Page 113 of Till Death

I forced myself away from him, shoving space and time and the ability to think between us. He was all-consuming, but I needed truth. I needed to trust him. “If you want my forgiveness, then tell me honestly. Did you kill that man in the alley?”

Amber eyes fell to my swollen lips. “Yes.”

A jolt of shock betrayed me as I stumbled further away. “You lied?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

He moved in, brows dropping. “There’s nothing I can say that will justify it.”

“Try,” I demanded, placing a palm on his chest to hold the distance.

“To protect you and keep you from hunting answers you won’t find.”

“Are you a Death Lord?”

He raised a shoulder. “I don’t know what I am. I’ve never seen Death. I’ve never been forced to kill a specific person.”

“You hated me for who I was when you were exactly the same.”

He nodded, eyes on me once more. “No one knows. Not Paesha, Hollis, not even my mother.”

“Then why would you tell me?”

“Because someday, Death will come to reap my soul and punish me for breaking his promise to the people. And when he does, somebody needs to know why.”

The ache in his voice, the way he’d laid himself bare, revealing a sacred part of himself, held me in place.

“Can you forgive me?”

“Don’t be greedy, Husband.”

“He’s in his castle. Nowhere near the theater.”

“And Drexel?” Orin asked, shoulder pinned to mine as I stroked the dog curled in my lap while we sat on the dusty couch pressed against a wall of the Syndicate’s apartment.

“He’s… At Lady Visha’s.”

Boo raised his head as Quill bounded into the room. Plopping down beside me, she gave the pup a hug, giggling when he licked her little face.

“Now’s the time to move, then. We have to get into that theater as soon as possible.”

He was up and moving without a second thought. Hustling around the apartment, pulling a few weapons from a slew of nooks and crannies, and plopping them onto the table.

“Throwing knives, Thea. As many as you can.”

She shoved away from the table, running for the kitchen. “How attached are you to the silverware, P?”

“What?” Paesha ran after her, hollering, and then Thea started yelling, and before anyone could discern what was really happening, Elowen came back into the living room and dumped a drawer full of utensils onto the table.

The two women followed right behind her. I stood. Orin grabbed hold of Paesha, tugging her away as he cradled her into his chest. Quill stepped in, taking her hand.

“It’s faster if I can start with metal,” Thea said, so quietly I almost hadn’t heard it.

Something in my heart broke when Paesha nodded, and Thea drew her hammer. I bit the inside of my cheek at the Huntress’s uninhibited sob. They were his. This apartment was Ezra’s home away from the Syndicate house. And little by little, it’d been pieced away, given to those in need. Those who suffered until all that remained beyond the dusty memories were the things Paesha must have held on to.

“Paesha?” I whispered.