I was serving drinks at the Ninth Circle when I felt it again. The urge. At first it had only happened several times a week … but recently it had crept its way into once a day. And it was strong. Way too damn strong.
For a minute I thought I almost couldn't take it. I shut my eyes, blocked out the noise, and for a moment could almost see it inside of me – a colorless and yet very red mass of something eating its way through. I felt my whole body go tense, and then the wineglass broke in my hand. Shaking, I stared at the shattered fragments now strewn across the bar, the blood staining my fingers. Shit.
I glanced over my shoulder and met Ishiah's darkly suspicious stare. "I'll clean it up," I promised.