EARLIER, WHEN I’D WANTED to draw my knives, I hadn’t felt that there was much point. Now, suddenly, I felt the same urge. And I was no longer paralyzed.
Morag looked at the Beast, concern and confusion wrestling for dominance on her pretty face. She looked at me. Looked back at him. “I’m sorry?”
“Oh, you have nothing at all to be sorry about, I assure you. Neither of you. Her, on the other hand...”
“John.” I did not like the tone of that syllable. “What’s he talking about?”
Stevie looked at me intently, waiting for me to respond. A smile played hide and seek in a corner of his mouth. He took a drink to cover it.
“You’d have to ask him that.” It wasn’t much of a response, but it was all I had.
“Come on, man.” Now the smile had finished playing. It presented itself to the world with a
