“Because I made you!” His thoughts scream a dozen other reasons. None of them sway me.
He has to readjust his grip.
From behind us, Chrys says, “I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t make me feel warm and fuzzy.”
“You stole our mate and our unborn children to do saints knows what to them,” Risk reminds him.
“The only reason our speciescanmate with theirs is because of me. I brought her here. You would not have her without me.”
“Do you think that makes up for what you’ve done? To us? To the others?” I snort and it almost sounds like a laugh. “It doesn’t even scratch the surface.”
“You can’t just kill me.”
“We can’t hand him over to the CSS,” Shock says. “They’re afraid of him… he’d probably be out terrorizing whoever he pleases before we get back to the caldera.”
“I don’t like it,” Chrys says, “But I’ve seen these movies… if we don’t kill him, it will come back to haunt us.”
“We killed him before and itstillcame back to haunt us,” I remind them.
The Maker looks back and forth between us. “You’re not murderers. I didn’t make murderers.”
“Sure you did.”
I flinch at Fault’s arrival. I didn’t hear him come in.
“Fa—” The Maker’s tension eases. “You have to stop them.” He actually looks like he believes Fault will help him.
“There is only one thing I have to do, and I thought that opportunity had been stolen from me.”
Risk turns, clutching Chrys to him, blocking the Maker from view. Fault doesn’t take the time to aim before he shoots him. He doesn’t need to.
One bullet to the center of the Maker’s forehead… the same place he put the cavrinskh’s chips.
He falls and hits the ground with a heavy thud.
“May I?” Fault asks, holding out his hand.
I give him the remote that Chrys gave me, and he points it at the Maker, marking him with a red dot before he presses two buttons. I flinch as the cavrinskhs’ thoughts focus on two words: Eat him.
“How did you know how to do that?”
He looks at me sideways and doesn’t actually answer.You don’t want to know.
I hear the others before I see them. And after a single, confirming glance, I don’t look back. Don’t acknowledge Drift until he’s standing beside us.
I keep my gun trained on the cavrinskh… just in case.
“You should have waited,” Drift says, like we’re the ones who called him in.
“Would you, if it had been Kimba?”
“No.”
At least he didn’t lie.
“I assume the Maker is what was on the menu?” Trench asks.
To that, I just nod. Then, I draw my gun more tightly against my shoulder. The cavrinskh are done. But their thoughts have meandered back to something like Kissu’s.
