known that he was legally missing and presumed dead. She had not known that his father had decided her family was responsible for his disappearance nor that Principal Weems had evidently been shielding her family from it.
Principal Weems led her to the car swiftly. Neither spoke until the doors had locked and the car started.
“I apologize you had to see that,” Principal Weems said. “Things have been tense between the sheriff’s office and Nevermore ever since his son disappeared about a year ago.”
“He thinks my father is involved?”
“The day you and your parents toured campus happened to be the day Sheriff Galpin filed a missing person’s report on his own son. I’m afraid once he discovered the coincidence, he conflated the two.”
“You said he filed a report. Not that Tyler went missing. He’d likely have been gone for some time already if someone so dedicated to his job noticed his absence.”
Principal Weems glanced at her briefly. Wednesday internally scolded herself for the bitterness leaking into her words.
“It is likely Mr. Galpin was already gone before you arrived. However, you shouldn’t worry yourself over it. Legally, Sheriff Galpin has no evidence to accuse your father of anything and he knows it. If he harasses you, inform me immediately and I’ll take care of it.”
Wednesday exhaled sharply, amused at the thought that Principal Weems could keep a man from chasing after his son, no matter how little he cared for Tyler when he was around. She would respect Donovan if he did seek her out at least a fraction more than she already did. Of course, to say she would respect him after would be like adding a single drop of water to the Sahara Desert and calling it an ocean.
“I understand you have a low opinion of Nevermore, but I do mean it.” Principal Weems said as she parked outside the main entrance. Turning to face her, she continued, “I’m committed to protecting the students here at Nevermore which now includes you. Whether that means keeping overzealous law enforcement in line or dragging young women to therapy.”
Wednesday held her steady, authoritative gaze for a moment and left without a word.
***
Wednesday laid in bed that night angry at herself.
She couldn’t sleep. She hadn’t slept alone for almost a year, her bed was cold, and she couldn’t sleep. This was unacceptable. Wednesday refused to fall apart because she hadn’t seen her boyfriend in less than a day. She refused to lay awake missing him and the sound of metal scraping against metal as she held him in her arms. This was ridiculous. It was pathetic. It was absolute torture.
These sheets smelled nothing like Tyler and the cold had never felt so lonely before. What had he done to her? Was this a consequence of their master/hyde bond or was she really this weak after all?
Her crystal ball lit up on her desk. Enid didn’t stir from her slumber, which was a relief. Wednesday moved to her desk and answered the call.
Tyler grinned sheepishly from her study back home. “Hey.”
“It has not even been twenty-four hours.”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“You are the most dependent creature on the planet. You will never survive if you cannot deal with time alone.”
Tyler smiled at her like she’d told him that she loved him. “I’m literally not built to handle being alone. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize for things you have no remorse for. You’d stitch yourself to my hip if you could.”
Tyler laughed. “Shut up.”
Wednesday frowned and thought about what she’d learned that day.
Tyler sobered quickly. “What’s wrong?”
Wednesday blinked. “I met your father today.”
Tyler darkened. “What happened?”
And she told him. The more she shared, the more tense he became until he was practically growling.
“That bastard,” Tyler spat, “couldn’t give a damn about me my entire life, but he decides now to give a shit? And this is how he does it?”
“It appears your disappearance has caused quite the stir in town. Relations between Jericho and Nevermore are tense.”
Tyler waved that away. “They’re always tense. That’s nothing new. I’m just an excuse to quit pretending. Not like they’d give a shit about me otherwise.”
She felt his anger as intensely as her own. The audacity of men never ceased to infuriate her. A trait they had in common.
“I can still punish him. Just say the word.”
Tyler sighed and dropped his head into his hand, rubbing his forehead and pushing his hair back before meeting her eyes again. “No. Don’t. I hate the bastard, but I don’t want you to hurt him. Besides, it doesn’t sound like he needs the excuse to give you more trouble.”
“I’m not afraid of trouble.”
Tyler laughed fondly. “Yeah. I know.”
“I won’t provoke him,” Wednesday relented. “But I make no promises if he comes after me or our family.”
Tyler softened at that just like she knew he would. He always did at any acknowledgement that he belonged to the Addams clan. It was horridly transparent of him, but she never admonished him for it.
“Good night, Wednesday.”
Wednesday nodded the same and closed the call.
***
Standing in his dad’s living room was weird. The room looked exactly the same. The house just as quiet and claustrophobic. Tyler opted to wear an old long-sleeved grey shirt and sweatpants, the least distinctively Addams clothing he had, rather than buy anything new. He didn’t know what he was going to tell everyone. Definitely nothing about Laurel. She’d taken enough of his thoughts the past year. There was no reason to bring her up again. And nothing about Wednesday either. Involving her would destroy the entire point of coming back.
