Witches' Bane (The Soul Eater Book 2) by Pippa DaCosta

Author:Pippa DaCosta [DaCosta, Pippa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-08-25T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Night had blanketed the office building by the time we returned. Cat was AWOL, and I was glad for it. My relapse had to stay between Shu and me. If word got out that I was feasting on New Yorkers, the pantheon would bay for blood, and Osiris would be forced to act—again.

I hung up my coat and shrugged Alysdair off. My hand lingered on the sword’s grip. Julie Carter’s scream sliced through my thoughts all over again like I was back in her apartment, tearing her innocent soul from her body. I’d felt the sword bite and shudder as I plunged it into her chest, same as another time, another place, with another woman. My memories wavered, voices spilling forth. “More than darkness,” Bastet had told me not so long ago… I couldn’t recall when.

Nothing made sense. How many people had I slain, and why hadn’t I remembered any of it? I knew what I was, what I’d been in the past. My hatred for witches ran deep, as did my hatred for Osiris, so why would I hide from my sins? If this was all me, why hadn’t I dropped the Ace Dante act altogether? Too many questions and too few answers. A dull ache radiated through my skull and down the back of my neck. I set down the sword and rubbed the muscles, chasing the pain.

“Here.” Shu dumped a glass on my desk, poured the vodka, and slid it my way.

Light from the hallway crept across the floor, illuminating Shu from behind. She’d discarded her coat and rolled up her sleeves. Her wet hair clung to her face in places, but she didn’t appear to care. She had a determined line to her lips and an intense motivation in her eyes. I’d seen that look many times, usually right before someone got their asses handed to them.

Her scowl, when she met my gaze, left no room for bullshit.

I dropped into the chair behind my desk, craned my fingers over the glass, and watched the vodka swirl inside.

“I’ve been thinking,” Shu said.

“Dangerous.”

“Have you blacked out in public?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

“Just at night then, when you’re alone?”

“It would seem so.”

“Don’t you think that’s suspicious? If this was all you, why would you forget it the next day?”

I looked up. Clearly, her thinking was in line with mine.

“I know what you are. I saw all of you when you captured me, weighed me, and condemned me. If this was all you, you wouldn’t forget. You’d relish the memory. You got off on the power, the control. If this was all you, you’d be out on the street, cutting down commuters like a biblical plague. You have enough juice dripping from your veins for it, but you’re here, with me, drinking vodka.” She raised her glass in a brief salute, proving her point. “Someone has their claws in you, but not all the way.”

I wet my lips with vodka, let the alcohol bite, and then took a drink.

Shu leaned against my desk, scrutinizing me, waiting for my explanation.

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