Page 234 of Psycho Gods
“Stop playing with stuff,” I said.
“Oh my sun god,” Sadie whined. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m going to stab you with a needle. The suspense is killing me. You know I’m not patient, come onnnn. Just blurt it out.”
“Some things,” I enunciated each word, “just can’t be said.”
“Just give me a hint,” Sadie demanded. “Is it about the ungodly? Your dead mother? Is the cannibalism coming back to haunt you? I always worried that would happen. Is it the kings—because I noticed they’ve all been acting weirder than usual around you lately. Malum made a show of opening the door for you the other day, and I was honestly worried he was going to bludgeon you with it—but he didn’t, and then you thanked him and he turned red like a tomato. It was all very strange. Side note—does he have a rosacea skin condition? I might have a cream recommendation.
I pressed my palms against my eyes until I saw stars. “It has nothing to do with any of that. Please stop talking.”
Sadie ignored me. “Is it the fact that ‘whore’ is carved on your back? Did you wish she wrote ‘slut’ or something a little trendier? I’ve always wanted to ask you that but didn’t want to sound insensitive.”
“Too late,” I said.
She continued, “Is it because it hurts when you’re turned on? Or is it because she wrote it super inconsistently and the w is so much bigger than the h? Honestly, that’s also always really annoyed me. Like how hard is it to carve a word evenly into someone’s skin? The lack of basic decency, and any eye for proportions, is horrible.”
“Are you for real right now?” I asked.
Needles clattered. “Yeah,” she said brightly, “I honestly feel so much better after telling you. A huge weight off my shoulders. At first I thought this whole postbattle hiding-in-a-medical-closet-thing was a little weird. But I get it now.”
“Sadie,” I snapped.
“What?”
“We’re in here because I don’t have a soul. I’m a soulless monster—I’m missing my fucking soul.”
Stunned silence.
“So you don’t want me to give you the skin cream recommendation?”
“No.”
She patted my back. “I will admit, sometimes I also feel soulless because I struggle with making moral choices. I think it’s because of extended time with Cobra, but—”
“No.” I cut her off. “I’m actually missing my soul. I have a hole inside my chest.” I thumped against my sternum.
“Okay, let’s not panic,” Sadie said calmly. “Explain.”
My voice quivered. “The betrothal jewels the twins gave me are linked to souls, and apparently, enchanted jewels can be sentient.”
The jewel of death pulsed against my chest and diamonds vibrated on my wrist as if agreeing with my statement.
I continued, “The twins said that for some unknown reason, the jewelry I’m wearing has gone ahead and completed the bond between us.”
I let Sadie process what I was saying and waited for her to make the obvious connections.
“You got married without telling me?” she asked shrilly. “I was going to be your maid of honor and give a funny speech. I’ve already written it.”
She burst into tears, then started wailing at a heinous pitch.
I pushed my pipe deeper into my mouth.
Why I’d thought Sadie would ever react like I expected was beyond me. I rubbed circles on her back as she sobbed and said, “Let it out.”
“It’s just really hard.” She gasped, dug around in the boxes, then blew her nose loudly on what I could only hope was a tissue. “You would have been such a beautiful bride—do you know how this makes me feel?”
“Um.”
“Horrible. Dejected. Shattered.”