Page 36 of Killer of the Bells
As Echo and I showered together, I explained what I knew of the night’s mission. Gareth hadn’t needed to explain it to me because I already knew what the plan was. It mostly involved killing assholes who needed to be killed, and rescuing anyone they hadn’t sacrificed. All we were waiting on was for Gareth to get the information he needed and to give the word.
Echo was more interested in washing my hair than he was in hearing about the mission I planned to bring him on.
I hadn’t exactly asked permission to bring a guest, but Gareth would probably allow it. He knew what Echo surviving a night with me in my home meant.
The survival rate of getting fucked by me was low. The monster was too loud, too forceful. When my self-control broke, it took over, and afterward, I had a dead body to deal with. Only Baz and Vix had been important enough to escape unscathed after having sex with me.
Nearly everyone else had been… collateral damage.
So, Gareth would likely allow me to do anything with Echo that I wanted. I doubted anyone in the collective would try to stop me. I’d heard them talking about me behind my back. They all thought I was irreparably broken and would never be able to form a connection with anyone past the awkward, tentative ones I’d allowed to keep Gareth happy.
To this day, I don’t know why any of them bothered to care about me. I’d never given them a reason to. The only one of them I’d ever been genuinely nice to had been Vix, and it had been a toxic affection at best, and negligent at worst.
With Echo, it was effortless. I not only allowed him to wash my hair as we spoke, but I also enjoyed it. The gentle way he worshipped my waist-length hair made my eyelids heavy, and I was at peace in a way I didn’t know was possible for me.
“Why do you keep it so long?” Echo asked as he combed his fingers through my hair to work out the conditioner.
“I can’t cut it,” I answered. I didn’t answer questions about myself if at all possible, but Echo was welcome to anything of mine he wanted, including my past.
When Echo gave me a curious look, I couldn’t help but elaborate. “I’ve never been a particularly social person, even as a human. I was born into a prominent upper-class British family that was deeply entrenched in society.
“I hated every part of it, though my mother and father did everything they could to drag me into it. Men’s fashion had begun to trend toward shorter hair, and I, being the rebellious asshole I was, kept mine long out of spite. When I was cursed, it froze my body in time, and now, even if I cut my hair, it grows back instantly. If I could go back in time, I would have chosen opium as a way to act out. There would have been fewer long-term repercussions for me, and my family would have been far more scandalized.”
“Well, I love it,” Echo said, draping my hair over my shoulder and smoothing it down over my pecs. “So… you’re really old, huh?”
I sputtered as I choked down some water. “Old?”
“Long hair for men has been in and out of fashion for centuries and throughout many cultures. Which century are you from, MisterI’m Not a Vampire,andI casually drop mysterious words like curse without explaining them?I’d clock you at some time during the eighteen hundreds from your vibe, but I feel like you could be as far back as the seventeen hundreds. Though the opium comment makes me think it’s more likely you were a teen in the latter half of the eighteen hundreds…”
I bit my lip, greedily taking in Echo’s clever musing. He was everything I wanted but didn’t know to ask for.
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Echo continued, twining a strand of my hair around his pinky finger. “Everyone has secrets they want to keep.”
“I don’t mind telling you about myself, but we don’t have time for me to do the story justice. Gareth will come and drag me out if I delay for too long.”
“Sounds like Gareth had issues with boundaries,” Echo muttered.
“I’ve given him good reason to do so,” I admitted grudgingly. “I’m not easy to work with.”
“And your job is to do crime?”
“An oversimplification, but more or less. Does that bother you?”
“We’ve already established that you don’t cross the puppy/child endangerment line, so I’m sure you have your reasons. Do you really want me to come with you on your mission, though? I’ll probably only get in your way.”
“Do you want to come?”
“Do I want to watch you and your friends kill a bunch of psycho serial killers hell-bent on bringing some creepy god to life?” Echo tapped his chin and pursed his lips. “I mean, I had been planning on hyperventilating myself to sleep and overanalyzing every interaction we’ve had over the past two days to pick out every cringy word I’ve said to you, but I suppose I could schedule your mission in.”
Outwardly, I allowed myself a small, non-committal smile, but inwardly, I was, as Baz or Vix would say, fangirling. I’d been hoping Echo was interested in me as more than a fuck or a road to a glorious death, but it was difficult to judge.
“What do you want me to do?” Echo continued talking as I wrestled my emotions under control. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be in killing people. Even if they need killing, I’m not exactly the fighting type.”
“You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”
Gareth had a rule about everyone in the collective being useful, but I doubted he’d dare to apply it to my person. Gareth couldn’t replace me and my skillset, and he knew it.
As bitchy as I was, no one could beat me at stealth, speed, poisons, or my ability to heal most injuries with my unique blend of magic and biochemistry. There was far more I could do, but Gareth either didn’t know or pretended not to because he knew I had my reasons not to use those skills.