Tyler honestly didn’t think he’d ever come back. He had never wanted to come back.
He could still leave. His dad hadn’t come home yet. Nobody had seen him sneak back into town. Wednesday didn’t even know he was there yet. There was nothing keeping him in that living room waiting to be found.
His dad pulled into the driveway. Time was up.
His dad scuffled inside, the familiar clang of keys on the hall table and rustle of his coat being hung greeted Tyler before footsteps moved deeper into the house. His dad froze the moment he laid eyes on him.
Tyler stood there awkwardly, not really knowing what to do in this situation. Funny enough, he’d never actually been a missing person before. He didn’t know how this worked.
“Tyler?” his dad rasped as if to say it any louder would make him disappear again. As if none of this was real.
Tyler was hit with the fact that his dad was definitely about to cry which would have been great a year ago, but now just made him want to leave. He was not interested in having a heart-to-heart with the man. He’d moved on in more ways than one.
His dad hurried over to him, taking his face in his hands as if to prove to himself that he wasn’t crazy. Tyler allowed it, following along as his dad inspected his face and neck for injuries. He wouldn’t find any. Wednesday’s preferred torture methods didn’t tend to leave marks above the neck and anything other signs of her affection had already faded.
“What happened?” his dad asked.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Tyler answered. He really should have planned something, but maybe this was better. Nothing he said would have been as good as whatever his dad could make up himself.
His dad tackled him in a hug and if Tyler were weaker, he’d have fallen back from the force. As it was, Tyler just stood there and let his dad squeeze the life out of him until he got too bored or tired to keep it up.
It took a while for him to let Tyler go.
“Who did this to you?” his dad asked, anger finally rearing its head.
Tyler gritted his teeth, knowing the name his dad expected him to answer with.
“Did they,” his dad trailed off as if to complete the thought was unthinkable.
Tyler realized then that he knew. He knew what Tyler was, and he never said anything because he did what he always did. He ran away, stuck his head in the sand, and pretended it wasn’t real.
“Did they what?” Tyler spat, rising to his full height, forgetting to be soft and unassuming as that familiar anger bubbled over.
His dad swallowed. “Did they—”
“Did someone torture me until I transformed into something else? Bind me to them so I’d do whatever they wanted, no matter what it was?”
His dad’s back hit the wall and Tyler realized his fist was curled into his shirt and his claws had dug through the fabric and back into his hand. Tyler couldn’t help but inhale deeply as fear filled the air. It wasn’t as good as when someone knew they were about to die, but fear was still fear and he loved it.
His dad stared up at him, heartbroken like his Tyler had never come back and it was his fault. Tyler didn’t tell him otherwise, but he did let him go.
“I’m going to bed. Let me know if I should bother with school tomorrow.”
His dad didn’t say anything, nor did he try to follow him. Good. Tyler wasn’t interested in either.
It took Tyler a moment to calm down once he’d sat at his desk. When he did, it hit him that he was back. The living room didn’t compare to what it felt like to look at his old bedroom, covered in a thin layer of dust but otherwise untouched as if no time had passed at all.
Surreal. It was surreal to be back there as if he were just some repressed normie with anger issues. Some of that was still true, but Tyler didn’t feel like the same person anymore. He wasn’t the same person anymore. He stopped being that guy a long time ago.
His phone sat on his desk next to his closed laptop. Both were free of dust which didn’t surprise him. His dad probably read every text and email there was to find. He wouldn’t have found much, sheriff or not. Tyler knew how to keep a secret and Laurel had been a really big secret to keep.
Looking at his notifications, he felt like a voyeur invading another’s life. He didn’t bother to sort through them all, but a lot were from his friends: Lucas, Jonah, and Carter. Stacy tried to call a few times early on which was nice. He didn’t know if she’d care enough to check in on him. It wasn’t like they were in love or anything. He wasn’t even sure if they were properly dating before she broke up with him.
Staring at the screen after so long without any sort of tv, computer, or phone gave him a headache quickly. He tossed it on his desk and sighed, kicking off his shoes and falling into bed.
Sleeping had been hard enough these past few days, but at least he’d had Wednesday’s scent to soothe him, her chains to hold him while she was away. Here, all it smelled of was dust and grief. Maybe a bit of teenage boy, but most of that had faded.
“What is that?” his dad asked from the door.
Tyler opened his eyes and followed his dad’s gaze to his wrists which were now naked, revealing the marks that he’d maintained like the gifts they were.
Tyler smiled fondly at them. “They’re from the manacles I slept in. They’ve healed a bit more than usual, what with me being on my own the past few days. It’ll be fine.”
He hadn’t actually slept in his human form since his call with Wednesday, opting instead to travel in his hyde form. It took longer to get to Vermont—and he had to leave all his worldly possessions back home—but the last thing anyone needed was Tyler being seen in the Addams hearse. It was a small price to pay though. He could just make new marks later.
