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STAR

WON’T - TANERéLLE

The setup wasn’t primitive by any stretch of the imagination, but when Anton’s eyes slowly blinked open and he looked around the hospital room, I knew he’d be aware that something was ‘up.’

A man like him used private hospitals that made the Plaza seem inelegant.

Still dressed in my gown, I stood. “He’s awake, Conor.”

The hum of his fingers on his keyboard ceased. “Good. That’s a relief.”

It wasn’t a lie.

There was no antidote for tetrodotoxin, but if treated swiftly enough, survival wasn’t unusual.

Not that I intended for him to survive.

Straightening, I perched on the side of his bed and reached for his hand. “The interesting thing about tetrodotoxin, Anton, is that a fatal dose can trigger symptoms in under twenty minutes. Not that your dose was wholly fatal.

"Why would I deny myself the pleasure of ending your sorry life?”

His blurry eyes flared wide at that, jerking from left to right, and his hands clutched at the sheets, but there was no moving when the breathing tube that was keeping his airways open pinned him in place.

That was the only flaw in my plan.

To keep him alive, he needed the breathing tube.

And, that tube stopped him from talking when what I wanted more than his death were his final words.

“Are you looking for your guards, Anton?” I chuckled. “The Five Points took care of them for me.”

“The least we could do to help such a… worthy cause ,” Conor quipped.

“I suppose you’re wondering why you’re here.” My lips tightened. “I don’t think I’ll ever know what you did to my mother. There’s so much bullshit surrounding her life and death that I can’t see the forest for the trees.

“Maybe you don’t even remember anymore. Maybe she mattered so little to you that you filed it as ‘unimportant’ in your head, but I set myself on this journey for her.

“Along the way, my resolve and belief in her faltered. However, that doesn’t change my origin story, as it were.

“Back then, I was young and foolish. I thought that following in her footsteps would give me answers, but I should have realized how idiotic that was.” Though I chuckled, it was sad. “There’s an irony to the fact that the one man who could give me those answers is the one I’m killing, but you see, my need for resolution can’t supersede the need this world has for you to die.”

Though his head flopped from side to side, I could see the awareness in his eyes—this was it.

The end.

Just… not yet.

Perching beside him, I reached down and stroked a finger over the many, many scars on his chest. “I don’t suppose you’d have long left anyway. Not just because you’re almost ninety, but organ donations are never quite as good as the real thing.

“Not that these organs were donated, were they? Not freely.” I trailed a hand over his arm. “What even is there to transplant here? A new carpal tunnel?” I hummed when I saw the question in his eyes. “Yeah, I figured out what the Brotherhood is. The other side of the same coin.

“The Brotherhood and the Sparrows are Janus, aren’t they? The god with two faces. The god of beginnings and endings.” I smiled at him and it was genuine and wide and loaded with my happiness as I stated, “I can’t wait to disband the Brotherhood, Anton. I can’t wait to tear down the thing you’ve spent your lifetime cultivating. I can’t wait for the Kuznetsov legacy to die out.”

His fingers twitched and I translated that faint movement with ease.

“I’m not a Kuznetsov,” I said with a chuckle. “I’m a Sullivan. I’m a Daniels. I’m a noxxious brat because they’re my family. You are not. You, in fact, are nothing. The moment I cremate your body is the moment I’ll eradicate you and everything you stand for.” I patted his cheek. “Brick by brick, I’ll demolish the Brotherhood, just like we did the Sparrows, but I won’t let them know your name. You won’t even have infamy. You’ll just be a shadow, much as you’ve always been.

“Still, maybe there’s one consolation, Anton,” I reasoned as I stood. “Maybe I have the heart of a Kuznetsov. You made me into this, after all. You fabricated the person standing here.

"I quite enjoy the symmetry of you beginning my journey and me ending yours. And why would I just switch off your breathing tube when this is so much more befitting a man of your history?” With that, I slipped my hands around his throat and whispered, “Do you see your death in my eyes? Eyes that I inherited from you?” My grip tightened. “You won’t hurt another soul, Anton. That’ll be my legacy.

“Yours is one of blood and pain and misery and horror. You’re a warmonger. You made me into that too but I’m choosing peace.” My hands squeezed harder. Harder . “Funny how peace comes with the price of murder.”

As I choked the life out of him, as I watched it drain from his bulging eyes, as his skin turned purple and blood vessels burst, as the machine started to beep, as the alarms sounded, no one came running.

Why would they?

He’d only survived so I could kill him with my bare hands.

These last, final moments were unnecessary. A waste of medication. A waste of an emergency team’s time. But they weren’t a waste to me.

This, after all, was the only closure I'd ever get.

As he took his final breath, I sucked down the deepest inhalation I’d experienced in over a decade.

Abruptly, the alarms disengaged and the machines stopped their functions.

Conor moved behind me, his hands settling on my wrists as he carefully pried mine away from my grandfather’s throat, informing me, “Everything’s ready for the next phase.”

