I turned to Avery. You must really hate this club. Let me feel what it's like to have you stretch me tight in your mouth and draw just a little blood. The timer buzzed on the oven, and he turned with a smile.
You know, he said, still breathing hard, you're not supposed to be able to do that, if one of you is human. Not a fine tremble, but a full-blown quaking, as if from the wrist down I was having a fit. If you can't take the heat, Mendez, get out of the fucking kitchen. All they needed was a sign above them that said scared shitless.
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