Except his dad didn’t leave and he didn’t look happy. Tyler remembered then that most people didn’t like being chained to their master’s bed and grimaced. He really didn’t want to have this discussion with his dad.
“Tyler,” he started.
“Don’t.” Tyler said. “Just don’t.”
“Look, what happened to you. It wasn’t right.”
Tyler laughed humorlessly. His dad didn’t know shit.
“Are you going to psychoanalyze me now? Get lessons from Kinbott while I was gone?”
“Tyler—”
“I think I’ll go to the festival tomorrow. It’ll be good to get outside. Be around people.”
Tyler just wanted to change the subject, but his dad decided this was him reaching out. Opening up to him about his trauma and asking for support while he healed. It was written all over his face, clear as day. He could think whatever he wanted. Tyler knew that attendance was mandatory for Nevermore students, and he wanted to surprise Wednesday.
“Yeah. Of course. I’ll be working.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
Exactly the same.
***
Pop.
Wednesday threw another dart, popping another balloon then another and another. Every carnival used the same tricks for their house advantage, and she’d mastered all of them at a young age. Winning this one did little to stave off her boredom.
“Keep playing like that and you’ll win a whole pack.”
Xavier Thorpe got comfortable at her side. It was bothersome and she wasn’t interested in indulging whatever interest he may have in her.
“Pandas are solitary creatures.”
“Subtle hint taken.”
He didn’t leave.
“Is there a reason you’re talking to me?”
“That. You keep biting the heads off anyone who will look at you and it seems great now, but eventually you’re going to want someone who isn’t afraid of you.”
Wednesday side-eyed him, examining him. He clearly thought he had her all figured out. “Your insistence that I’m a wounded bird in need of rescuing from social pariahdom has charmed me,” she said sarcastically. “Take me now.”
Xavier furrowed his brows, confused like he couldn’t decide if she was insulting him or not. She’d been told her sarcasm came off more apathetic than ironic in the past. It wasn’t her problem, however, if Xavier couldn’t tell the difference.
She parted her lips to make another biting comment, something to finish Xavier off so he could flee and lick his wounds—perhaps even earn the laugh the game runner had been swallowing as he watched them—when a hand grabbed her by the elbow and spun her around. Instinctively, she stabbed the offender in his side with the dart still in her hand, but the pain earned nothing but a grunt and failed to hinder him as he pulled her into a kiss.
She relaxed the moment their lips touched, recognizing them as Tyler’s, and opened readily the moment his tongue reached out. Sinking into him was as simple as breathing. The week apart had affected her more than she’d ever had expected, more than she’d even accepted just moments before, if the fact that they were in public did nothing to sour the moment.
She would be disgusted with herself later. She had missed him.
Tyler parted them, stealing a whine from her as he stood back a step, his arms still around her. Mortified, she bulldozed over her own weakness and asked, “How are you here?”
“I fucking knew it,” Xavier interrupted, reminding Wednesday that he was there. “You didn’t die. You ran away, didn’t you? You know, there was a rumor going around at one point that my dad had something to do with it which is bullshit and you’re definitely telling the truth so help me.”
“I’m sorry,” Tyler said, “Who are you?”
This only made Xavier red with anger.
Amused, Wednesday asked, “Do you mind leaving? My date is here, and I’d rather not lug around a third wheel.”
Xavier looked at her incredulously, lost for words. The game runner snorted behind them.
“Oh,” Tyler said, moving to stand between her and Xavier, keeping one arm around her waist as they turned, “Hey, Steve. Running the darts this time?”
“You’ve been back a day. How did you already get the Nevermore psycho to date you?”
“Is that what the locals are calling me?” Wednesday asked curiously.
“I may have sent out an anonymous tip to Jericho High’s gossip train. Thought you would like it.”
She did like it and she could now think of the times the local youth had shied away from her in a new light. Tyler read this on her face easily and smiled, pleased with himself.
Distantly, she noticed that Xavier had left.
“You started that?” Steve laughed. “That was like two weeks ago! What the hell happened to you, man?”
“If I told you that, there’d be no fun watching everyone make up their own answer.”
Steve rolled his eyes. “Take your panda and go then. Some friend you are.”
“Love you too,” Tyler said to Steve before picking up the stuffed animal, obnoxiously kissing Wednesday on the cheek and saying, “For me? You shouldn’t have.”
Wednesday scowled and vigorously wiped his spit off her face. “I can still stab you again,” she reminded him, pulling the dart out of his side.
“Promises promises,” Tyler teased, letting her go and walking backwards. “I’m going to throw this in the car and maybe get some stitches. Then I can show you around this wonderful event Jericho insists on every year.”
