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“I’d like to see for myself,” the man said.
The Comerciante Nocturno held out something, and the metal of a blade twinkled in the dim lamp as he angled the weapon toward me. The last time I had been around a knife, I had plunged it into a woman’s chest. I hoped that would not need to be repeated.
Killing people didn’t get easier with time.
My heart clenched in my chest, fear rising like bile in my throat. I knew instinctively that this man meant me harm, and yet there was nothing I could do to resist him. While my thoughts were racing, my body refused to respond to my commands, betraying me.
“Sit, girl,” Omar barked. It was full of threatening power, so I obeyed almost instantly.
At this point, I was mostly concerned with staying alive.
As soon as the man was close enough, I started breathing harder. "Please," I whispered. "Don't hurt me."
"Of course not," the man replied, his tone smooth and reassuring. "I shouldn’t spoil you for others."
Then he grabbed my bare arm and brought it close to his face. My insides cringed. It looked like he was trying to smell me. Then he took the knife and gave a good long slice across the soft skin of my forearm. The pain registered almost instantly, and I screamed.
The man frowned at me and let go of my arm like I was burning him. Then the gold took over. It spread throughout me like the mutant I was. Martina had thought there was something wrong with me for having this power, and I was beginning to agree with her.
Something I’d never thought possible.
The entire room was cast in a subtle, golden glow, and the nameless man stared at it in wonder. For a second it was just that—wonder. But then his eyes landed on my skin once more, and the gold-lust took over.
He took my other arm before I could fight him off, and cut there as well. This one hurt less than the first, but it was still shocking.
“What—”
Omar barked my name, effectively silencing me, and I stiffed as a second round of healing spread across me.
The man holding my arm reached out to touch the bead of gold blood trailing down my wrist, and I got a sick amount of pleasure from seeing him hiss when he touched it. The smell of burnt flesh wafted around me.
My blood was strong, even if I was not.
The man dropped the knife and struck me across the face.
“Get out!” Omar shouted. “Hitting was not in the agreement.”
The man scowled, looked back at me, and then spat at Omar’s shoes. “She is, as you said, golden. But she is not compliant. Who wants to watch someone glare at them?” With that, he stormed out of the room.
Omar followed the man, but I was sure my captor wasn’t finished.
* * *
Ten men visited me today,along with six more women. There was a searing pain in my arm, even though it was completely healed. I had spent a long time staring at it, trying to understand why the pain wouldn’t leave.
But even worse… my blood was no longer red. It was like the Gold was purifying itself of any common cells, replacing them with the magic which had made my life a living hell.
I sat in the chair, unable to move. The fire had long-since gone out, and the room had grown cold. My arm ached, and I shivered, but all I could see when I closed my eyes were the partially hidden faces of clients. The hunger was easy to see. The morbid elation as they sliced through my skin made my stomach churn.
They were worse than Élites, and I added them to the list of people I hated.
As the hours ticked on, my muscles bunched up. Soon, Omar would return. I should be sleeping. I was certainly exhausted enough after a full day of glowing golden.
But I couldn’t get past what had happened to me or the fear of one of them cutting too deep or getting too experimental.
As I stared at the dim corner of the room, something stirred in the shadow.
I flinched and swallowed hard. “Hello?” I called out weakly.
