Page 126 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

In a certain light, Riley could make a case that Troy was putting some degree of thought into these books, because they’re all from a series Riley likes called The Famous Five. They are not random books he’s pulling from a shelf. He could make that case, but he won’t because Troy Harker is a monster and Riley hates him more than anyone.

As time wears on, that hatred takes shape inside, growing like a physical thing, a tangible second self.

The daytime is Riley’s only chance to see outside now and although the sunny days and blue skies are beautiful, he craves the starry ink of night and his only friend, the moon.

Zachary starts teaching him again, but Riley finds he has little patience for it anymore. When Zachary tries teaching him sign language, irritation climbs up his throat like swift-growing vines. Riley shakes his head over and over, refuses to learn, buries the guilt he feels over pretending such a thing. No one asked if he could hear.

They just assumed.

No one cares enough to ask.

No one is interested.

Riley shuts down and does only the barest amount of work necessary.

Troy isn’t happy, but he doesn’t grill Riley over it either.

He’s too busy.

There’s a lot happening right now that Riley thinks of as business.

Their home is often host to new people.

Sometimes, Riley creeps down the secret stairway and peers around the corner, mouse-quiet as he listens to them speak.

‘Nothing to be done,’ Troy tells an older man. They’re all men, all dressed differently. Some in suits. Some in leather and denim. Some in silk. Troy is easily the youngest. ‘It’s his Estate. He’s owned it forever.’

‘He uses us like toy soldiers, lined up in a row for when he needs us.’

‘He pays well,’ Troy points out.

‘He is dangerous, and he has no code.’

‘Moving on. What other business?’

Someone else says, ‘A couple of places downtown have put signs up.’

‘What signs?’

‘Naturals Only.’

Troy makes a face. ‘The fuck does that mean?’

‘To exclude Paranaturals.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Very.’

‘What places?’

‘Bars, mostly.’

‘All right, send a few guys over. Break some windows and bones. Make it clear—’

‘Harker, that’s not what we’re saying.’

Troy falls quiet, cocks his head. ‘Oh?’