No Peace for the Damned

been locked inside a secured room while Father had emitted concentrated polonium into the room’s airspace. The polonium hadn’t caused any pain or disfigurement like Father had hoped, so the experiment had been abandoned and Father had moved on. It was weeks later that Markus realized the chemicals had mutated inside him, reacting with his telekinesis to create a new power. He’d kept his new radioactive ability secret from the rest of the family.
    I doubted even a nuclear explosion could permanently kill me. But I really didn’t want to test the theory.
    I pulled both hands from Markus’s back. Then, angling a sharp talon into each ear, I shoved my bloody claws into the sides of his head. He reared back with a shriek. I was on him instantly, launching us against the stairs.
    Our weight and force were too much for the rusted staircase. When we hit, the bolts gave, and the staircase collapsed and shattered in metal shards all around us. I kept a firm straddle on Markus’s chest, both hands drilling into his temples.
    “He doesn’t care for you,” Markus wheezed as he shuddered beneath me. “I saw it in his head. He only wants you as Malcolm wanted you, as all the filthy minds wanted you.”
    The words stabbed me like knives. Much more painful than his pathetic radioactive burn. He had pinpointed my fears. Even more, he’d struck at the connection between Theo and me—the one thing I
couldn’t
control.
    There was a tremor. Like a violent earthquake. The next moment I was in the air. All lingering pain vanished. I peered around the barn. Saw Theo, still gasping for air, Jon and Thirteen at his side. Saw Shane digging through the partition rubble, searching to help the injured hostages.
    And I saw me. On top of Markus, my hands still plunged into either side of his head.
    I was outside myself, looking down on the scene from several feet above. I recognized my hair, my torn cloths. But my face, my eyes and hands, were all completely foreign. I was strange, beautiful, ethereal. I was a monster.
    My eyes swirled, a glowing mixture of crimson and gold. My hands were brown and leathery, joints protruding and claws stretched long.
    I watched as my jaw opened wide. My teeth, pointed and long, were as numerous as a shark’s. In an animalistic roar I clamped my jaw down on Markus’s throat. When I rose, his jugular rested between my teeth.
    My eyes closed. A wave of ecstasy shook me. The taste and power of his blood—metallic and tangy—it was too fulfilling not to savor.
    Then I opened my eyes.

The world was empty. Not black—my peripheral vision vibrated with color—but blank. Void. I was back in my own skin, but the world around me still felt separate.
    I’d killed my brother. I had killed Markus.
    There were murmurs everywhere. Voices, thoughts. White noise. A tattered darkness.
    Then I saw him. I saw my brother—fear and rage forever frozen in his features.
    Strands of Markus’s flesh stuck in between my teeth. The taste of blood and skin coated my mouth and trickled down my throat. As I took stock of this—of what I had done—I had to admit to myself the truth: I…didn’t…hate…it.
    Panic tightened my chest. I had let the power rise up and transform me, allowed it to show itself with talons and beastly teeth. What was I becoming? Or had I already turned? Myeyes shut tight. The murmurs around me cleared into coherent thoughts.
    We need to get the hostages to the police. We need to get out of here. Get out of here
then
go to the police…
    There will be retribution by the family. There is going to be a war now…
    I’m going to be sick! God, she’s still holding his throat in her hands…
    I looked down. Sure enough, the thick, bloodied tube that had once been Markus’s throat rested on my lap.
Oh God
.
    I twisted onto my hands and knees as my stomached heaved. Blood and bile pooled around me until I had nothing left. And then I heaved again.
    Finally empty, I swallowed hard and blocked out everyone’s thoughts. I rose to my feet, legs shaky. Markus’s throat fell to the ground with a wet thud. My knees buckled underneath me.
    Strong hands caught me at the elbow, steadied me. The warmth of my core told me who it was.
How could he even touch me now?
    “Can you walk?” Theo whispered.
    I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Not after what I’d just done.
    “Mag? Can you hear me?”
    My eyes clouded with tears. He didn’t ask again. Instead, he guided me through the barn toward the garage