He hasn't been counting - Bass never needed to. Whenever a hybrid needs to feed, if he or she needs to feed, they will know about it before it's too late. Muscles will start to ache, their strength will fade, skin will react violently to any alteration, and the mind will slow down until it suddenly fires up with pure instinct. That's when you know it's too late. That's when someone has to die.

Bass doesn't count the weeks, but as he looks down to trace the lines of exhaustion and weakness on his skin, drawing a wheeze from his throat, he knows it's still too soon to be this close to the edge. The memory of his reflection showing a new and improved man in the middle of an unsuspecting crowd is still fresh in his mind, bright skin, healthy eyes, practically unrecognizable. Now his head lifts up, face pale and worn, back against the wall, legs flat on the floor. This is wrong. A hybrid's hunger should not consume so quickly. (A hybrid's hunger should not be worn on one's face.)

Panic and paranoia keep him from showing himself, panic and paranoia dictate that he can't be seen, can't be heard. It tells him that they know a monster is among them, that they know a death has been caused by something that won't stop. He might have thought about reaching out, turning himself in for the sake of everyone's safety, but not anymore. They can't know it's him. They will - unless he does things right and survives.

An idle hand crawls on the texture of the eyeless mask settled next to him, bare teeth waiting to cup around his mouth. Slowly, movements strange and uncoordinated, he places it around his head. Then he waits for the shape of his sister to call for him. (It isn't her. It isn't her voice - it's someone new. Someone real.) Then he follows.

Blind steps take him to where Quinlan stands. He's desperate, reaching for the first opportunity he can find, breathing loudly, pacing heavily, standing between walls with empty hands at his sides. His mind is a growing mess or furious demands and loud encouragements, stark contrast to the sudden stillness freezing the distance between them.

He doesn't count the seconds to his first attack.