Page 275 of Psycho Gods

Jinx coughed, a harsh rattle. Still staring down she said softly, “Twenty-five.”

The room was stuffy with heat and too quiet, as if the dead were holding their breath and listening.

She didn’t elaborate further.

Sadie asked, “What?”

A bead of sweat streaked down the side of Jinx’s face. “I recently turned twenty-five years old. My species goes through puberty differently because I’m not from these realms—I’m a soulmancer.”

Sadie stiffened.

Jinx continued, “On the Creature Classification Scale, the High Court labeled me a six when I was just a toddler. The scale only goes to five. They shackled me to repress my abilities.” She held up her bare wrist where I’d seen the gold cuff had glowed.

Neither of us breathed.

Jinx didn’t look up as she spoke. “When I was a baby, the High Court confiscated me from traffickers. However, my saviors,” she spat, “didn’t integrate me into society because I was deemed too dangerous. I was caged and held until my purpose could be discovered.”

She laughed without humor, and it came out as a wheeze. Something rattled in her chest.

Jinx continued speaking like she was far away, lost in some horrific distant memory. “At least the former occupant of my cage was a human monster who had the decency to not be a complete moron—they’d given him a bookshelf filled with treatises on philosophical discourse. As you can imagine, it was the only thing that kept me sane.”

“No,” Sadie rasped.

Jinx jumped and looked up like she’d forgotten we were present.

Sadie shook her head. “I can’t imagine how that kept you sane. When I was being tortured as a child, I just wanted to read fantastical romances filled with smut and depraved acts. It calmed me down.”

Jinx sniffed. “Shocking that a woman of your intellect would turn to such drivel.”

Her haughty demeanor was ruined by another coughing fit.

Sadie either missed the point, was in denial, or was purposefully trying to break the somber mood. She beamed at Jinx and offered, “When we get out of here, I’ll give you a list of book recommendations.” She winked (or twitched; it was hard to tell because she had two swollen black eyes). “Now that you’re twenty-five, I can give you the real dirty recommendations. Let me tell you, you’re going to be sweating.”

“Are you serious right now?” Jinx stared at her incredulously.

Sadie smirked. “It depends on how queasy you get at the word moist. We’ll start there.”

Jinx tried to turn her back to Sadie, but she winced in pain as and gave up by flopping back onto the rubble.

The three of us sat in silence.

It was nice.

“So?” Sadie asked. “What’s the rest of the story? I’m invested.”

“I’m not talking to you.” Jinx purposefully looked away from her.

Sadie asked in an innocuous tone, “Hm. Are you sure you’re not fourteen? You did tell everyone I was your mother.”

Jinx’s head whipped back around. “No, I did not. You did that.”

A headache throbbed behind my left eye.

My half-mutilated leg burned.

I inhaled smoke desperately. “Sadie, stop it!”

She pouted. “What did I do?”