Not that she’ll care that I killed Simon. It’s more of an inconvenience than anything.
I just don’t want to answer questions right now.
Killian sighs, annoyed. “You know she’ll figure it out when there’s no doctor on duty, Prince.”
“Killian.”
“Fine.” He slips his phone into his pocket. “I’ll grab Maeve’s car.”
“You know she hates it when you take it.”
Bored, black eyes gaze at me. “What are you going to do, Prince? Put him on your bike and ride him through the streets to the fire pit? You don’t think someone will notice the corpse unable to hang on?”
He has a point.“Just be quick.”
35
HAYES
The raging inferno before us feels muted in the Berkshires, the dark forest hiding us among the animals in the shadows.
It took less time getting here with Killian’s erratic driving, as we avoided stopping at any red lights. How we didn’t get picked up by the cops was sheer luck.
Simon’s body is in the flames, the scent of burnt hair and singed blood boiling into the air. As disgusting as the smells are, this place is my escape. I can be alone here, in the quiet, watching my prey dissolve. Mistakes gone, darkness buried away, here, I’m free and all my secrets are erased.
Collins was never free.She was never safe. I thought being Ferguson’s favorite allotted her some kind of protection in this world. I teased her about it—envied her. He kept her guarded, showed off her accomplishments while the rest of the kids were ignored. How was I to know differently?
But she was used differently, just another kid Ferguson could harm.
A beer bottle appears in front of my face, Killian sitting beside me on the rotted log.
I don’t dare drink from it.
Rolling his eyes, the reaper takes my beer, sipping from it, then his own. “Happy?”
“Not really. You’d poison us both just to get me.”
Chuckling, he nods. “Fair point. But why kill you now, when the trials are a better option?”
“Asshole,” I mutter, taking a deep swing from the bottle.
We sit in silence, only the crackling of branches and bones the sounds around us. Most animals have avoided this area, the scent of death too strong to compel them to investigate. It’s just us and our thoughts.
It’s also really fucking weird to be sitting here, quietly, with the reaper. A man who met me as a teen and promptly threatened. A man who rigged this entire situation to screw me out of a spot next to Maeve, just because I kept him from her.
He’s petty, jealous, and dangerous. And we’re sharing beers in front of a fire like it’s a campout.
“Do I want to know why Simon is in the pit?”
“Does it matter?”
“Not really.” He shrugs, sipping from his bottle. He digs out a cigarette from his jacket, holding one out to me. “Simon would have died sooner or later. By my hand or Maeve’s. I’m just curious how it came to be by you.”
I don’t take the cigarette, apprehension rising. “What the fuck is happening right now? Why are you being nice to me?”
The smile I get is cold, but not violent. Not like it’s been. “I’ve never hated you, Prince.”
“Bullshit.”
