22 CONVERSATIONS WITH MY KILLER
25 THE INEVITABLE RETURN OF FLETCHER RENN
32 STRANGERS IN A STRANGE LAND
“Do it,” said Kitana. Her voice was low but urgent, tinged with an excitement that bubbled up from somewhere within her. Her straight white teeth bit lightly on her bottom lip. Her face was flushed. Her eyes sparkled. So eager to learn a new way to hurt people.
Doran turned to the chimney and held out his hand. He grunted, his face going red and the muscles in his neck standing out. It looked pretty funny until his hand started to glow. There was a light under his skin, and it was getting brighter the more he concentrated.
“Oh, great,” said Sean. “We have the power of flashlights. Let the world beware.”
“Quiet,” Kitana said sharply. “Let him focus.”
Sean didn’t like it when Kitana dismissed him like that. Elsie could see it in his face. Angry, embarrassed, hurt. If Elsie had ever taken that tone with him, she doubted he’d even notice. Not that she ever would treat him like that. She wasn’t like Kitana, who could spend a whole day mocking him and then, with one smile the next day, would have him back under her thumb.
Elsie wasn’t mean like Kitana, but then she wasn’t pretty like her, either, or blonde like her, or slim like her. She was fat and ugly and all the dyed hair and black clothes and pierced lips in the world couldn’t hide that.
A beam of light shot from Doran’s hand, crackling and sizzling, and blasted a hole through