Page 84 of Till Death Do Us Part

I settled against the headboard next to her, caressing her arm. “Well, we established that I’m not. But I think you’re afraid. Not of me, but of… yourself.”

She looked down with a heavy sigh, raking her hand back through her hair. “I wasn’t even supposed to have the… other side. The human side. I was supposed to become an animal. To become a wolf. To hunt, to kill. I blame my father. He shouldn’t have taught me piano. Shouldn’t have taught me to appreciate music. You can never completely stamp away the humanity of a song… of a symphony.”

“This side of you is the reason you exist, Vera,” I whispered. “It’s what lets you experience love, and joy, and… and hope. Hope for a better future. And you deserve all of that too.”

She scoffed.

“Besides, you’re still the best at what you do. You hardly need to worry.”

“I’m not.” She sighed. “I could never take Quayle in a fight.”

“I’m sure you could, darling. But you’re so much more than a fighter.” I ran my fingers over her collar, touching her, stroking her. “You’re a woman who just wants… so badly… to have a place she can come home to. And beyond that… to have a person she can come home to.”

She looked down, her eyes closed. “Dammit. No wonder I couldn’t kill you.” She touched the scar on her face. “I should… apologize. For the way I was, just now. That… deep-down part of me. The inner demon. It wanted to demean you, intimidate you, as a way to assert dominance. I tried to intimidate you. You don’t deserve that.”

“Vera…” I wrapped my arms around her, holding her close to me. “You’re just surviving the only way you know how.”

She kissed the top of my head. “You’re right… that Yulia didn’t give me the scar.”

I pulled away. “What happened?”

She gave me a small, lopsided smile. “Let’s go out somewhere.”

“Huh? Um… where?”

“There’s a spot not too far from here. We’ll get dessert. When was the last time you had someone cook for you?”

“Oh, well…” I blushed, looking down. She clapped a hand on my shoulder, standing up, fixing her pants.

“C’mon. Get cleaned up and let’s go.”

“Vera—are you sure you’re okay to go running around after all your injuries and then—”

“Oh, I’m sure. You always revitalize me. Now, are you moving, or should I carry you?”

I didn’t mind it when she carried me. But not when I was worried it would reopen her cuts. “I’m moving.”

Chapter 40

vera

It had been snowing that night. I remembered the sound better than anything else—how the city got muffled. I remembered how the air tasted like fresh snow and gunmetal, and I remembered how the metal grate fence was so cold it felt like knives on my hands. The tops of the fence, exposed metal points, gleamed in the city lights around.

The wind was brutal there on the rooftop. My father didn’t know where I’d gone. I was supposed to kill a man in the docks and intercept a package delivery he was set to receive. I was sixteen years old, and by then I had a solid grasp on marksmanship. My father had drilled me until I could shoot a bat out of the air in the darkest hours of the night, and he’d had me pin up some of my hunting trophies—not taxidermized, just strung up on trees for me to see and be reminded of until the wild beasts ate them.

Reminded that I was a killer.

My hand didn’t hesitate on the trigger anymore. Or it wasn’t supposed to.

But I hesitated with the man. Anton Graves. I knew his name like I knew my own, even though I’d never spoken to him, never interacted with him, and he didn’t know I existed, didn’t know I knew he existed. He had a small house over by the docks, right on the edge of where residential gave way to industrial, and it smelled like copper and smoke, like every breath in was a mouthful of old pennies.

I made it to the house, got through the security systems like they weren’t even there, and I came up behind him in the living room, gun in hand, aimed at the back of his head from across the room.

And I hesitated. Not because of him, but because of his daughter, a little willowy girl who had his red hair and impossibly light skin, like the light could shine right through her. She must have been… seven, eight.

I’d dealt with situations like that before. The girl was supposed to be out with her mother. Apparently the plan had changed. I would set up a distraction, send her away, deal with him. I was used to that. The plan always changed. I was a professional.

But he was teaching her piano.