Maybe I should have feared her. What she might have become. The last time I saw Alison, she'd attacked me, tried to steal my crystal from Demetrius.
Was blown apart by the power.
Instead, the boiling hate woke in full force as I grasped her by the front of her shirt-part of me remembering she was corporeal at the last minute-and shook her.
And shook her.
And shook her.
Until my arms ached. Until I was sobbing for air, pouring all of my rage and bile over her, dumping the shreds of my guilt and fury and shattered remains of my heart.
Alison simply sat there.
And took it.
Which made it worse. I jerked her toward me, pressed my nose into hers as I screamed at her my final shred of need in this world.
"Show me my baby!"
Alison finally reacted, twitched.
"You gather echoes. Where is he?" I pushed away from her, stood, spun to face her, power crackling as the girls woke. Finally, something to do, to focus on. Someone to punish.
Someone else.