Gift of Darkness by Amir Lane

Author:Amir Lane [Lane, Amir]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-01-16T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

In my life, I’d spent a lot of time thinking about how I was going to die. It was a product of growing up in a volatile country and a taking on a dangerous line of work.

I had been a good Homicide detective. No, I’d been a great Homicide detective. My close rate had been better than those of detectives working twice as long as me. Complacency over time was part of any job. After ten, fifteen years of doing the same thing day in and day out, watching people become more and more depraved, it was hard to start caring. I didn't want that for myself. I never wanted to stop caring.

Rowan had asked me once how someone like me ended up being a cop. I could have gone to any law school I wanted, but I chose to throw that all away and become a low-paid public servant. I’d never asked if he’d ever considered any other careers. There were a lot of things I’d never asked. But for me, I'd realized at some point that there was no other job I could do.

Volha z-Biarozy paced the warehouse. There was a lot of space for her to do it in. I hung my head and folded my shoulders in to block out as much as the sound as possible. At least the concrete floor against my bare feet was cooling me.

Oh. She took my shoes too. This is just unacceptable.

“Can I ask you a question?” I said, if for no other reason than to stop that pacing.

She paused.

“Very well.”

It might have been better to have a question planned before I said it. With her walking circles around me, I couldn't practice pulling up a barrier without her seeing it. I didn’t know if the ache in my skull was getting better or worse but the lack of clicking helped.

I was never wearing high heels again.

“Why did Edik Ivanov kill Irena?”

Volha snorted.

“You think I know what small man like Edik Ivanov do? I tell him send message, he send message. If there is personal reason for who or how, I don't care.”

At least she was being honest with me.

“Did you kill your sister?”

“Rowan told you about her? Dryad can live for a century. I wasn't going to wait that long. But no. I did not kill her myself.”

She’d just had somebody else do it for her.

“Why not start your own group? You already had all those allegiances formed.”

“Biarozy Birches had its own reputation and its own following. If I start from scratch, I have to start from scratch. Why would I do that when there was easier alternative?”

“Having your sister killed was easy?” The words came out before I could think them through.

“I said easier.”

That was not remorse in her voice. It couldn't be remorse, I couldn't let myself believe it was. She'd killed her sister and sold her son. If she'd felt remorse, she would have led the Black Birches by her sister’s example. Instead, she'd led them down a path of violence and destruction.

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