“I’m talking about the fact you’re in regulation clothes, with your hair up in a regulation style, with a knife strapped to your thigh, knives only The Academy can buy. Your assigned name is tattooed on your skin like a curse. I know exactly who you are, but what I’m wondering is, if you even remember who you were, Darlia.”
I feel the blood rushing through my veins as a chill seeps through my body. Cayden can’t know; it’s impossible. Every detail about The Academy is so deeply hidden to keep us safe, to keep our identities secure. The Academy keeps us safe, protected.
Dread flows through my body, Cayden knows my name. Not the fake name I gave him, but Darlia. How can he know that? Why would he know that? The Academy protects the identity of all its agents, so how the fuck does he know my name?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I manage, my voice barely a whisper as I wrap my hand around my wrist to hide the faded ink. Cayden doesn’t move or try to convince me otherwise; instead, he nods and takes a step back.
“Alright.”
Alright? He’s just admitted to knowing classified information, and all he has to say for himself is alright? No, no, not alright. So not alright.
“What are you referring to, anyway?” I ask, trying to play dumb. Cayden’s lips curve into a real smirk this time, his eyes glinting with amusement.
“I’m sure you’ve heard the stories of The Academy. Though not much is publicly known, all the citizens know that if they step out of line, The Academy will send someone to kill them. It’s smart, using fear to control. But fear is fragile.”
My heart is racing in my chest. This can’t be known; it can’t be. The Academy would never allow the citizens to know we exist, especially not those from Zone One or Zone Two. Cayden is a liar; he has to be.
“What happens when the fear is lost and the hope is found, Darlia darling?” I hadn’t even noticed how close he had become until I feel his breath against my ear as he whispers. The combination of his words and breath on my skin causes a shiver down my spine.
Something inside me snaps. I know I’m not supposed to kill him, but he knows too much. Unsheathing my knife, I hold it up against the delicate skin of his neck, the metal blade glinting in the moonlight. Cayden doesn’t flinch.
“I never expected any of you to look so…” He pauses, as if trying to find the word, so I finish for him.
“Human?”
With a quick shake of his head, he corrects me. “Beautiful.”
“How do you know so much about The Academy? Who is your source?”
Cayden laughs, dimples now visible on both sides of his lips. His throat bobs against my blade, making me realise he isn’t afraid of me. Every other target I have killed always had fear in their eyes as I killed them. Cayden is doing the opposite; he’s laughing. And it infuriates me.
“I know a lot more than you think, darling. But you didn’t answer my question. Do you remember who you were before they took you?”
“Of course not, I was four!” I snap, cursing myself for exposing more information than I should have yet again. In an attempt to regain control of the conversation, I step back, keeping my knife tightly in my grasp.
“So, what did you do?”
For the first time tonight, I watch his eyes darken briefly. The brown-and-golden irises turn almost black, but just as quickly they change back to normal. “Do you always ask your victims their life stories before you kill them?”
“No, usually I make tea and we have a tea party.” Rolling my eyes at the stupid question, Cayden laughs at my retort. The sound is so warm and inviting that it unnerves me, causing goosebumps to rise on my arms. I’ve never heard someone laugh so many times in a row without fear of punishment. How can he be so relaxed?
“Stop laughing!” How can he find my demise so funny?
Cayden takes a step closer, closing the gap I had just created, tilting my chin up so my eyes meet his.
“You don’t deserve the life you have, Darlia.” His breath is warm and tingly against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine again at the proximity. No one has ever been this close to me, and I’m frozen. I can’t snap out of it.
“And you know what I deserve?”
“Not this,” Cayden says without hesitation. “Life of cruelty and punishment, where death is applauded and mercy is punished. You deserve gentleness, and the kindness you don’t seem to believe you deserve.”
“What if killing is the mercy?”
“It’s not when you do it.”
Chapter 10:
Bang. Bang. Bang. The gun fires through the paper target hanging down the range, each bullet hitting exactly where I want it: the head, the heart, the ribs. The paper ripples with each hit. The metal barrel heats up as the bullet leaves the chamber. You don’t deserve the life you have. Cayden’s words ring out in my mind over and over like a curse.
