Off the Edge (The Associates) by Carolyn Crane

Author:Carolyn Crane [Crane, Carolyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2013-12-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

She was killing him. Just like that first night.

She’d called herself cowardly, but she was nothing less than a warrior, standing over him, waiting for him to free himself even though she was scared shitless. Laney and her supplies and her attitude and her unshakeable moral compass. It was perfect that she’d insulted his book. Of course she’d hate that chapter. She had no time for his various reductions, just like Rio. She thrived on emotion. Connection.

He wished he could tell her the truth—he was a spy, and all he wanted was to get back to the console room before the drugged guards woke up.

He couldn’t. The truth would endanger them both.

The farther she got from him and the hotel, the safer she’d be.

He swallowed, steeled himself. He had to make her run.

Do it, he told himself.

“Question, Laney. Has it ever occurred to you to wonder why I never asked you to go to the police?”

“I figure the Shinsurins are buddies with them.”

He closed his eyes. He wanted to move his feet into a position that wouldn’t make his toes feel like they were on fire, but he couldn’t let her see them. The last thing he needed was her pity.

“Or maybe I have more to fear from the law than from the Shinsurins,” he said.

She simply took another bite. “We both need to get out of here. You’re coming with me.”

“How do you know I’m not a killer?” he asked.

“Because I know.”

He gave her a cold smile. “It’s sad. You’re pretty, but you’re not very well-educated. Though I do love the socks.”

She just looked down at him. She had to be nervous. “I’m not buying what you’re selling, Devilwell. I’m done being fooled by people.”

He didn’t have to fool her—that was the grim truth. He’d died in that train. He’d lost everything that made him human.

“Come here,” he said.

She frowned.

“Come here.” Before she could move away, he lunged up on his knees, grabbed her wrists, and yanked her down to him. Her candy bar flew.

“Hey!” she tried to pull away.

He forced himself to tighten his grip, hating that he might be hurting her. Everything in him raged in protest. “Look in my eyes. Ask me if I’ve killed.”

She struggled. “Let me go.”

He gave her a shake. “Ask me. You say I’m not a liar. Don’t you want to know?”

Fear in her eyes. “Please—”

“Ask me!”

She glared. “Have you?”

“Yes. I’ve killed fourteen men. Eight by gunshot and three by slitting their jugulars. Did you know that slicing a man’s neck takes roughly the same amount of pressure as slicing into a papaya? I bet you didn’t know that.”

Fear in her eyes. He could see what he’d become reflected there; he was a hunter, a killer, a tool of the Association.

“I know what you’re thinking, Laney. That’s only eleven. And you’d be right. There was another man I killed by smashing his skull with a twenty-pound free weight. Then there was the time I jammed a wooden spear clear through a man’s neck.

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