I blinked and allowed my arms to relax as he shuffled me away from the corpse. Then, he tugged me into him, holding me in a tight embrace that I didn’t know, until he graced me with it, was the only thing likely to keep me together.

“He needed to die, Star,” he whispered in my ear. “We’ll find the answers you need some other way, hmm?”

My fingers tightened around nothing, then as I clutched at him, I rasped, “He’ll be the last person I ever kill, Conor, with these hands.”

“If you say so,” he appeased, his tone soothing.

“I do.”

He hummed. “Are you ready? They’re waiting.”

For a moment, I felt lightheaded. That was when I realized I was holding my breath. “Can I do this?”

“Of course, you can.” He chuckled. “There isn’t a doubt in my mind that you’re the one person who could handle this.”

My fingers reached for his and I knotted them together. “No. We will handle this.”

“Together,” he said with no small amount of satisfaction.

“Together,” I repeated before I bolstered myself and studied Anton’s still form. “You turned off the alarms?”

“I did.” He sighed. “You know, when Da died, it was surreal to think this powerhouse, whether it was for good or bad, was gone. All that insanity housed within a skin suit.”

I coughed out a hoarse laugh. “That’s one way of thinking about it.”

“You can mourn what should have been,” he whispered in my ear.

“Do you?”

“No matter what I thought of Da, there was no denying that I never could have told him about Father McKenna. He’d never have believed me. Not back then. I don’t think he’d have believed me now. He betrayed me a long time ago in that sense. Didn’t mean I didn’t love him.”

“I don’t love Anton,” I croaked.

“Maybe you loved the idea of him. He was your grandfather.”

“He made Hitler look warm and cuddly, Conor.” I tipped up my chin. “I spent ninety-nine percent of my life without a grandfather. I’ll survive. Anyway, I’m ready.”

Though he nodded, I heard him sigh again.

Together, we left Anton’s bedside and moved over to the workstation he’d set up.

Within the same mall that they’d used as a hospital black site for Dagda, it was impossible to tell if it was day or night. Only when I saw the monitor did I realize how long we’d been here.

“I’m lucky you spoil me,” I said flatly.

“Spoil you?”

I peered at him. “Black-site hospitals for dying men don’t come cheap.”

“It was cheap at the price. Closure is expensive.”

That had me swallowing. “I wish you’d gotten that.”

“Me too.”

“I wish I hadn’t hurt you.”

“Me too,” he repeated. “But there’s going to be a long time between now and us being worm food, and the truth is, Star, no one on this planet can make me happy like you can. You’re as unique as the entity you’re named after.

“The things you’ve done aren’t ideal, much as there are things I’ve done that aren’t ideal either, but we see past that. You are who I love. Who I want to be with. Who I want by my side. That’s more than enough—it’s fucking everything.”

His words had a small shiver rushing down my spine. “I used to have a mantra.”

“‘I will not bend. I will not break,’” he quoted back at me. “I know. You whisper it in your sleep.”

“I do?”

“Uh huh. You don’t have any secrets from me, Star,” he teased.

“I’m glad,” I told him, meaning it. “I-I think it’s time for a new one though.”

“Hmm?” The look he shot me was quizzical. “A new mantra?”

“Teamwork makes the dream work.”

His laughter had me hiding a smile. “I like that one.”

“Thought you might.” I turned into him. “I’m not great with words, not like you. I-I can’t say s-such lovely things. I don’t have it in me. But what I can say is that you are my person, Conor.” I stared straight at him. “You make me want to be someone who is deserving of you. You make me want to be happy. You make me want peace. You . Not Kat, not Vana. You. I want to live, Conor,” I rasped, aware that tears were flooding my eyes. “I want to live with you . Can we do that? Can we live?”

His smile was gentle as he cupped my cheek. “I can’t wait. We’ve got a lot to do, Star. We’ve got a lot of life to live. You sure you’re ready for that?”

“I was born ready.”

“You know what? I think you were.”

He smirked and united our mouths in a soft, tender kiss that had me closing my eyes with how perfect it was.

How perfect he was.

Those impossible-to-explain citrus notes that always reminded me of him surrounded me, drowning me in his scent. As I sucked it down, breathed him in, and found comfort in his arms, I forgot for a moment what was about to happen.

That was the power of this man.

“Does this mean I’ve earned atonement?” I whispered, staring into his eyes and drowning in them.

“You have.” He smiled before gracing me with another gentle kiss. “Now, as the woman who chopped off the head of the snake that eats itself,” he rumbled against my lips, “your work today is not done. You’ve still got some Is to dot and Ts to cross…

“No matter how long that takes, we handle this together, and in between, we can still live, baby. We can still have more than we had yesterday.”

With a shaky nod, believing in him, I stared at him and put on the mask I never needed to use when we were alone.

He chucked me under the chin and surprised me by gently pressing down on the wings of my phoenix tattoo that peeped out from beneath my sweetheart neckline. “Hello, Lodestar.”

