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“We have one week to get ready,” Lucien says. “We need to study, and we need to be with others who may know more than we do.”

“Looks like an impromptu witches’ conference is about to hit New Orleans,” Brielle says. “Because that’s the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.”

* * *

“I’m scared.” It’s a whispered admission in the dark as Jack and I lie in bed. We spent the day telling the story of what happened this morning over and over again, trying to pick it apart and figure out what the next moves are. “And I’m not alone. I saw the fear in Miss Sophia’s eyes today, and she’s never scared, Jack.”

“She’s worried.”

“She’s afraid. You can’t deny it.”

“I think we’re all uneasy about this,” he says and rolls me onto my back so he can look down at me. He brushes my hair off my cheek. “It makes sense that this third round is the most difficult. That he would escalate like this. It sucks, and it’s not fair, but I don’t think anything about this is exactly fair.”

“No. It’s not.” I lightly brush my fingertip over his Adam’s apple.

“You’re formidable, Daphne. You’re smart, you have a gift, and you have it in you to defeat this monster. You do,” he insists when I start to shake my head. “You just need your confidence. Stop second-guessing yourself. Stop letting him scare you.”

“If you’re not scared, you’re not human,” I insist.

“I’m just saying. You’re the boss here. You are. Not him. The next time he shows you your father, kick some ass. The next time he tries to bully you, kick him in the balls.”

“There’s a lot of violence in this pep talk,” I say but smile and kiss his chin. “I get it. Stop cowering and stand up for myself. Stop giving in to the bully.”

“Yeah. Exactly. We can do this. And we’re about to gather all the tools and weapons we need to win not only the battle but also the war.”

“I guess we’d better get some sleep then, huh?”

He kisses me softly. “We have a little time.”

And in the dark, he reminds me of who we are together.

Chapter Seventeen

“I saw the light over the confessional, and the voice said: That’s the person to kill.”

-Herbert Mullin

“If you want something done right,” he says as he stalks around the living room in the body he’s inhabited, his hands fisting, his breath coming fast, “you have to do it your damn self.”

He’s been using this one anyway. As an errand runner, mostly. He hasn’t used him for energy because he needs this toy to be strong.

How else can he deliver corpse gifts to his Daphne? The photos?

Yes, this toy has done well. He’s a man, much stronger than that little bitch he used before. And the link he has to the girls isn’t lost on Horace.

It only makes it that much more fun.

He walks to the mirror in the dirty bathroom and grins at himself.

Yes, he recognizes the face.

And so will the girls when the time is right.

“We have much to do,” he says to his reflection. “We have to punish them first. They’re so obstinate right now. But, I suppose, kids will be kids. Still, we need to show them discipline, and punishment is part of that.”

Now that he has a body again, he’ll be able to feel the work with his hands. The thought fills him with impatience and the need to get started right away.

It’s going to be a delight—an absolute joy.

A smile spreads over his face.

“Yes, we have much to do. First, we need some supplies. As excited as I am to get started, you just don’t have the facilities I need. But not to worry. We can fix that easily enough. It won’t take long.

“Now, the first thing we need is a workbench. And a very sharp knife.”

* * *

They’re mewling behind him in that way the toys always do when they’re afraid. He’d missed that—almost as much as he missed using the knife on the toys.

“Girls,” he says as he turns to them. He can’t help but smile. The remaining four are just so beautiful. “You must calm down now. I know, you’re excited. I am, too. But we can’t rush. I admit I went a little too fast with those first two. But, oh, it just felt so wonderful to get back to work. Now, shush. Just relax. You’ve only been here for one day.”

He smiles kindly. There are two redheads, and they were hard to find. It’s true that gingers are scarce in the population, so he had to hunt a bit for these two. And now, they’re too precious to waste. He’ll hold them for a while.

The other two, one blonde and the other brunette, sit huddled together. They’re real sisters, which only makes him even more elated.


Tags: Kristen Proby Bayou Magic Fantasy