Page 77 of A Mastery of Crows

“Yes.” Gio walks over to a tree and picks up a shovel. “And now Leo knows exactly what it feels like. Quite a few times over, in fact.”

My mouth opens. “Seriously?”

He shrugs, but his eyes are dark. “He could havekilledyou. I had no idea – would have stopped it if I did. I’ll do the same to any man who hurts you. Unless you kill them first, that is. And then he went to fuckingMatteo. They deserved each other.”

I wait as he shovels piles of dirt from a growing hole. “I think this is possibly both the sweetest and the strangest present I have ever received, you know.”

His lip curls up in amusement, a streak of dirt across his cheek. “I’ll try to keep the surprises going, but no promises.”

“Too late,” I murmur, “That bar is sky high now.”

We both take a side of the coffin that emerges around the depleting dirt, heaving it out of the ground. It doesn’t feel nearly as heavy as I expect it to. A foul odor wafts up, and my nose wrinkles. “Well, that’s fucking disgusting. How long, exactly?”

Gio eyes the box. “Since the night you were taken. Maybe a week or two after. I was letting him out and then putting him back in, but Rocco doesn’t strike me as the most organised. He might be dead.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Gio pushes the lid off, and we both look in.

“I think he might be dead,” I whisper.

I almost hope so. He doesn’t look anything like the Leo who buried me that night. Shrunken and pale, his body covered in his own waste. But his eyelids flicker.

I smile grimly down as they blink open. “Hello, Leo.”

Watery pupils fix on me. A muffled grunt comes from behind the grubby gag in his mouth. My eyes travel up to his forehead. Gio frowns, leaning in to look at the fading orange squiggles. “What the fuck is that?”

I clear my throat. “A drawing… of a little carrot cock. I think.”

He stares at me incredulously, and I shrug. “Rocco.”

We both turn our attention back to Leo.

“Your decision,” Gio says.

I click my tongue as Leo’s eyes dart between us. “We could just… leave him here. Poetic justice.”

But as my eyes travel over him, I sigh. “No. I can’t. He’s too pathetic to live.”

Leo starts to squirm, adding credence to my words. Begging noises drag from his throat. “You think he’d want to die, after all this.”

“Rocco said the same thing.”

Huh. Maybe I do have something in common with Dante’s enforcer.

But it gives me an idea. I pull out my knife, the handle twirling between my fingers. “How’s this, Leo? You can die right now, or you can die in that box and live another few hours. Your choice.”

“I would end it now,” Gio says to him quietly. “Because I won’t be opening this box again.”

His head jerks between us both. Considering.

“Nod for yes. Shake for no.” I wave the knife for emphasis. “It’ll be quick.”

He stares at the blade, his breathing quickening.

And then… he shakes his head.

I sit back on my heels, staring at him in disgust. “Seriously?”