Wednesday crossed her arms and watched him leave. “Is he like this with all the girls he brings back home?” she asked Steve.
“That would require him actually bringing any girls anywhere. Most I’ve known him to do is hook up with someone who’s on a bad boy kick that week.”
Wednesday snorted. “That boy scout? The local bad boy? And this was before he went missing?”
“You like him, don’t you? Miss. Burned down my last school.”
“I didn’t burn down my last school. I dumped piranhas in the pool.”
“Well,” Steve said, “Now I know why he likes you. How did you two meet anyways?”
Pleased with this interaction, Wednesday shared a friendly glance, and answered, “If you asked him, I rescued him from a toxic relationship. In reality, I kidnapped him for myself. He hasn’t complained, but he’s insane so that’s to be expected.”
Steve laughed again, at her but not maliciously. It was odd. She didn’t hate it.
“I’ll be somewhere quiet while I wait. Tyler will know how to find me.”
Wednesday circled around the game stand and wandered a little ways into the trees, stumbling onto a faint dirt path and following it until the sounds of the festival faded into small distant things and she was able to breathe easier in the dark and the buzzing of nocturnal life.
Jericho really was quite beautiful when people got out of the way. She understood why Tyler felt so protective of these woods.
“You,” Donovan accused from behind her. She turned to see him stalking over, gun in hand. Raising her brow, she didn’t fight him when he backed her up against a tree and pressed the barrel of the gun under her chin. “Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice what you did to him?”
“You are going to have to be more specific. I do lots of things to lots of people.”
“Don’t play games with me,” he growled, pressing the gun harder into her throat, straining her neck back. “Give me one reason not to shoot you right now and free my son.”
“Do it. Splatter my brains over the both of us and see how that goes for you."
"Tyler won't be bound to you after you’re dead."
"The sun will go out before Tyler allows my death to go unpunished. Kill me and there won't be enough of you to bury."
"You arrogant bitch! You think you know how his kind works but you don't. Monsters like you never will. I will save him from you. I'll get my boy back."
"Then do it. What are you waiting for? Tyler will have noticed I'm gone by now and standing between us would be suicidal. He knows my scent like he does his own. He will find us, and he'll have no mercy for you just because you're his father. In fact, you may even have less chance of escaping alive."
Donovan dug the gun harder, jerking her head back against the tree. She laughed.
"Tyler will resurrect me if you shoot. He knows how. I have nothing to fear and everything to gain. He knows how much I'd treasure the chance to become undead and there's a blood moon coming soon. He'll have me back in a matter of weeks. He'll have me sooner if he takes me up on my offer to fuck me postmortem."
Before they could continue, a clawed hand wrapped around Donovan's throat as Tyler pinned him in place. "I told you before, Wednesday. As beautiful as you are, necrophilia is more of a fun fantasy than a true desire."
Donovan swallowed and slowly moved his finger over the trigger.
"Do it," Tyler warned, "and there won't be enough of you left to bury, father or not."
"Once she's gone, you won’t have to-"
"I'm not following orders, dad. I don't need our bond to kill for her. I'd do it gladly all on my own."
"You don't mean that."
"You don't know me enough to say that. You never have."
Wednesday watched the resolve harden in Donovan’s eyes and felt Tyler’s intent tighten over Donovan’s throat. He was going to shoot, Tyler was going to rip his throat out, and Wednesday couldn’t let that happen.
"Stop. Let him go. Don't hurt him."
Tyler obeyed as he was compelled to, but not without snatching the gun out of his father’s hand and dismantling it, shoving him to the side in the process.
He looked at her confused. "You’ve wanted to hurt him since you got here."
"Hurting him would hurt you. I won't allow anything to hurt you."
Tyler pressed his forehead to hers, feeling for the bruise that had blossomed on her neck. “He tried to kill you.”
"If he was going to kill me, he would have done it when he had the chance.” Wednesday stepped out of Tyler’s arms, turning to Donovan who had fallen to the ground a broken man, devastated at the sight of what his son had become. “He won't hurt us. He can't because he's a coward and he knows better."
Wednesday took Tyler’s hand and lead him back to the festival, leaving Donovan behind.
***
“Did you even have a plan when you came back here? What are you going to tell people about the last year? You popping up out of nowhere is going to mess everything up.”
"Aw, C’mon. I couldn't just let my dad turn you into public enemy number one."
Wednesday glared at him pointedly.
“Shit. Sorry."
"Tell me you at least have an idea of how to explain your absence. No. Nevermind. You clearly don’t. Its fine. I'll figure something out."
"I can do it! I was thinking maybe amnesia or something."
"Have you been watching telenovelas again?"
"Given I have access to a tv, yes."
Wednesday rolled her eyes.
"You have your hobbies. I have mine.”
