“I wasn’t sent here to kill —”
He cut the rest of the sentence off as Amaya did a half turn. Sweat dotted his face, but his expression remained unchanged. Uncaring. Deadly.
“You’re lying and we both know it.” To Azriel, I said, What’s his name?
He hesitated, then said, Trent Fagan. He is a killer for hire. The Directorate had a death order on him, but Hunter had it removed on the proviso he work for her.
Why would she do that, when she has the Cazadors at her beck and call?
They do not work for her, but the council as a whole. Kill orders must be cleared through the council before they can be enforced. He studied me. She is gathering her own personal hit squad; you are one of them, Risa.
But I don’t —
Not yet, he agreed. But it is what she wants, nevertheless. You – and the remaining keys – would give her the ultimate command over not just the council, but the world.
I blinked. Even she’s not that crazy —
Oh, but she is. His mind tone was grim. She wants power. Hungers for it. And she will never be satisfied until all who live bow at her feet.
Wow. Just… wow. And yet it certainly made more sense than the council wanting the keys so they could use hell as their own private jail. Not that I’d ever really believed that particular statement – or, at the very least, I’d always suspected there was something more. I had no doubt that if Hunter did get the keys, then she would use hell. It would amuse her greatly to cast those who annoyed her into that place.
I returned my attention to the vampire. “Look, I know your name is Trent Fagan, and I know you’re a contract killer for hire. Tell me the truth about what happened here today, and I might just let you live.”
Surprise flickered briefly through his eyes, but he remained mute.
I sighed. “Fine. But consider this, the Directorate are on their way, and we both know they had a kill order out on you. It might have been rescinded, but do you honestly think you’ll be given such a chance a second time?”
He contemplated me for a moment, very obviously weighing options. “Living probably isn’t in my future, given capture was never part of the plan.”
“And what was the plan?”
Something flickered in his eyes. Annoyance or acceptance, I couldn’t tell which. But after a brief hesitation, he said, “To kill Jak Talbott.”
“Why gut him? Why not just drain him?”
“Because gutting is the more painful death.”
I clenched my fists. God, what I wouldn’t give for Amaya to be buried in Hunter’s flesh right now. “And who sent you here?”
Again he contemplated me. “What makes you think someone sent me here? That reporter has stepped on more than a few toes in his time.”
“He certainly has, but you’re not one of them. Besides, you don’t work for free, even on kills you desire.”
That last part was a guess, but I was betting it was a correct one.
A slight smile touched his lips. “If you know so much about me, then likely you’ll also know who sent me.”
“I suspect I do, but I nevertheless want it confirmed.”
“And if I tell you that, you’ll let me run?”
“If you can still run, then yes.” Even if he escaped the arriving police, he’d still have to face Hunter. She’d know in an instant I’d questioned her killer, but what she wouldn’t expect was me recording it. “But only if you’re honest with me. And I will know, trust me on that.”
He smiled, but it held little amusement. “The truth will do you no good, because my employer is beyond anyone’s reach. Even the Directorate’s.”
“She may be beyond the Directorate’s reach, but no one is beyond the reach of death.”
“Madeline Hunter is.”