I clutched it in my hand while staring down at Fletcher. His wiry beard had mud in it, as did his clothes from when Christian dragged him out of the river. His black T-shirt and the suit jacket over it were still damp and covered in river mud.
After Christian checked the push dagger in his shin to make sure it was in tight, he pulled out my father’s dagger from Fletcher’s chest. Once he wiped the blade clean on Fletcher’s suit, he offered it to me. “Feel free to cut anything off you don’t think he needs anymore.” When I didn’t take it, he drew close and lowered his voice. “You’ll never have a moment like this again. Conquer your demons, Raven. Slay them.”
But I was busy having what I could only describe as an existential crisis.
After a moment, he took the machete from my hand and replaced it with the dagger. I walked robotically over to Fletcher and stared down at the man who had stolen my light for pleasure and essentially shaped me into a killer.
I trembled with rage when the memories flooded back. The violation, the depravity, the feeling of worthlessness. “I had nightmares for years because of what you did to me. Now I get drunk to cope.”
Although Fletcher couldn’t move, he smiled with his eyes. Incensed, I kicked him in the face, bloodying his lip. Then I knelt down and turned his head to face me again. “Were you always a piece of shit? Have you ever had a kind bone in your body or done someone a good turn that didn’t benefit you? Have you ever loved anyone? Or did hell just spit you out because they didn’t want you? I’ll never get an apology. I’m sure you’d do your best if it meant saving your ass, but if I let you go, you’ll just ruin someone else’s life.” I pressed my father’s dagger against his neck, ready to take his life in the most gruesome and painful manner.
Infuriated that a quick death would be too generous, I stabbed the blade into the ground and then turned his arms upward. When I clasped my hands over his, I pulled his light into me. I drank Fletcher’s life source, feeling every wicked part of his soul as it flooded into my body. I also felt his fear, and when I saw it in his eyes, I held that connection for a stretch before breaking it.
I reached behind me and pulled the stunner from his leg.
Fletcher made a gurgling sound, and his lips peeled back. He was too weak to resist since I had drained most of his light, and blood continued oozing from his wounds.
I held the push dagger to his throat. “Why did you hurt and degrade me like that? Just to get your light fix? You went so far beyond the pale. Why!”
He looked at me defiantly. “Because I could. Because you’re a cunt.” He spat in my face.
“Fuck!” I shoved the three-inch blade through his sternum. Then I shot up and angrily wiped my face using the bottom of my shirt.
“You have to do it,” Christian urged me.
“I can’t. Look, I know I’m not a saint. But killing my Creator in cold blood will make me just as evil as he is. Why can’t I be better than that? Killing him is the easy way.”
Christian glowered. “You’ll never be a true Vampire until you shed your human skin.”
“Don’t you get it? He can’t hurt me anymore.”
Christian threw down the machete. “If you don’t kill him, I’ll have done this for nothing. I’ll have kidnapped and tortured him for months on end… all for nothing. You will have made me into the monster you always believed I was.”
“How is this any different than what he did to me? Or would have done if he had caught up with me again?”
“The world needs justice, not pity.”
I paced the room. This wasn’t just a moral dilemma but an ethical one. No matter which way I cut it, Fletcher was my Creator. If I killed him in cold blood, I would become him. I would betray my oath to Keystone and become, once again, one of the criminals we hunted. This went beyond justice.
“This isn’t right,” I said.
He stalked toward me. “Then make it right.”
“I can’t! I won’t!” Tears stung my eyes as I gripped Christian’s coat. “He has to suffer, but I won’t kill him. Remember when you said that I reminded you of the human you once were? Don’t you see? If you make me do this, you’ll take that away. You asked me to marry you not just because you love me but because you also want something in your life that feels normal—that feels good. If I do this, I’ll have crossed a line. And if you cut off her head, I don’t know what that’ll mean. She hurt you, and I know the pain you carry. I know the rage. But we’re not here plotting out justice; we’re carrying out revenge. If I murder my Creator, and you kill a higher authority member, that could one day split us apart. If someone found out, we would be led to a trial and executed on the spot. How much of our lives do you want them to ruin?”
“Then what do you suggest? Setting them free?” he asked in disbelief. “Because I can’t, Raven. I won’t.”
My fangs punched out. “Murdering my Creator is punishable by death, but nobody ever said anything about burials. Lenore is mentally begging for you to either kill her or turn her in so she can sit in a comfy jail cell. Make her experience what you endured. Show her the same mercy she gave you.”
Christian’s fangs elongated, and dark desire glittered in his Vampire eyes.
“She’ll be awake through every moment of her body wasting away. She did this to both of us, and I think it’s time we repay her in kind.” I flattened my hands on his chest and looked up at him, whispering, “Death is mercy, and they deserve none.” I caressed his neck and then cupped his face in my hands. “We can be Vampires without being monsters, can’t we? Burying them isn’t murder because there’s always a chance someone could find them. There’s always a chance they could escape.”
“And if they do?”
“Then I’ll be ready. More than ever. What does she have to come back to? We’ve ruined her. Let’s leave it up to fate to decide. How many years do you really think Fletcher will last in there? No one’s ever explored that. I don’t think a Mage can regenerate his bones.”
“Why didn’t you pull his core light?”
