I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “I come from a long line of criminals. You think my father is bad? You should see what some of his cousins and uncles get up to in Ireland. I’m a murderer. What kind of genes would I be passing on?”
He tilted my chin up until our eyes met. Then he smiled. “Those are survival genes, baby. And any kids you had would be survivors too.”
My heart melted. I wasn’t all that surprised that Vas, who’d lost so many people, valued my ability to stay breathing more than almost anything else.
19
VASSAGO
The next morning, I watched Mere as she sat at a table in her bar, muttering over paperwork. I grinned at her. God, she was cute.
“Don’t you have something to keep you busy?” she asked mildly, her musical voice caressing every inch of my body. I laughed, opening my mouth to suggest exactly how we’d both stay busy.
My phone buzzed, and I glanced at it. My lungs froze up. Cold rage engulfed me.
“Vas?”
I couldn’t get a word out. My entire body was numb.
“Vas!”
“I have to go,” I managed.
Mere’s face was all I could see as the periphery of my vision darkened. “Go where?”
“Daimonion…” I couldn’t speak. I just shook my head. I should have known. Should have protected him. I thought I’d kept our relationship secret…
Mere threw herself into my arms. “I’m coming with you.”
I didn’t have it in me to argue. Besides, she’d be safer with me. I pulled her out of the bar, catching Orin’s startled look as he walked toward the front door.
I couldn’t say a word. Mere just took my hand in hers, pressing a kiss to the back of it as I flew faster than I’d ever flown before.
I could see the human authorities before we landed. No one stopped us from walking in the front door and toward Dean’s room.
Angela was standing in front of the door, talking to a cop. The cop bristled as I approached, opening his mouth.
“Move,” I said.
He moved.
Dean lay in his bed, his throat slit. There was so much blood… It was hard to believe he’d had that much blood in his body. It covered his sheets, his body, the white wall behind him.
Behind me, I heard Mere take a sharp breath.
“You don’t have to see this,” I said numbly.
Her hand found my shoulder, and I realized I’d knelt next to the bed. I took Dean’s hand, ignoring the cop behind us who was screaming that we shouldn’t be touching the body.
The body. That’s all Dean was now. A body.
A corpse.
Something to be buried.
Or burned.
Meredith said something to make them shut up. Their crime scene photos and fingerprinting meant nothing to me now. I knew who’d done this. I knew exactly who had murdered my oldest friend so brutally, leaving him to die alone in his bed.
