Page 71 of Terror at the Gates

“Why don’t you come watch tonight?” she suggested. “At least you’ll get a sense of the new numbers.”

“What about Cherub?” I asked.

“She’ll be fine for a couple hours,” she said.

I’d already been planning to be gone for more than a couple of hours this evening. After last night, I had a list of questions that were likely going to send me into some pretty seedy parts of Nineveh, which was saying a lot, because the entire district was sketchy as fuck.

“I don’t know if I trust myself to be in the same room as Hassenaah,” I said, though a part of me wanted to gloat. “I might punch her in the face if she calls me an ungrateful child one more time. I don’t think Zahariev will appreciate that.”

Especially since he was actually mad at me this time.

“Probably not,” said Coco. “But he’ll forgive you.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said.

“Well, whatever you decide, I’d love to see you there.”

Coco wandered down the hall to her room to finish getting ready. Alone save for Cherub, who was still sleeping in my lap, I checked my new phone. I had one message from my father. He’d resent a picture of my mother’s invitation to the gala with a single note:do more thanthink.

Fuck my life.

Zahariev

My lungs burned.

Sometimes I thought I could feel them disintegrating as they filled with smoke, but I powered through. Smoking kept my mind busy. Occupied.

Without it, I craved other things.

Untouchable things.

“Wait. Please! I’ll tell you everything. Just please don’t kill me!”

Judas Fischer III.

He was the one wailing.

One of four responsible for Lilith’s kidnapping.

The second recipient of my vengeance. Lilith’s justice.

The first was Jadon Chavara.

“We got a list and orders from Lisk, see?Eliminate the threats. Your girl, she was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

I took one more drag from my cigarette.

“Thank you,” I replied before I lifted my gun and pulled the trigger.

Chapter Nine

After Coco left, I spent about an hour sketching. I wasn’t an artist by any means, but drawing a picture of this blade seemed like the safest way to carry it around without actually having it with me or taking a picture, which, thanks to Lisk, was now out of the question. If anyone got suspicious about my inquiries, I would just claim I had a client interested in something with its particular design.

I bore down on the page as I filled in circles representing red gemstones. Afterward, I wrote a description of the blade and drew arrows pointing to different parts.

It wasn’t perfect, but it would work.

While I was at it, I wrote as many details as I could remember from my nightmares. They hadn’t started until I had come into possession of the blade, so I suspected they were related.