Page 34 of Drawn to Death
The silence after that stretches out, thin and sharp. Sweat trickles down my back. My legs shake, but I force myself to stay still.
Then Vincenzo laughs. Out of nowhere. It is so weird and out of place that I actually flinch. He shakes his head, still laughing, and picks up his glass.
"All these years," he says, "and you’ve never asked for anything. Not a bonus. Not a day off. Not even a thank you." He takes a sip, his eyes crinkling a little. "And now you’re willing to die for this?"
He jerks his chin at me, and I feel it all at once, the weight of being dismissed. Nothim.This.This.
Talon doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t need to. His silence is clear enough.
Vincenzo puts his glass down, leaning forward with both hands splayed on the table. “I never wanted him dead, you know.” His tone is easy now, almost like we are just chatting. “Just quiet. The drawings were becoming a problem, yes, but problems have many solutions.” He smiles, and for a second, his face is almost good-looking. “This is the artist? Huh. You can keep him, Talon. Silence him however you want.”
The words land hard, like heavy pebbles dropped into a silent pond, sending out ripples that keep spreading.Keep him.The permission, or maybe the blessing, to do what Talon is already planning to do. The silent agreement about whatever exists between us, even if I can’t put a name to it.
Relief hits me so fast my knees nearly buckle. I lock them, forcing myself to stay upright, even as the room spins and swims.Alive.I am actually going to stay alive.
Vincenzo is still talking, something about arrangements for Mickey and cleaning up the website, but none of it sticks. All I can feel is Talon’s steady hand on my back, the only thing keeping me from just collapsing right there.
“…understand each other?” Vincenzo asks, looking at me like he expects an answer.
I nod. I don’t trust my voice. I’m not even sure what I’m agreeing to.
“Good.” He turns to Talon. “I’ll have someone take care of the car. You can go. We’ll discuss the rest later.”
And that is it. We're dismissed. Talon’s hand steers me away from the table, back through the door we came in. My legs work on autopilot, stiff and strange. I feel weirdly far from my body, like I’m watching myself float through Vincenzo’s perfecthallways, past the guards with their blank faces, down the nineteen marble steps to where another black-suited guy waits by the car.
Keys change hands. A few words are spoken. Then the car rolls away with Mickey inside, driven by some guy I’ll never see again, heading somewhere I’ll never know about.
It doesn’t hit me until we are in another car, black and glossy and identical to all the others parked on the estate. Talon starts the engine but doesn’t move. We just sit there, the low purr of the car filling up the silence.
“That’s it?” I finally manage, my voice cracking in a way that makes me wince. “We just… leave?”
Talon looks at me. Really looks, for the first time since we got here. His face is still tight all business, but his eyes are different now. Softer. Almost gentle.
“We leave,” he says. “You’re safe.”
Safe. I’ve never been safe. Not since the dreams started. Not since I saw what I saw through a killer’s eyes.
But now the killer is right here, next to me, keys in his hand. And his boss, who orders deaths like takeout, has given his blessing.
“He said you could keep me,” I say. I don’t mean to, but it slips out.
“Yes.” Talon’s eyes hold mine, steady and close. “I can.”
This isn’t just an escape. It is something else, something that starts with a drawing of a kiss and ends with a claim.What’s mine,he told Vincenzo. Notwho.What.
But then Talon puts the car in drive and we roll away from the mansion, from Vincenzo, from the body in the trunk that isn’t our problem anymore, and I realize it doesn’t matter.What,who, whatever. The difference is gone now. I am Talon’s. By choice, or by accident; by that weird twist of fate that let me see through his eyes for years, long before I ever met him.
As the gates of Vincenzo’s estate clang shut behind us, I understand, sharp and sudden and a little scary, that I don’t want it any other way.
Chapter seventeen
Talon
The darkness in my bedroom isn’t the same anymore. Before it was just emptiness: silent, blank, mine. A place to crash between jobs, nothing special. Now, even when the room is empty, I can tell Quell is here. The air feels different. The awareness that, just down the hall, someone else is breathing, living in my space. I stare up at the ceiling, following the faint stripes of streetlight that slip through the blinds. Vincenzo’s laughter echoes in my head. Too easy. The way he brushed off my ultimatum, that lazy flick of his hand. It grates on me.
Three in the morning. Sleep doesn’t even bother showing up. I shift; the sheets are cold and smooth. My brain won’t stop, keeps replaying Vincenzo’s office over and over, like I am stuck on a loop. The way his eyes slid over Quell, sharp, calculating. That smile that never touched his eyes. “You can keep him, Talon.” Like he was tossing a bone to a dog who’s done a trick.
I don’t buy it. Not really. Vincenzo hasn’t lasted this long by being soft on loose ends. And Quell, with his visions, hissketches, his knack for seeing things nobody should; that is a loose end if I’ve ever saw one.
