He rested the blade above my brow, digging into the tender burning flesh and dragging it down past my eye, then following through to the chin.
“The mark of Cain,” he hummed. “Welcome to the club, kin killer.”
I hissed, the skin searing with heat as it was cut. I attempted to bite him, just for him to step back. The blade in my shoulder prevented me from tearing the brat to shreds. The skin pulled taut as I sneered, “What are you talking about?”
“You did this,remember? Remember how you helped me slaughter several generations of this Nest? You and I tore through like honey badgers.” He patted my cheek, causing me to flinch. “Your head is on the same spike as mine.”
The lie registered slowly like mud settling in brackish water, slowly, heavily. “You are letting me live?”
“On borrowed time, as long as we establish something.” He turned away, sitting down in one of the chairs. The fabric absorbed the blood, soaking his finely tailored clothes.
I waited for him to continue, but he dug through the inner pocket of his jacket, finally finding his cigarettes and lighter.
“Why not just kill me?” Every shift of my body made the blade cut deeper. I was standing on my toes just to keep it from cutting more. “Or are you too much of a coward to do that as well?”
Silas let out a cruel laugh, amused. “No, Luka. You are not mine to kill. That will be up to her.”
“Is that it?” I scoffed. “You think that delivering her revenge for her will make her forgive you?”
He let the cigarette hang loosely in his mouth as he flicked the wheel of his lighter a handful of times, struggling to spark.
He was just torturing me now.
“See this? I want you to really look around.” He gestured with the cigarette, jerking his head toward the pile of bodies, looking to either side to admire it for himself. “You are the only survivor of this mess aside from myself. No one will believe you didn’t have something to do with this. Every Nest in the world will know that you took up arms against one of the most powerful Nests that exists. I’m sure you are very aware of how far its influence reaches.”
The look in his pale eyes went somewhere far away as he surveyed his surroundings, finally flicking back to mine. “Do you understand?”
I nodded.
“If you try to run somewhere else,” he continued, “they won’t trust you. They won’t hire you. Wherever your name goes, mine will follow at your heel. I telephoned already, taking responsibility—you and I.”
“Why?”
“Because you are going to help me.”
“You are delusional.”
“Perhaps.” He smirked. “Besides, you will find yourself in a better position if you help me.”
“With—?”
“Finding my poisoner.”
I could only muster enough energy to laugh, spitting some leftover blood from my burning mouth.
“Nests should not be thisweak,” he began. “Why was it so easy to reduce them to simple piles of blood and bone? Sitting ducks neatly gathered for slaughter. All in the name of civility. A tradition like that will kill us off faster than any witch hunt.”
“What do you mean?”
“If we only allow those with at leastsometalent, skill, or otherwise... imagine what we could do if we gathered the strongest of us, regardless of class, age, or pedigree.” He stood, taking a drag as he approached. I could smell a metallic tinge mixing with the tobacco.
“Your own Nest? No one will let you live long enough to finish it.”
“Not here,” he said with a crazed spark in his eye. I could see him envisioning his grand prophecy, high on an idea. “But I’ve heard good things about New York.”
5
THE POISONER
