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But now, I had to be the one to take away his life. "But yes," I said. "Yes, I can do it. For Pax."
It was mid-morning when we arrived at Victor Kravitz's home, a small log cabin deep in the woods. It was dark and quiet, the only sound coming from the rustling of leaves in the wind.
I stepped out of the car. My men obviously didn't want to let me walk away, but they did, reluctantly, though they were ready to move at any moment.
I walked up to the door, my hand shaking as I raised it to knock.
A few minutes after my knuckles rapped against the wood, the door swung open. And there he was, Agent Victor Kravitz, looking as calm and collected as I remembered.
"Delilah," he said, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.
"Agent Kravitz," I replied, my voice steady despite the dread churning in my stomach. "I'm in trouble."
He glanced behind him–fuck, there was someone else in the house–and then stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind him. "What is it, Delilah? What do you need?" His eyes crinkled at the corners, just faintly. "I'd ask how you found me, but I know how resourceful you are."
My heart ached as I faced him. I took a deep breath to steady myself. "I need your help."
"Of course," he said, his voice warm and genuine. "What do you need me to do?"
"I need you to disappear," I said, feeling bile rise in my throat. "Permanently."
Kravitz's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing. "Why?"
"I can't tell you," I said, feeling sick to my stomach. There was no way the Demon would buy this. I'd lose Pax. But the thought of killing an innocent man tore at me. "Please, you have to trust me. I'm trying to protect you."
He hesitated, studying my face. "What's going on, Delilah? Tell me the truth."
I hesitated, my mind racing. Was there any way out? Was there any way to keep both Agent Kravitz and Paxton in this world?
Kravitz's expression softened, and he reached out to touch my arm. "Is this because the Demon is loose? What does he want from you?"
His sympathy was going to destroy me. It was going to make me confess everything to him in a rush the way I had to him while I clutched a sweating soda that I never touched in the park, watching kids play in the sunshine.
Worse, his sympathy–and my weakness–was going to destroy Pax.
"He wants you," I said.
Kravitz's lips twisted. "I always figured he would come for me sometime."
Before I could say anything else, Kravitz pulled a gun. He held it on me as I raised my hands slightly.
"What do you need, Delilah?" he asked. "I want to help you."
Even with a gun trained at my head, he sounded sincere.
Tears stung my eyes at his kindness.
"I know you do," I said. "That's what makes this so hard."
"Delilah–" he began.
He never got the chance to finish. I stepped to one side of his grip. We were too close for him to get off a good shot unless he managed to get the gun between us, but I already had control of his arm.
I needed him alive. He didn't need to keep me alive. Which left me at a distinct disadvantage...except for the fact Agent Kravitz was a good man. Even as the two of us wrestled for control of the gun, he told me urgently, "Delilah, you don't have to do this."
It was jarring to hear my old name.
I gritted my teeth, twisting his arm behind his back, and the gun fell from his hand. "I have to," I said, my voice strained. "I'm sorry."
