“I want you to build a life that keeps you away from
places like this,” he’d said. “Mortals like that—” he’d
jerked his head toward the bloody corpses “—A good
human life, whatever that entails.” He’d stared at her,
his gray eyes bright and intent. “A safe life. I want you
to have a safe life.”
Safe. She’d never been safe. She’d always just
stayed one step ahead, dancing as fast as she could,
trying to stay on the log before it rolled and took her
under.
Tension crawled through her and she realized the tip
of her knife was centimeters from Marin’s eye. She
eased back a bit and snarled, “Was Krayl the villain or
the victim?”
“All I heard was a name. I don’t know what his role
was, I swear.” The words were garbled, mangled by
Marin’s sobs. She believed him.
“We’re done,” Roxy said, choking off the unwelcome emotions that swelled and surged. Too many co-
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incidences. Too many bits of her past being dumped
into the mix.Krayl.Dagan Krayl? Was he dead?
Skinned and hacked to bits?
The possibility rubbed at her like grit in a wound.
Because part of her figured that if anyone got to kill
him, it ought to be her. And the other part remembered
his eyes, colder than frost, the way his mouth quirked
at the corner in the whisper of a smile and the feel of
his soft, warm jacket wrapped around her like an embrace.
But she also remembered the sickness that had