'Now that is a neat trick.'

It's clear that Johnny hates the power, is afraid of it, thinks of it not as something he can do but something he's afflicted with. But that's merely a problem of mindset, and mindset is so very easily altered. And that is a skill that could be useful to him.

'You know,' he murmurs, low and gravelled, 'you could change that. Go back, stop that friend of yours from ever showing you the book.'

His fingertips are still limning the span of Johnny's throat; now he lets them trail up, index and middle fingers smearing up over his jaw, brushing his earlobe. The shift settles his thumb comfortably in the concavity between Johnny's clavicles, and Unthank presses up. Contemplative, fascinated. Not hard enough to choke, but enough to smooth his thumb up, over the bobbing Adam's apple and to Johnny's chin, tilting his face up.

'You could make yourself someone entirely new, someone who had never even heard of Zampanò, had never been... touched by the house. Or,' he runs his thumb down Johnny's throat again, and chuckles, 'well. That's only one of many options.'