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“I told you, Kate. I don’t play for anyone.”
“I’m not anyone,” she snapped, flushing, suddenly hurt. “I’m a Harker.”
Freddie gave her a disparaging look. “So what?”
“So you don’t say no to me, not like that.”
He actually laughed—a single, icy bark—and shook his head. “You really believe that, don’t you? That this whole city revolves around what you want, because you have money and power and everyone’s too afraid to tell you no.” He leaned in. “I know it’s hard to believe, Kate, but not everything in this world is about you.” He pulled back. “Honestly, I thought you were better than this. I guess I was wrong.”
Verse 2 - VIKitabı okudu
“Why are there so many shadows in the world, Kate? Shouldn’t there be just as much light?”
“I don’t know, August.”
“I don’t want to be a monster.”
“You’re not,” she said, the words automatic, but as she said it, Kate realized that she believed it, too. He was a Sunai—nothing was going to change that—but he wasn’t evil, wasn’t cruel, wasn’t monstrous. He was just someone who wanted to be something else, something he wasn’t.
Kate understood the feeling.
Verse 4 - IIKitabı okudu
Unlike August, who relied on his violin, or Leo, who could make his music with almost anything, Ilsa’s only instrument was her voice.
Verse 2 - VKitabı okudu
Leo probably made some speech, but August never said anything. He simply closed the gap between them, stepping over and around the clutter, and pressed his hand to Osinger’s collar, where his half-buttoned shirt split open, giving way to weathered flesh. The instant August’s fingers met the man’s bright skin, the red light flooded forward. Osinger’s mouth opened and August gasped, catching the man’s breath as the energy surged into him, cooling his body and feeding his starved veins. It was blood and air, water and life. August drank it in, and for a moment, all he felt was relief.
Peace.
A glorious, enveloping sense of calm. Of balance.
Verse 1 - XIIKitabı okudu
“You can end this,” said the monster, his attention back on the bar. And August knew he could, but he also knew that the moment he did, the Malchai would drive the metal down into his chest, and it would tear past what had been flesh, and what would be smoke and shadow, and into his burning heart.
And he would be gone.
Whatever he was made of—stardust or ash or life or death—would be gone.
Not with a bang, but with a whimper.
In with gunfire and out with smoke.
And August wasn’t ready to die.
Even if surviving wasn’t simple, or easy, or fair.
Even if he could never be human.
He wanted the chance to matter.
He wanted to live.
Verse 4 - VIKitabı okudu
“Mr. Osinger,” said August. “May I come in?”
When Albert Osinger met August’s eyes, he knew. Somehow, they always knew. The man paled, then slammed the door in August’s face. Or tried. August caught the wood with his hand, forcing it inward, and Osinger, in a panic, turned and ran, toppling a stack of books, pulling over a shelf of canned food as he scrambled to get away. As if there were anywhere to run.
August sighed and stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
Verse 1 - XKitabı okudu
“It hurts,” he whispered.
“What does?” asked Kate.
“Being. Not being. Giving in. Holding out. No matter what I do, it hurts.”
Kate tipped her head back against the tub. “That’s life, August,” she said. “You wanted to feel alive, right? It doesn’t matter if you’re monster or human. Living hurts.”
Verse 4 - IIKitabı okudu