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I ached. Body or heart? I didn’t know.
Killing hadn’t made me feel better.
Why?
And then I knew. I’d fucked up.
Heliked it.
This was not who I was. No.
NO? NO? NOT YOU?
KNOW THINE SELF, FUCKER.
The king’s laugh settled into a rumbling purr.
Mouth twisting, I staggered away.
For most of the way back, the streets filled with whispering wraiths. My mind drifted, caught in the current of their wavelength.
Unable to sink.
Unable to swim.
Imps and wraiths swirled around me, parting like the sea before a prophet, and I was that, oh yes, I was.
Just not the prophet they wanted.
Slowly....
As delicately as rain pattering on glass...
Humanity returned to me. My awareness settled into my skin, prickling the connections into existence. The color of the material world slowly filled in, surrounding me.
A low grated growl vibrated to my left.
Neme.
At some point, the wolf had joined me. Now, all five feet of her red-inscribed fur hackled as she bared her teeth. A warning.
I realized I had an imp at my open mouth. My hands pushed, trying to force the creature past my teeth—one limb already inside my mouth. A spidery tickle on my tongue. I could smell it. Taste it. An intoxicating mixture of blood and meat.
And desire.
Even completely alert and aware, I wanted to eat this thing.
I craved this thing.
I may even have told the imp to come to me.
Not me. The king.
Pulling it from my mouth seemed impossible.
Muscles locked.
Pain speared my brain.
