Except her.
Every shadow veers around her. They rage and thrash and destroy, but they won't—can't—actually reach her. She stands in the eye of my storm, watching my complete loss of control with clinical interest.
"You're upset." She says it like she's noting the weather.
"Upset?" The word comes out raw. I'm moving now, pacing, shadows trailing destruction. "You invaded my compound. Fed my killers. Changed my sheets."
I whirl on her, and she steps back. Good.
"Made them laugh. In my torture chamber. LAUGH." Another step forward. She retreats until her back hits the low wall at the roof's edge. "Do you know what I use that room for? What those drainage grates are designed to handle?"
"I—" Her voice comes out small. "I know what those drains are for. I cleaned them."
The admission stops me cold.
"You cleaned them."
"The buildup was concerning. Probably decades of— of whatever." Her breathing's gone shallow. "Very unsanitary."
"You—" I slam my hands on either side of her, caging her against the stone. My shadows writhe between us, desperate to touch but unable. "I was dying. I had accepted it. Made peace with it."
"That's terrible peace."
"It was MY peace." My voice cracks. "My death. My choice. You had no right—"
"To save your life?"
"To SEE me." The words tear out. "Broken on the floor. Weak. Human. To let them see—"
My hands are shaking. She notices.
"They already knew you were dying." Her voice stays calm. "The tremors. How you favor your left side. How you haven't taken a meeting in person for months."
Each observation hits. They knew. Of course they knew.
"Knowing and seeing are different things."
"Yes." She agrees simply. "Seeing is harder to deny."
"You made me weak in front of them."
"I made you alive." She steps forward. The shadow spear dissolves rather than pierce her. "Alive is not weak."
"It is in my world."
"Then your world needs better rules."
I laugh. It sounds broken. "Better rules. She wants better rules for the murder business."
"Dead leaders make everything messy. People fighting over who's in charge. Very chaotic."
My shadows slow. Still writhing but less violent. More confused. Like me.
"You're insane."
"Probably. But I'm also right." She faces me fully. Morning light catches the bruise forming on her throat from where I grabbed her. My stomach twists.
"I'll be back tomorrow."
