Neon signs flickered as I carried Nate to the hotel. He’s heavy with muscle created by internalized anger, sinews strengthened with resolve. Having it turned on me wasn’t new, but the look with which he’d speared me marked me as goblin, a monster to be hunted.
A smart man
would have left him behind. As his brother, I couldn’t.
I’d ensured
no one would find the thing that claimed parentage of me. The symbol I’d cut
into my palm would not heal, my magic tapped.
When Nate woke, he’d see it and finish me.
I could almost welcome the bullet.
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I could almost welcome the bullet.
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