surface of the world. I could glimpse the spreading stain, corruption welling up and torquing reality one way or another, my blue eye suddenly hot and dry. “Speak up ,” Perry snarled.
He probably could, if you weren’t holding him a foot off the floor and cutting off his air. But I kept that thought to myself. It would probably be unhelpful in this situation.
It was looking like I was going to need all the help I could get. Lights were turning on inside my head, flickering in rapid fire, and the things they showed weren’t very nice at all.
“Caught one,” the Trader wheezed as the fingers in his throat loosened slightly. “We caught one. Watching us.”
“Indeed.” Perry went still for a few seconds. A hot, dry draft reeking of spoiled honey brushed the room. Even immobile, you could see his molecules trying to escape, jittering away. Under his suit coat his back shifted, something straining inside the shape he wore. Horror crawled up into my throat, my brain shivering away from the suggestion underneath. Like a twisted alien body under a blanket, so horribly wrong a chill walks up your spine with ice-glass feet.
I’ve seen that before, though. I survived seeing it. I know I did.
Perry glanced to the side, his profile severe and handsome, a classical statue’s long nose and relaxed mouth. His eyes scorched, and he made a sudden swift movement. A greenstick crack echoed, the Trader’s feet flailed, and the hellbreed dropped him like a dirty rag.
Bile whipped the back of my throat. My face stayed frozen, numb. Keep your pulse down. Training clamped down on my hindbrain; I could actually feel the pressure sinking in, hormonal balance mercilessly controlled, heartbeat and respiration struggling to escape those iron fingers.
Mikhail was always on me to keep my pulse down. I stared at the body as it slumped to the side, twitching and juddering, dusky corruption racing through its tissues. The naked, hairless chest, the ribs flared oddly to support different musculature, legs in a pair of fluttering black pants caked with something filthy and iron-smelling at the bottom. The stink of death-loosened sphincters ballooned out, exploding across the sterile unsmell, and I shivered.
Then I stilled, hoping that hadn’t been a mistake.
“There’s no need to fear.” Was he trying to sound soothing ? Perry rolled his shoulders back in their sockets, cartilage crunching. “This will only take a moment, darling mine. You can even watch.”
He stood there, staring to the side, the indigo threads in the whites of his eyes swelling and retreating obscenely. As if expecting a reply.
I searched for something to say. Finally, I cleared my throat again. “Is that what’s called killing the messenger?”
He actually laughed , and the horrible thing wasn’t how loud it was. No, it was the sheer gleeful hatred, his lips smacking like I’d just told the world’s funniest joke. The laugh cut off in midstream as more swelling crackles slid around under his pale, perfect skin.
“You could say that.” He stepped daintily aside as the corpse’s legs jerked. “But it’s also a lesson. They shouldn’t interrupt me, not while I’m with you .” A sidelong glance, sipping at my face. “Come along. This should be… instructive .”
What else could I do? I followed.
* * *
Down on the ground floor, twenty seconds spent passing from one iron door to another along the edge of the vast belly of the Monde. The damned paid no attention, writhing against each other while the disco ball spun slightly faster and the music took on a screaming, spiked edge. I glanced out over their sea of chains and leather and slim legs, sweet curves and the bloom of powdery rot on each of them, and something else lit up inside my head.
Hunter, Jill. You’re a hunter. And these are what you kill.
Which opened up huge new vistas of contemplation I had no luxury to indulge in, because this second door gave onto a hall lit by low bloody
He probably could, if you weren’t holding him a foot off the floor and cutting off his air. But I kept that thought to myself. It would probably be unhelpful in this situation.
It was looking like I was going to need all the help I could get. Lights were turning on inside my head, flickering in rapid fire, and the things they showed weren’t very nice at all.
“Caught one,” the Trader wheezed as the fingers in his throat loosened slightly. “We caught one. Watching us.”
“Indeed.” Perry went still for a few seconds. A hot, dry draft reeking of spoiled honey brushed the room. Even immobile, you could see his molecules trying to escape, jittering away. Under his suit coat his back shifted, something straining inside the shape he wore. Horror crawled up into my throat, my brain shivering away from the suggestion underneath. Like a twisted alien body under a blanket, so horribly wrong a chill walks up your spine with ice-glass feet.
I’ve seen that before, though. I survived seeing it. I know I did.
Perry glanced to the side, his profile severe and handsome, a classical statue’s long nose and relaxed mouth. His eyes scorched, and he made a sudden swift movement. A greenstick crack echoed, the Trader’s feet flailed, and the hellbreed dropped him like a dirty rag.
Bile whipped the back of my throat. My face stayed frozen, numb. Keep your pulse down. Training clamped down on my hindbrain; I could actually feel the pressure sinking in, hormonal balance mercilessly controlled, heartbeat and respiration struggling to escape those iron fingers.
Mikhail was always on me to keep my pulse down. I stared at the body as it slumped to the side, twitching and juddering, dusky corruption racing through its tissues. The naked, hairless chest, the ribs flared oddly to support different musculature, legs in a pair of fluttering black pants caked with something filthy and iron-smelling at the bottom. The stink of death-loosened sphincters ballooned out, exploding across the sterile unsmell, and I shivered.
Then I stilled, hoping that hadn’t been a mistake.
“There’s no need to fear.” Was he trying to sound soothing ? Perry rolled his shoulders back in their sockets, cartilage crunching. “This will only take a moment, darling mine. You can even watch.”
He stood there, staring to the side, the indigo threads in the whites of his eyes swelling and retreating obscenely. As if expecting a reply.
I searched for something to say. Finally, I cleared my throat again. “Is that what’s called killing the messenger?”
He actually laughed , and the horrible thing wasn’t how loud it was. No, it was the sheer gleeful hatred, his lips smacking like I’d just told the world’s funniest joke. The laugh cut off in midstream as more swelling crackles slid around under his pale, perfect skin.
“You could say that.” He stepped daintily aside as the corpse’s legs jerked. “But it’s also a lesson. They shouldn’t interrupt me, not while I’m with you .” A sidelong glance, sipping at my face. “Come along. This should be… instructive .”
What else could I do? I followed.
* * *
Down on the ground floor, twenty seconds spent passing from one iron door to another along the edge of the vast belly of the Monde. The damned paid no attention, writhing against each other while the disco ball spun slightly faster and the music took on a screaming, spiked edge. I glanced out over their sea of chains and leather and slim legs, sweet curves and the bloom of powdery rot on each of them, and something else lit up inside my head.
Hunter, Jill. You’re a hunter. And these are what you kill.
Which opened up huge new vistas of contemplation I had no luxury to indulge in, because this second door gave onto a hall lit by low bloody
Similar Books
