“Because that’s the one thing he’snot.”
“He’s surely murdered people, Eve! Or ordered theirdeaths.”
Gazes prickled the back of myneck.
Eve flashed a hard stare at the two Verities behind me. “Notinnocents.”
Forcing myself to calm down, I murmured, “How do you know so much about this guyanyway?”
“Because I met someone during one of my missions who took him on. So, I looked him up. He’s a Triple because he runs the Court of Demons. All you have to do is get him to canceloneoperation—like make him reconsider extorting some high-rolling businessman or get him to help one person—and you get a hundred feathers. How hard can thatbe?”
“All I have to do?” A snort scraped down my nostrils and made them flare. “Eve, he’s been in the system seventeen years.” I flung my hand toward the number of Fletchings below Jarod’s sinner score, my fingers cutting through the three-dimensional projection. “One hundred and thirty-one people have tried to reform him.One hundred and thirty-one, Eve. And his score hasn’t wavered once, which means that none of them succeeded. I’ve never seen a profile like this. There’s obviously something very wrong with thisman.”
Unruffled by my outburst, Eve said, “If anyone can do it, it’s you, Leigh. The Fletching who neverfails.”
Ihadnever failed a sinner, but I’d also never taken on a Tripleone-hundred-and-thirty-oneothers had been incapable ofreforming.
I stared at the holographic portrait of Jarod Adler again, the dark eyes framed by lashes so thick and curled they seemed pasted on. Could I truly alter thisman?
Eve’s soft hand wrapped around mine again. “At least, try. If I have to lose Asher to anyone, I’d rather it be you”—she tipped her pointy chin toward the back of the room—“than any ofthem.”
I pulled my lip into my mouth and slid it between myteeth.
“Besides, what do you have to lose, Leigh? If you can’t reform him, just come back here and pick someone else. No harmdone.”
No harm done, but time wasted. Plus, he was in France. I’d need to move to the Parisian guild for the duration of mymission.
“If my dad did it, you can too,” Evesaid.
I side-eyedher.
“And France has the bestfood.”
“I’d be going there to work, not to sample Frenchcuisine.”
“You’ll need food to keep your energy up during your mission. Plus, have you ever been to Paris? It’s gorgeous in thespring.”
I frowned. “When did yougo?”
Her gaze returned to Jarod’s. “Two years ago. Around the time you were helping that crack addict getclean.”
“That crack addict has a name: Abigail.” She was a mother of two who sank so deep she lost her kids, her apartment, and her job. She was barely conscious the night I’d found her curled up on a sidewalk in AlphabetCity.
It took months to get her clean, but she’d succeeded, and even though she hadn’t gotten her children back, she’d found stable work that put a roof over herhead.
Eve flicked her hand. “They alldo.”
Did she remember any of the names of the people she’dhelped?
“If you don’t want this guy, then let’s scroll through otherprofiles.”
Before common sense could slap me upside the head, I yanked my hand out of hers and flattened my palm against the panel. I’d give Jarod three days, and if I got nowhere with him, I’d abandon my mission and incur the forfeiting cost of twofeathers.
The machine whirred to life, scanning my handprint before emitting a shrill beep and inscribing my name over Jarod’s, cementing my fate withhis.
The realization that I was taking on a Triple hit me like pounding rain, soaking into my marrow, making me shiverfiercely.
Eve hopped off the stool. “This calls for some AngelBubbles.”
