And I bite my cheek, because Randall’s my best friend in the world, and telling him this is going to destroy him, and maybe even ruin every good thing that’s happened to me recently, but the venom is pissed, the venom is bitter, and the venom doesn’t care.

“That’s cute,” I say stonily, “seeing as you’re the one he’s in love with.”

Randall shoots me an evil glare until he realizes I’m not joking.

Y OU DON’T want to do this!” I yelled while leaping away from another lunge by the monster as it tried to attack me. “This isn’t who you are! Fight it! I know you can!”

It raised its head and let loose such a deafening roar that I felt a spark of fear spread through my body. Whatever was standing before me now was cold and ruthless, a creature born from an exponential growth in the song of the city, the energy of darkness. It was huge, angry, and unspeakably heartless: Its insectoid eyes rolled grotesquely in its head as its mouth-tentacles twisted wormlike at me. This thing had all the ethics and morals of a scorpion.

“We just spoke! You’re not Blacklight! I’ll change who I am, rid myself of this poisonous power that lies inside me! There’s no need for us to fight! We-”

One clawed hand swung errantly outward and slammed me hard in the jaw. A flash of white, silence, air. I flew backward a couple of yards and skidded worryingly close to the rooftop’s edge. This thing was strong. Stronger than before. Better stick to the air.

As I rose to my feet and hovered calmly, my eyes narrowed. “Very well. You leave me no choice.”

The creature made a noise, like laughter, and lowered itself back on its haunches.

And then we were airborne, colliding, my cloak swooped out around me like great black wings, its huge body squirming and squishing in response. I reared back my hands, prayed this would work, and then thrust them both into the great black mass of mouth-tendrils that was splayed wide before me and rent it in opposite directions.

Deep within the mass of black gunk, his face lay, pale, stony, eyes filmed over with darkness.

“FIGHT IT!” I bellowed. “MAKE IT STOP! YOU NEED TO MAKE IT STOP!”

“Too late,” he spoke in someone else’s voice. Someone familiar. “Come too far. We must complete the mission.”

“WHAT MISSION? WHO ARE YOU?”

He coughed out a word-it sounded like “cover,” but I wasn’t sure-and then the fluid darkness’s power was too strong. Suddenly it was closing over his face, and the harder I tried to pull back, the tighter it grew. Slithering black tentacles pulled me inward, pulled me deep within the monster itself, while I struggled desperately to free my hands. The beast, unmoved, kept pulling.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Y OU WHAT? ”

I’m with Renée in her room, and she’s staring at me like I just made a joke about her parents. Which, I know, is an uncool thing to say, but the lines that separated the venom and I are getting blurrier by the day. We are separate but equal at this point, and while it used to be helpful, it’s started to get a little intimidating.

I keep my head bowed, trying to keep my focus. “You should’ve heard him, Renée. He’s so bitter and hateful, and at the same time, he’s so alone.”

“This is a joke. Locke, tell me this is a joke.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Please, please, Locke, this is not funny.”

“It’s not meant to be.”

Her hand floats slowly up to her mouth. “You really did. You told him. Oh my God.” Her face goes from dead and stunned to creased and bunched. She shoves me, and I have to remember that I’m angry at the situation, not at her. “Why, Locke? Why in the world would you ever do that?”

“Renée, wait, listen, you still don’t understand-”

“No, Locke, you don’t understand!” She jabs me in the chest with the other hand. “We’ve been keeping this a secret from Randall for years. This thing predates me. Jesus, Locke. How could you? After everything that happened last night, he was probably left in an emotional state, but you can’t…JESUS, I can’t believe you did that.”

The venom speaks up, pissed. “Well, maybe you guys should start, I don’t know, being honest with your friend? It’s not my fault that you’ve lied to him for as long as you’ve known him, and it’s not my fault that Casey acts like a shithead nine times out of ten. Last night was a wake-up call for me. Besides, you mentioned Casey’s crush so casually in passing, I didn’t think it was such a huge fuckin’ deal.”

“Yeah, but I also told you NEVER TO MENTION IT. GODDAMMIT.” Renée starts pacing, shaking her head. “You don’t know what you’ve done.”

“Screw you.” My face goes flushed, my head’s buzzing, but there’s no shame or depression, just pure righteous indignation. “Randall’s one of our best friends, and apparently he’s pretty upset with all of us. Why not tell him that one of the few people he respects, worships the ground that he walks on?”

“Okay, fine, let’s say you’re right, and Randall deserves to know about this. Fine. I’ll agree with you there. But take a second to remember that there’s someone else on this earth who is as short-tempered, melodramatic, and fucking enraged at the world as you are. Think about Casey, Locke, and think about what’ll happen to the black when he finds out that his cover’s blown. Telling Randall about Casey was the only way you could respond, huh? Well, think about what Casey’s about to go through.”

It suddenly all makes sense. If Randall revealed that he’d been in love with me for a while, I don’t know how the venom would take it, and Casey and he have been friends for years upon years. Casey’s black might just explode if he finds out that his cover’s blown. This is a lose-lose situation. There’s nothing about this that can turn out well.

Renée sighs. “This can’t turn out well.”

“I was just thinking that.”

“Glad we’re on the same page. What’re we going to do now, Locke?”

The phone rings. Renée stares at me with a horror-movie look, as if we’d just unplugged the damn thing, but it’s still ringing anyway. Slowly she walks to the phone and glances at her caller ID. She sighs again and looks at me. “It’s Randall.”

“Shit.”

“I’m putting him on speakerphone.”

“What? Why would you do that?”

She doesn’t even look at me, her face oozing contempt. “You’ve helped start this mess, and you’re going to help clean it up.” She presses a button on the phone’s cradle, and then we hear the buzz of the other end. “Hey, hon, what’s going-”

“Let’s skip that shit, okay?”

His voice makes me flinch. He sounds emotionless, cold, dead to the world. There’s nothing in his voice that suggests he’s talking to people he even remotely cares about.

“Honey, look, Locke told me-”

“Shut up, Renée,” he barks. “How long has he felt like this?”

HE JUST TOLD HER TO SHUT UP.

I’m in enough trouble already.

YOU’RE GOING TO TAKE THAT?

“I don’t know.”

“That’s a lie.” His disembodied voice crackles. “How long have you been lying to me?”

The venom drives into my nerves, like a dentist’s drill. “Randall,” I say, “it’s Locke. Listen, man, there’s no reason to act-”

“Don’t try to pull that shit with me, Stockenbarrel,” he snickers bitterly. “I’m no idiot, I see right fucking through you. You didn’t tell me about this because you thought I had a right to know. You told me this because you knew it would hurt me. Well, it worked. I’m hurt. Fuck off and die, you selfish bastard.”

“Watch your fucking mouth, Randall.”

“Or what? Pray tell, what’ll you do, pal? What more can you do to me at this point, Locke? Poison me, beat me up, kill me. I fucking dare you.” He clears his throat. “Now, Renée. How long?”

“Calm down. Let’s talk about this, okay?”