Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 109878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“You know them,” I say. “I can see it in your face. You know exactly who I’m talking about.”
Blue sets the paper down carefully. “I have a pretty good idea . . . yeah.”
“Good. Now you know exactly who I want dead.”
“Killing them won’t bring your father back.”
“No, but it’ll make sure they can’t kill anyone else’s father.” I lean back in my chair. “You said the Crow multiply. That simply getting rid of these won’t change anything.”
Blue nods slowly. “They recruit constantly. Kill four, six more take their place.”
“Good.” I smile, and I know it’s not a nice smile. “Let’s kill them all.”
The silence stretches between us for a long moment. Blue studies my face like he’s seeing me for the first time.
“You’re serious.”
“Dead serious. No pun intended.”
“You have no idea how to be a killer, Saylor. It’s not something you just decide to do one day.”
“That’s why I need a teacher.” I gesture to him. “And you’re the best one I’m likely to find.”
“I told you, I’m retired.”
“From killing, yes. But not from teaching.” I lean forward again. “Show me how. Help me become someone who can end this. I stay here, which makes you happy, but I get what I want. A win, win.”
Blue is quiet for so long I think he’s going to refuse. When he finally speaks, it’s barely above a whisper.
“Your father would hate this. Everything about it.”
“My father is dead because he tried to save people the nice way. Maybe it’s time someone tried the other way.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then I’ll figure it out on my own. I’ll make mistakes, probably get myself killed, and accomplish nothing except adding one more body to their count.” I shrug. “But I’m going to try either way. The only question is whether you’re going to help me do it right.”
Blue picks up the paper again, reading over my list. “You understand what you’re asking me to become again? What you’re asking yourself to become?”
“I understand that these men killed my father while I watched, helpless. I understand that they’re still out there, still killing, still destroying families.” I meet his eyes. “I understand that if someone doesn’t stop them, they’ll keep doing it forever.”
“And you want to be that someone.”
“I want to be their nightmare. I want to be the thing they see coming in their last moments. I want them to know exactly why they’re dying.” The words come out harder than I intended, but I don’t soften them. “Can you teach me how to do that?”
Blue folds the paper carefully and slips it into his jacket pocket. “We’ll see.”
“We’ll see?” I stare at him. “That’s what adults say to children when they want to placate them without actually committing to anything. I’m not a child, Blue.”
“I know you’re not.”
“Then don’t treat me like one.” My voice hardens. “I’m twenty-three years old. I’ve been taking care of myself since I was eighteen. I watched my father get murdered and I survived it. I’m not some naive little girl who doesn’t understand what she’s asking for.”
Blue is quiet for a moment, studying my face. “No, you’re not,” he says finally. “But you’re young enough to think revenge is simple.”
“And you’re old enough to know it isn’t?”
“I’m old enough to know it changes you in ways you can’t undo.”
“Good. I want to be changed.”
Blue runs a hand through his hair, suddenly looking every one of his years. “Saylor, you have no idea what you’re asking me to become again. What you’re asking yourself to become.”
“I know exactly what I’m asking for.”
“Do you? Because once you cross that line, once you take a life with your own hands, you can’t go back to being the girl who sang jazz in nightclubs and worried about rent money. That person dies the moment you become a killer.”
“That person already died. The night they killed my father.”
“No, she didn’t. She’s sitting right across from me, asking me to help her commit suicide.”
“That’s not what this is.”
Blue sighs, the sound heavy with exhaustion. “It’s been a long day. A very long day.” He rubs his temples. “I’ll think about it.”
“When will you decide?”
“Tomorrow.” He stands, offering me his arm. “After I’ve had time to think about what you’re really asking for.”
Chapter Ten
Saylor
Wren appears again, beginning to clear the plates. The meal has ended, and I still have so many questions. And Blue isn’t going to agree to what I want . . . at least not now.
“This place,” I say, gesturing around the dining room and needing a change of conversation. I don’t want to end the meal with “oh hey, will you teach me how to kill people” and then turn in for the night. “This isn’t exactly a normal house. And Grimlock—where exactly are we?”
“About twenty minutes from Grimlock,” Blue says. “Maison Rouge is . . . private. Isolated.” He pauses, considering his words. “But Grimlock itself—Grimlock is where people go when the regular world has no place for them. It’s a sanctuary for the beautifully broken, the elegantly damned. A place where the villains of everyone else’s stories come to write their own.”