“Ask away,” I urge, dropping my bag onto the kitchen counter next to where Ryan stands.
“Can you explain as to why you failed such a simple task?” Boston asks, straightening his tie from where he sits.
“Simple?” I repeat. “When is taking out a target ever simple?”
“It was a twenty-two-year-old boy,” he counters. “You’ve taken entire families out at once.”
Myfamily, he means.
“He destroyed the B109 I had; there was nothing I could do,” I answer simply.
“He destroyed it?” Ryan pushes.
“Yes. He knocked one glass out of my hand and threw the other.”
“This is why we tell you to force-feed the target,” Ceilia rants. “Mixing it into a drink isn’t wise.”
“He was a fighter,” I offer, shrugging.
That, and every time I had him pinned down, the last thing I was thinking of was forcing that vial of liquid down his throat.
Something else, though…
“Stronger than you?” she asks.
Again, I shrug.
Listen, it’s not that Idislikethe council necessarily; I’m just not into being talked down to. Being lectured. How about they leave their little circle jerk and do the damn job themselves?
Well, maybe notthisjob.
“I’m beginning to question your competence—”
“Leave the poor man alone,” Joseph interrupts, coming from the bathroom as he wipes his hands on a small towel. “He knows the target’s friend, don’t you, Nathaniel?”
I’m not surprised he knows this—again, the council isveryinvolved. It’s one of the reasons they’re called watchers. But it does make me uncomfortable.
“What are you implying?” I ask, my spine straightening as he walks to the center of the room, staring back at me with a small smirk.
“I’m only asking if maybe this matter is too personal for you. Maybe we should send out a different repressor.”
“No,” I interject, far too quickly. All eyes settle on me, and I feel hot all over. “I started this; I’ll be the one to finish it.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best route,” Boston says, his eyes narrowing on me.
“I’m willing to let you see it through,” Joseph offers, his smile causing something sharp to prick at my skin.
“Joseph, are you certain this is the best move?” Ceilia questions, and she looks shocked by his declaration.
“I am,” he replies coolly. “Because Repressor Nathaniel knows what will become of that boy if he fails.”
The hot feeling that was spreading through my body immediately cools, replaced by something that aches and overruns my insides with frostbite.
I take one careful step forward, my breath leaving me in a stuttered release. “What doesthatmean?”
Ryan picks at his nails, unbothered by my intensity as he says, “I believe you know, Nathaniel. It meanswewill take care of it. And you know that won’t be nearly as pleasant for him.”
“Not thatyouwould care, right?” Boston adds, his lips lifting into a smirk.
