He smiled at the counters too, and their muted white marble coloring.The house really was colder than he was used to. He wasn’t Blushing Life, so the temperature difference didn’t bother his skin so much, but he could tell it was off. Colder in the house than it was outside. Strange. Darker too. It must have been his imagination, or a trick of the light his Kindred eyes were picking up.No, it was probably the depressing thoughts running through his mind by entering his old home that was doing the trick. It was the home he’d left behind, the home where he left two women shattered and depressed. Fuck him, he could practically feel the misery permeating the walls, made worse by his memories, when he spied on his mom and sister through the windows. Dad dead, him missing, his mom and sister had only each other to recover from that mess.Jack, give yourself a break. None of it, absolutely none of it, is your fault. You were involved, but none of it happened because of you.Easy to think the. One of the men – she couldn’t tell which – took an audible drag on what she could smell was a cigar and blew smoke in her face.The fumes were overpowering, and she retched. Then she felt a bright spot of heat grow close to her cheek, dancing over her skin. Panic flared brighter than the tip of the cigar and coursed through her veins.“How much do you think it would hurt if I ground this into your eye? Unless you tell me what we need to know, that’s what I will do.”Yulia pulled her head as far back as she could, straining against the back of the chair. “What do you know about a Suffusion of Yellow? This is your final chance before I pass you to my colleagues so they can loosen your tongue. They will not be as tolerant as we have been.”The SVR Agent grew cold. The rumoured methods of interrogation used by the Suffusion of Yellow terrorist network were supposed to be taken from the text books of Pinochet’s regime forty years earlier.Through her panic and coldness, the stiff joints and.
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