What is it? Anita is having to eat more often, right? We both nodded. Black everything from the skin out, including the shoulder holster, Browning Hi-Power, and hidden under my hair the hilt of a really big knife. I studied his face, trying to read where this was going. I expected to feel the last bit of it spill between us, like draining the last drop of wine from a cup, but that drop remained.
I let out a breath that was even, and my voice sounded normal, but I couldn't help it. He has let the holy water that ate his body eat his mind, as well. I could do it again. I gave him mild eyes and willed myself to feel nothing, because if I let myself feel anything I was going to be sad, and if I teared up, or worse, cried, that would be it.
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