“There are clothes for you on the chair by the window. Get dressed. Someone will be coming to take you home in five minutes.”
Then he leaves.
And I hate…absolutelyhate…how much it hurts.
22
DEMON
“You’re pathetic.”
We stay silent as his icy voice wraps around our neck and squeezes.
“Weak.”
Our hands twitch at our sides. Quentin laughs quietly.
“Does that make you angry, boy?”
We say nothing. The silence ticks by.
Suddenly, pain explodes through our face as our head snaps to the side.
“Iasked you a goddamn question,” Quentin barks.
“No,grandfather,” we snarl. That’s what he wants to hear.
Quentin sighs, then chuckles to himself. “I see. So now we’re lying, are we?”
We clench our teeth tightly, pain lancing through our jaw.
He sighs again as he walks over to stand in front of us. We brace ourselves when he raises his hand. It merely lands gently on our shoulder as his eyes stab into ours.
“You know I don’t say these things to bring you down, Vaughn.”
We nod.
“Pain…and resistance against that pain…is what breeds power.”
We nod again.
“I know my methods can hurt,” Quentin says quietly. “But it is those methods that got you to the top. Got you the throne that you were born to sit on.”
We nod slowly. “Yes. We understa?—”
Fuck.
Our mouth snaps shut.
Too late.
Quentin’s eyes darken as he peers at us, then he exhales slowly, his gaze turning cold.
“We,” he growls.
“Grandfather—”
“We?!” he snarls, a little louder now. Then he barks a cold laugh as he turns, shaking his head. “So it’s back to that nonsense now.”
