Page 94 of Born for Lace

It is the only way.

“I am coming in.” A deep voice rumbles from behind the door, and I rise to my feet like the perfect predator I am.

I roll my shoulders and pump my fists at my side as the door cracks open, andhewalks in…

The Xin De man who has been following me around the Upper-tower port M. Shorter than me but bigger than a Common man. Blue eyes that glow, a distinct Xin De trait, and softer features, angular, fine, and clean. I’d place him in his second decade of life.

We all grow up fast.

Innocence is dead.

This clean-cut Xin De man thinks he can sneak up on an assassin.

I sneer. “I expected you.”

“Easy…”He closes the door behind himself, and the fool locks himself in with a literal human-bear. “I can help you. If you will let me.”

Don’t trust him.

“Why are you following me?” I demand, my pulse fierce, ready, fuelling me with blood to reap violence.

He clasps his hands in front of him in a comfortable move that pisses me off. “Because you’re hurting people, Lagos. And I want to help you.”

I snarl. “Lagos?”

“You don’t have a name yet, right?” He edges over, respectfully hesitant but getting closer. “I’d put you at… sixteen? Am I right? You would have been given one in five years when they released you, but for now, you’re just a number. Still in training. Still a lot to learn. What is your number?”

Zero Zero Six.

Just Six.

“How do you know all of this?” I ask, suspicious, before defensiveness drips down my spine, bringing hot wrath to my forehead. I clench my fists. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

“Trade?” He laughs, and it’s the strangest sound I have ever heard. “No. I’m a priest. Do you know what that is?”

I lift my chin instead of admitting I don’t know what the fuck that is.

“That’s fine. I’m not Trade-aligned. I assure you. But I do know what you are.”

“Then you know I am trained to kill, remove, and dissolve, so you’re either very brave or very stupid.”

“Do you like the name Lagos?” he asks like I didn’t just threaten him. “I thought it suited you. You leave rivers of blood for me to follow. Something you wouldn’t do if you were fully trained.” He touches his chest. “Please, let me introduce myself. My name is Tomar, it’s an old-world name. The word lagos comes from the same old-world place. Seeing we are to be brothers.”

He's fucking insane.“Stop following me, or I will kill you, and no one will even know we met.”

“You’re getting more and more sick.” His blue eyes study me, and I want to pull them from their sockets so they can’t. “You’re getting very careless. I can help you. I want to help you.”

I lift my chin while my knuckles ache under the pressure of my clenching and unclenching fist. “You can’t help me.”

No one can.

No one has.

No one cares.

“It’s the iron in your blood,” he says. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Now,” I hiss, a dark disturbance wrapping around my tone. Taking one big step toward him, I make him flinch, make him show his true hesitation—a healthy fear of me. “How. The hell. Do you know about that?” I finish.

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