The eyes were closed, but now there was an
attentiveness, an alertness to him. Alan stepped back quickly, feeling
foolish at his fear of this pathetic, disjointed bound thing on his
floor. No two ways about it, though: Davey gave him the absolutely
willies, making his testicles draw up and the hair on the back of his
arms prickle.
"Set the chair down there," Alan said, pointing. He hoisted Davey up by
his dry, papery armpits and sat him in the seat. He took some duct tape
out of a utility drawer under the basement staircase and used it to gum
Danny down in the chair.
"Davey," he said again. "I know you can hear me. Stop pretending."
"That's your brother?" Kurt said. "The one who --"
"That's him," Alan said. "I guess you believe me now, huh?"
Davey grinned suddenly, mirthless. "Still making friends and influencing
people, brother?" he said. His voice was wet and hiccuping, like he was
drowning in snot.
"We're not going to play any games here, Davey. You're going to tell me
where Edward, Felix, and Griffin are, or I'm going to tear your fingers
off and smash them into powder. When I run out of fingers, I'll switch
to teeth."
Kurt looked at him in alarm. He moaned. "Jesus, Adam --"
Adam whirled on him, something snapping inside. "Don't, Kurt, just
don't, okay? He tried to kill me tonight. He may already have killed my
brothers.
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