His Adam’s apple floats up and drifts down as if he’s trying to control his reaction. I like that I made him react.
He sends me a soft smile. “It doesn’t hurt me.”
“Okay then. Show me.”
“Last chance to back out,” he says, hooking his mouth into a devilish grin.
Hm.
“Do your worst.”
My mouth is possibly writing a check my body doesn’t want to cash, but something about this feels important.
He stretches his neck and nods, mostly to himself it seems.
The first thing that happens is the energy shift, a palpablesomething.Not quite the buzz of an electrical line… it’s more organic than that. Like the subsonic rumble before an earthquake. The way it raises the hair on the back of your neck before you know what’s happening.
Silas inhales deeply as if summoning this energy from the ground beneath our feet. My attention snags on his muscles and tattoos like a goldfish distracted by a fishing lure while witnessing the creation of the universe.
Remembering that I’m an adult, I refocus on his face. Then grip my chest, barely able to stop myself from stepping back again.
I don’t want him to see me pull away.
But hiseyes. Jesus Motherfucking Christ, hiseyes.
Just like in Mav’s initiation and in the shootout, they’re completely black. Shiny, reflecting the salt lamps, even his sclera…black.
Instead of the joyful violence I witnessed on those occasions, this look forces me to think of the things I’m most afraid of. The horrors I’ve read about in my research. Things I’d erase from my memory if I could.
I imagine what that man he killed in the dungeon did to deserve it.
“Y-you make them fill in the blank,” I stutter. “You, uh, you use their fears against them.”
He smiles and the energy reverses. His eyes shift like clouds, returning to the pretty icy blue.
“Why would Blake do this?” I’m equally fascinated and horrified. “Did he know he was doing this?”
Silas’s grim smile is all the answer I need.
“Have you ever heard of a black-eyed child?” he asks. “A BEC?”
“I…” Words die on my tongue as his eyes repeat the color change. “They said that when they found you, didn’t they?”
He nods.
“And you said something before about your father being inspired by an old fairy tale.”
But fairy tales are for children.
A fact which reminds me of the old joke:
A child’s laughter in the light of day is delightful.
A child’s laughter when you’re alone and in the dark is another thing entirely.
Silas, with his black eyes, is terrifying. Hellish. But a child with those same eyes would be a nightmare tattooed to the backs of your eyelids for all time.
Just like in the video.
