Driving to the Bergs' house, I fumbled a cigarette to my lips. I hadsuccessfully stopped smoking over a year ago, but now I felt the needagain. Maybe ... wanted to look like a detective, one with nerves ofwhisky and steel. A ritual of sympathetic magic, but instead of thespirit of the wolf, I was channelling pulpy fiction characters.Or perhaps I was merely nervous. More nervous than ever before.Accepting the existence of concrete metaphysics was a big step, and Icouldn't be assured that I myself. It wasn’t something she thought of for anything but shaving.Piper looked into her sunken eyes and felt strangely satisfied that she’d followed all his orders. It didn’t make sense. After all, his few words of praise didn’t mean anything to her. He meant nothing to her, he just told her things and she did them.She ran the blade along the skin on her inner thigh and revelled in the sensation. She was naked in the bathroom and she should soon be taking a shower. Piper pressed the edge of the blade. More

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