Chapter 77: Sebastian (3)
My heel twitches and I try to kick him under the table—get him to shut the fuck up—but I stop halfway, swallowing a mouthful of dry saliva.
God. How many of them are armed?
I sweep the bar with my eyes. Dim lamps, shadows, faces watching. How many of them are Skinwalkers?
The Greens. If they’re here? We’re already dead.
Why am I even here?
Because I must be, because I feel some twisted obligation to be here. My legs walked me in like they had a mind of their own.
It’s just like with the blue-hanged man. I wasn’t in control, or maybe I was, but I didn’t want to admit it.
I’m about to whisper something—anything to calm Gene when he suddenly screams.
But it’s a grotesque sound, morphing in the middle into something like laughter. Like lust.