Page 39 of Magick and Lead
“We’ll watch them. And when the time comes, we’ll act.”
He picked up his hat and, without so much as a backward glance at her, he walked toward the door—moving, as always, with that eerie grace. As if he were made not of flesh, but of smoke.
He’s not human. And he made me not human.
The horror of it rose like vomit in her throat.
“I quit,” she said.
He froze in the doorway. Together, he and his two comrades turned back to her. His friends were smiling—a pair of frigid,mad grins with no mirth in their eyes. But Edward looked deadly serious.
“I mean, what would happen?” she said, softening her wording under his predatory stare. “W-what would happen if I said I wanted to quit?”
“Quit.” He said. “Quit the agency?”
She blinked, considering. She hadn’t known exactly what she’d meant when she’d spoken.
“Quit… everything,” she said.
Edward’s friends laughed, a sound as cold as the clanking of iron chains.
His eyes narrowed. “I made you,” he said slowly. “I made you a vampyre, gave you immortality, that you might serve—serve me. Serve the agency. Forever. You are not an employee, Kitty. You are my child. And my slave. And my wife. And my whore. And my soulmate. Just as they are.”
He gestured to the men next to him.
“Bruce,” he said. “Cut your wrist.”
Without hesitation, the man on his right pulled up his sleeve and bit his own wrist. Blood began pouring out, hitting the floor in fat, spattering drops.
“Drink,” he told Kitty.
She started to shake her head.
“DRINK!” he bellowed.
Bruce went to her and offered his wrist. Reluctantly, she put her mouth on it and felt the hot blood thumping across her tongue. It turned her stomach. But more than that, it filled her with warmth and giddiness, like strong alcohol times a thousand. All her senses bristled to life. The pain in her breasts and vulva whiffed out like a candle flame. The deeper she drank, the better she felt, until her body felt illuminated and powerful, her spirits soared, her thoughts became perfectly clear. She felt more alive than she ever had in her life.
For some reason, she suddenly thought of her grandma. Of going to church with her and lighting the pale blue Sophi candle when she was just a little girl.
I’m not human anymore,she thought. Tears filled her eyes and began to spill down her cheeks. She was feeling so much. Everything, all at once. She felt like she was higher and drunker than she’d ever been before. She felt like she was at her own funeral. And her own birth. And her own wedding. And?—
“That’s enough,” Edward said.
Bruce pulled his wrist away, though Kitty tried to hold onto it, like a baby loath to release its bottle.
Just as she opened her eyes, Edward slapped her across the face. The sting of it nearly spun her head around, snapped her eyes open. She put one hand to her throbbing cheek as he knelt before her, his face only inches from hers.
“Listen, Kitty. You want to quit? You want to be free? You’ll have to kill me,” he gestured to the men behind him. “…And all my children. Do you think you can do that?”
She shook her head, her hand still pressed to her aching cheek.
“Then learn to enjoy your life,” he said. “Because it’s going to be a very, very long one.”
He watched her for a long moment, making sure his words sunk in. Then he stood, buttoning his suit coat, and left the apartment, his men following in his wake.
19
CHARLIE
