Page 102 of Seduce & Destroy

“Give her our name, Kilina, it’s the only way.”

I winked. “As long as you pay for the ring.”

He clutched his heart in mock hurt.

“Oh, and,” I smiled. “She has expensive taste.”

“Go get her.”

“Thank you.” I shouted over my shoulder as I ran out the door.

“Get out of my sight.” His tone light.

Before I properly left the room, I turned around and ran back to him giving him a quick hug. Most of the time he was a brooding menace, but sometimes, very sometimes, he could see me for who I was. His tutelage was tough, and his mantra of ‘no attachments’ was drilled into my head so hard that I missed the message at its core.

Protect your own.

If Laney were to be mine, she wouldn’t be an attachment, she would be a part of me. It would be my mission to protect her until we share our last breath.

“Right now, Kil.” Dad pulled me from my thoughts.

“Okay.”

?

Neenan said he’d dropped her off here, but between the stone markers and incoming mist, I didn’t see her. I jumped out of the car and pursued the graveyard of the little church. Nestled in the middle of the woods, it was overrun by thick vines obscuring the names on the gravestones and providing relative anonymity to those who rest here. The rhythmic call of birds soothed the gloomy atmosphere of the darkening clouds.

On one such gravestone only the town name could be read, but I knew immediately who lay there. I tore the vines from the crumbling stone.

Born on 10th November 1939 in Bilham, England.

Died on 24th July 1997 in Great Tenor, England.

The date of the massacre. A breath caught in my throat as I raised my shaking hand to the name written above those numbers.

Katarina Karstein. I’m sorry, I never got to meet you.

Next to my grandmother's resting place was a gravestone that had been entirely defaced. Galen. I sat down between the graves, just staring at them. I was fortunate to always have an ensemble of family around me, our secrecy thickening the blood that ran through our veins, joining us. Yet, there were two empty chairs at our dinner table every night.

Underneath both, in small, engraved letters, were two letters. E and R. I stared at it, but no answers sprung to mind as to what these stood for. It would be easy to posit that it’s the manufacturing company but there was something embellished about it. A type of attention to detail that was significant, but understated, as if it were a code not meant to be deciphered.

The crack of a branch startled me, and the sound of raven calls ceased.

“You know what those letters stand for?” Laney. Thank fuck.

I looked up at her, lost.

She took a seat beside me. I didn’t have to ask her to explain as she pointed at each letter. “Edward. Ravencroft.”

I furrowed my eyebrows. Why would he ever give a dignified death to his enemy?

“My grandfather never believed in the injustice of it all. He didn’t wish for the union to collapse, if he knew you survived, he would’ve wished for a reunion.”

I caved in on myself, trying to make myself as small as possible. We killed a man who wanted me to live. I had to live with that now, and before I never would’ve thought to regret my actions, no matter how ruthless.

“You didn’t kill him,” she said softly.

“I know, but my bro—”