"Dan, if you really care for me you must drop the thought of him."
His hand slipped away.
"How can I do that? That writin' I was tellin' you about--"
"Yes?"
"It's about him!"
"Ah!"
"When he hit me the first time--"
"I won't hear you tell of it!"
"The blood come down my chin--jest a little trickle of it. It was
warm, Kate. That was what made me hot all through."
Her hands fell limp, cold, lifeless.
"It's as clear as the print in a book. I've got to finish him. That's
the only way I can forget the taste of my own blood."
"Dan, listen to me!"
He laughed again, in the new way. She remembered that her father had
dreaded the very thing that had come to Dan--this first taste of his
own powers--this first taste (she shuddered) of blood!
"Dan, you've told me that you like me. You have to make a choice now,
between pursuing this man, and me."
"You don't understand," he explained carefully. "I _got_ to follow
him. I can't help it no more'n Black Bart can help howlin' when he
sees the moon."
He fell silent, listening. Far across the hills came the plaintive
wail of a coyote--that shrill bodiless sound. Kate trembled.
"Dan!"
Outside, Satan whinnied softly like a call.
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