“You lived in the cloister here in Scotland,” I said, roughly, not wanting to dignify her question with an answer but not feeling like this was not the conversational hill where I wanted to make my last defiant stand.
“Aye, I did,” she said. “It was a village, y’see. I was raised there my whole life. Never left until…after.” She looked out into the distance. “When…your great uncle came, along with your friend Weissman—”
“Weissman was no friend of mine,” I spat. “I tried to kill his ass.”
“You should have tried harder,” she said, then thumped me on the chest, breaking eight of my ribs. “I looked into things, after I first heard about you. Interviewed some old Omega folks—I shouldn’t say ‘interviewed’; I actually stole some of their memories, you know, before your pal Philip Delsim cut them to pieces—and so I know what happened.” She leaned in closer. “You decided to stay in London and make your stand there, with your little friends…” Her expression darkened. “…Instead of helping me and mine.
“You could have saved my family,” she said, voice getting harder and colder by the moment. “My village. You could have fought your uncle with us, there, instead of in London. That’s just typical though, innit? Your family and friends lived—” and here she became even frostier “—and mine died. And now…” She smiled, but it was thin, and pained. “It’s time to pay the piper for that choice, my darlin’.”
She forced her hand down on me, pressing it against the skin of my cheek. I tried to wrestle away from her, but she thumped me again with her knee, and my head went blurry. My skin started to burn where she touched it, then everywhere else. It spread down my face, down my neck, like someone had doused me in gasoline and lit the fire. Trapped between the cold of the snow and the heat of her touch, I burned.
Rose was there, invading my mind, my thoughts, swelling inside me like she might come bursting out of my chest. It lasted for forever, or for a moment, and then she pulled her hand away, eyes rolled up in her head like she’d just had a grand old time.
She let out a long breath, and then wiped her brow of non-existent sweat. “Whew. Have ye asked yourself what would happen if you didn’t take the whole soul from someone? If, instead—” she looked down at me, and licked her lips “—you just…disciplined yourself…and took a little nibble every day, or every few days?”
Rose leaned her face in close to mine, til we were practically cheek to cheek. “You get a little piece of them at a time, like I just took from you.” She stroked my cheek and it burned immediately, her power going to work overpowering mine, carving off another little slice of me.
“What…did you take?” I asked, my breathing taxed and heavier than hers. The cold here burned my lungs, and my breath steamed the air.
“Nothing you’ll miss,” she said, eyes glittering. “Just a little memory from your past, something from your teenage years, some embarrassing, unimportant lesson or two. I steered away from the good stuff—your friends, your loves, the things you really value, because…” She leaned in again, almost brushing me but whispering in my ear instead. “I want to take those things from you in front of you…I want you to watch your friends die, knowing how much you still love them, how much you secretly care…something most people wouldn’t have known about you, but…I see you now, darlin’.” She put her teeth on my ear and bit it just hard enough that I flinched. “I’ve got a little piece of you now, and I’m going to come back on the regular to take another—and another—” She bit me again, and this time it hurt, because she ripped through the cartilage and took a corner of my ear, then spat it on the white snow, which was already turning crimson. “Soon enough, there’ll be more of you in me than in here.” She touched me on the sternum and rested her hand on my shirt.
“I’m going to take a piece of your soul at a time,” she said, standing back up over me. “I’m going to take every friend you have left in your little family.” She looked around. “I’m going to make you suffer. Make it so you never see your home again.” She smiled and leaned down again. “Welcome to Scotland. You’re free to wander about the land here, knowing that—just like the last few days, I’m never more than a heartbeat away.” Then she stood up and started to walk away.
I lay there in the snow she’d made, breath steaming the air, hurting like I’d never been hurt, the memory of everything I’d done to her…she just shrugged off.
I’d thought I was invincible, had told my souls that…but I was wrong.
Rose had taken everything from me, almost.
And now she was going to take the rest.
A piece at a time.
“Enjoy your stay,” Rose called back, over her shoulder, as she walked away. “You know, as much as you can given that I’m always watching. It’s pretty country, even though it’s not your home.” She looked back, and her eyes glittered. “I doubt you’ll ever come to love it here like I do, but…that’s all right. It doesn’t really matter, after all, whether you like it or not…
“You’ll die here just the same.”