The Second Life of Bree | Page 3

a wet tearing sound as
the woman‘s screams cut off. Probably them ripping her in half. I tried not to think about
it. But I could feel the heat and hear the dripping behind me, and it made my throat burn
so bad even though I wasn‘t breathing. ―I‘m outta here,‖ I heard Diego mutter. He ducked
into a crevice between the dark buildings, and I followed right on his heels. If I didn‘t get
away from here fast, I‘d be squabbling with Raoul‘s goons over a body that couldn‘t have
had much blood left in it by now anyway. And then maybe I‘d be the one who didn‘t
come home. Ugh, but my throat burned! I clamped my teeth together to keep from
screaming in pain. Diego darted through a trash-filled side alley, and then—when he hit
the dead end—up the wall. I dug my fingers into the crevices between the bricks and
hauled myself up after him. On the rooftop, Diego took off, leaping lightly across the

other roofs toward the lights shimmering off the sound. I stayed close. I was younger than
he was, and therefore stronger—it was a good thing we younger ones were strongest, or
we wouldn‘t have lived through our first week in Riley‘s house. I could have passed him
easy, but I wanted to see where he was going, and I didn‘t want to have him behind me.
Diego didn‘t stop for miles; we were almost to the industrial docks. I could hear him
muttering under his breath. ―Idiots! Like Riley wouldn‘t give us instructions for a good
reason. Self-preservation, for example. Is an ounce of common sense so much to ask
for?‖ ―Hey,‖ I called. ―Are we going to hunt anytime soon? My throat‘s on fire here.‖
Diego landed on the edge of a wide factory roof and spun around. I jumped back a few
yards, on my guard, but he didn‘t make an aggressive move toward me. ―Yeah,‖ he said.
―I just wanted some distance between me and the lunatics.‖ He smiled, all friendly, and I
stared at him. This Diego guy wasn‘t like the others. He was kind of…calm, I guess was
the word. Normal. Not normal now, but normal before. His eyes were a darker red than
mine. He must have been around for a while, like I‘d heard. From the street below came
the sounds of nighttime in a slummier part of Seattle. A few cars, music with heavy bass,
a couple of people walking with nervous, fast steps, some drunk bum singing off-key in
the distance. ―You‘re Bree, right?‖ Diego asked. ―One of the newbies.‖ I didn‘t like that.
Newbie. Whatever. ―Yeah, I‘m Bree. But I didn‘t come in with the last group. I‘m almost
three months old.‖ ―Pretty slick for a three-monther,‖ he said. ―Not many would have
been able to leave the scene of the accident like that.‖ He said it like a compliment, like
he was really impressed. ―Didn‘t want to mix it up with Raoul‘s freaks.‖ He nodded.
―Amen, sister. Their kind ain‘t nothing but bad news.‖ Weird. Diego was weird. How he
sounded like a person having a regular old conversation. No hostility, no suspicion. Like
he wasn‘t thinking about how easy or hard it might be to kill me right now. He was just
talking to me. ―How long have you been with Riley?‖ I asked curiously. ―Going on
eleven months now.‖ ―Wow! That‘s older than Raoul.‖ Diego rolled his eyes and spit
venom over the edge of the building. ―Yeah, I remember when Riley brought that trash
in. Things just kept getting worse after that.‖ I was quiet for a moment, wondering if he
thought everyone younger than himself was trash. Not that I cared. I didn‘t care what
anybody thought anymore. Didn‘t have to. Like Riley said, I was a god now. Stronger,
faster, better. Nobody else counted. Then Diego whistled low under his breath. ―There
we go. Just takes a little brains and patience.‖ He pointed down and across the street.
Half-hidden around the edge of a purple-black alley, a man was cussing at a woman and
slapping her while another woman watched silently. From their clothes, I guessed that it
was a pimp and two of his employees. This was what Riley had told us to do. Hunt the
dregs. Take the humans that no one was going to miss, the ones who weren‘t headed
home to a waiting family, the ones who wouldn‘t be reported missing. It was the same

way he chose us. Meals and gods, both coming from the dregs. Unlike some of the others,
I still did what Riley told me to do. Not because I liked him. That feeling was long gone.
It was because what he told us sounded right. How did it