by Colleen Foley
“Light it, little brother. We gotta go see Kaia.”
“What? Why? I thought the shackles and screaming ‘til you have cottonmouth had to wait!”
I pulled away from the house, grinning, as thick rancid smoke and liquid screams poured from the windows.
you sick little shit, she removed the infection. I don’t think the
priest knows that, but I need to be sure. If he still thinks I’m
infected, he still thinks he can control me. I can flatter him, get
close, offer him something he really wants, and then…”
“Wait! Nate…offer him what?
“You. You and that jar.”