“This works because you have the element of surprise,” she says. “People expect others to be so paralyzed with fear by a gun that they cannot defend themselves. Always make someone pay for arrogance.” Taylor picks up the gun and tosses it far away from us, letting it skid across the mats. “You did well today. There are a lot of ways to kill someone, but knowing how to peacefully disengage is just as, if not more so, important. We see a lot of death in the Order, and it is important to me not to add to that total unnecessarily.”
We sit down cross-legged on the mats. Maybe it’s the huge gym, maybe it’s her unguarded expression, but Taylor looks small in a way she never has before. More her age, a teenager burgeoning on womanhood, strapped to her destiny like it’s a ticking time bomb.
“What kind of assassin doesn’t like to kill people?”
She doesn’t miss a beat. “What kind of heiress believes in equality?”
In lieu of responding, I lean back on my palms and look up at the ceiling. Thick cobwebs strain from beam to beam, clutchingto exposed metal and peeling paint. In another lifetime, kids populated this gym, sneakers squeaking against the waxed floors, cheering on some sport or another. Sweat and teenage drama, maybe streamers and garland for celebrations. I envy them, these ghosts of the past, and their uncomplicated lives.
“Do you like this?”
Taylor tilts her head. “What?”
I gesture at our surroundings. “This. Assassinations and plotting and maiming and being maimed. This life.”
She looks around the room, as if taking in her entire life for the first time. “I don’t know anything else. I guess I—” She cuts herself off with a sigh. “I try to not let what I am become who I am.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
Taylor nods. “I imagine you would.”
Her unexpectedly earnest tone arouses my suspicion and dread about the length of time I was under surveillance. No matter how deadly the woman in front of me is, I’ve not been known to beat around the bush. “How long did you watch me?”
Taylor scrunches her face in thought. “Two years?”
“Did you follow me outside the mansion?”
“On a handful of occasions, yes.”
I should be embarrassed, but I’m mostly peeved that my privacy was so frequently and flagrantly violated by everyone without remorse. “How long were you at the ball before I got home?”
She pauses. “About forty-five minutes.”
“Sounds like plenty of time for Theia’s right hand to carry out her mission.”
“Your conspicuous absence made Leader Piccolo agitated and hard to get alone. I had no interest in a public execution. Made more difficult by other guests interrupting me with offers to dance. Including your friend James Danzino, Junior.”
A laugh bursts out of me as I try to picture that human water balloon trying to charm the stony woman in front of me. “And you didn’t fall head over heels for him immediately?”
“I slipped away when he became distracted by Leader Piccolo’s return downstairs.” Body squirming, she stares down at the mat. “He touched me when he talked and I do not like to be touched. As I told you at the ball, I rebuffed him. Impolitely.”
The thought of Taylor being commodified by that man-child makes my gut churn. “He has the charm of a toenail clipping, and half as smart as one.”
“He was the most pompous, self-aggrandizing person in attendance. No small feat in that crowd.”
“Typical of the type of man with whom Papa would like me to marry and breed.” It’s not marriage or motherhood that repulses me, but rather the men who wish to fill that role. They reek of entitlement and a false sense of confidence. It’s a putrid scent. “Ludicrously wealthy, Italian, and stupid enough to be a pawn in an arranged marriage.” Taylor takes this all in with a faintly amused grin, and I sigh. “It was a risky move to ask me to dance. Though I did appreciate the rescue.”
“Being chivalrous was not my intent.”
“You don’t say?”
“But it was not as hazardous as you assume. The most inconspicuous place for me was at your side.” She rises to her feet and pads over to retrieve her gun. “It ensured nobody was looking at me. Nobody saw me. All they saw was you.”
“That’s not true.” I take her outstretched hand and pull myself to my feet. “I saw you.”
Taylor lifts her lips into a firm, melancholic smile. “No, Miss Piccolo. I don’t think you did.”
5