“Hello, aCoooooig,” I greeted before I turned to the monitor and took a seat in front of it.

There, waiting for me on mute, were the faces of the Interpol team who I’d used to bring down the Sparrows.

Goldstein, Hoyt, as well as Ingridsdottir, Schmidt, and Deschamps.

Hoyt, as always, was scowling. “Why were we commanded to attend this meeting?”

Calmly, I studied her. “In our Brothers we trust.”

Her eyes widened then she, Ingridsdottir, and Deschamps replied, “In our Brothers we trust.”

The second the last word drifted from their lips, Goldstein demanded, “What the hell?” Then, his features pinched as red blossomed on each of the Brothers’ foreheads, then their skulls fractured, blood spurting where a sniper’s bullet blew their brains out.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Schmidt screamed as the other top members of the squad collapsed, some falling forward, others backward.

“Conor,” Goldstein snarled, jerking to his feet. “You?—”

“The New World Sparrows,” I stated, speaking over him, “and the United Brotherhood were the two faces of the same coin, Aaron.

“Anton, with the dismantling of the Sparrows, became the head of that unified group, but tonight, he suffered a heart attack. I am the new leader, and together, we’re going to disassemble the power source, much as we have with the Sparrows.”

His mouth gaped like a goldfish. “Y-You, what? I don’t… Conor?”

Conor, as calm as I, rested a hand on my shoulder. “She’s right, Goldstein. The Sparrows are choir boys in comparison to the Brotherhood.”

“You want to take them down?” Schmidt rasped.

“I do. I want their bones dusting the floor. I want their blood shed and their asses rotting in jail cells. We’re not going to stop until their networks are infiltrated and infected and infested until they’re no more. Do you understand?

“As of now, you are the two members of the team who we officially know are not Brothers.

"Interpol is riddled with Brothers so we’ll keep Anton’s passing a secret, but I expect you to uncover the parasites in your department.

“Anton hand-picked you all, and though I investigated each and every one of you, Hoyt, Ingridsdottir, and Deschamps were squeaky clean on paper. The only way to uncover them is to use that motto.”

Though his features were still pinched and pale, Goldstein frowned. “We’ll burn that route quickly.”

“Then we burn it quickly. We just need to figure out who’s who in the team. Fast.”

“You can’t kill them all,” he argued, terror leaching into his expression.

“This is a cull,” I said quietly. “We will do what needs to be done to eradicate this threat to our society. Do you understand, Aaron?”

He swallowed. “Is there a sniper on me?”

“Yes. Schmidt, too.”

“If you’re going to purge Interpol, what makes you any better than the Sparrows or this Brotherhood?”

I smiled at him. “I never promised to be better than them. But I am promising to do what needs to be done to make our world a better place.

“The Brothers were into child trafficking, Aaron. Organ harvesting. That’s the tip of the iceberg. I’ve got thousands of terabytes of information, some paper files too, on exactly what they’ve done and are involved in.

“I know Conor picked you because you have an unusual sense of justice?—”

“It still ends with the bad guys rotting in prison. Not an early grave."

“It does, and we share that desire, but this is a unique circumstance. You can be the face of this investigation, Aaron. You can be the one who is celebrated as taking down these monsters. You can be the next secretary general of Interpol if you so choose?—”

“Or, like Hoyt, Deschamps, and Ingridsdottir, I can die?” His demand was bitter.

I shrugged but before I could answer, “I’ll do it,” Schmidt interrupted. “I’ll be the face?—”

“Fuck off," Goldstein snarled. "I’m your superior.”

“If he’s willing to do what needs to be done, he can be the last man standing in your team,” was my simple retort.

Goldstein’s nostrils flared. “How are you going to cover up their deaths?”

“I blame the Sparrows, of course.”

“You’re just as corrupt?—”

“‘An ideal form of government is democracy tempered with assassination.’” When that Mark Twain quote went over his head, I sighed. “You’re mistaking me for someone who claimed to be good , Aaron,” I sniped, my patience broken at long last. “I’m not a white hat. I’ll never be entirely clean. I’ll always exist in the shadows.”

“Because that’s what it takes,” Conor interrupted, his palm settling on my shoulder. “You can’t bring these bastards down by riding in on a white horse, sword in one hand, shield in the other, Goldstein.

“If you ever want our world to be less corrupt, then you’re going to have to get your hands dirty like the rest of us.”

He swallowed, but I knew that he saw the truth of Conor’s words in the resignation in his expression. “What’s our first move?”

I smiled at him. “Good decision. Smart.”

And that was when I underlined the words ‘The End’ on this part of my life.

Some endings were beginnings, after all.

One lay on the bed to our left; one sat on the monitor in front of us.

It was fitting, however, that Conor was at my back.

That was where he’d always be.

God, how I loved him.

How blessed I was to have him.

My man. My love.

My everything.