Chapter 475: Dance With The Devil
Silence crackled like a live wire, so stifling that it was almost hard to take a full breath without the pressure from the men around me pressing down on my chest.
The RV had come to a full stop, but the tension inside it only grew hotter. The four men around the seated woman had shifted subtly, their deadly focus narrowed to me like I was a rabid dog someone forgot to leash.
But the woman... the woman didn’t move.
She just watched me.
Not like I was a threat, but more like I was some kind of puzzle she was determined to solve. In my head, I wished her the best of luck. I had no idea what made me tick, so if she could figure that out, I’d almost be grateful.
"I asked," she repeated, tone smooth but lined with iron, "why you don’t have a flame."
I tilted my head, ignoring the feeling of different powers poking and prodding at me. If I closed my eyes, it was almost like I could see the four individual powers like they were living things. They were trying to kill me, using whatever power they had been granted. That... was a new one. "Is that the local pickup line around here? Because if so, I’ve got some serious concerns. It sounds a bit cult-ish if I was being honest."
The one who’d been cooking—dark hair, broader shoulders, cold, dead eyes that screamed he bathed in the blood of his enemies... stepped forward. He gave me definite Tank vibes, and I wouldn’t be surprised if they were in the same line of work.
"You’re not human," he announced, twirling the chef’s knife in his hand like a toy.