26
KAIN
It’s not until I’m halfway up the stairs that I realize we’re filthy, covered in blood and guts and pieces of Claire’s shriveled black esophagus. I’ve got a kinky streak, but f*****g in this kind of nastiness is just gross.
We practically run to the bathroom.
The shower in the main bedroom, Markula’s bedroom, is the biggest in the house, which makes sense — he’s the biggest of us all. A bench seat runs along the back wall, smooth gray stone at knee level, the stall large enough to fit at least four people.
I strip my grungy clothes from my body and drop them outside the stall, but I stiffen as Kain turns on the faucet. “Maybe we should shower first, then take this to the bedroom.”
He smiles. “It’s not electricity. I know you don’t believe that, that it feels like electricity,
