Web of Lies (Page 73)

Chapter Thirty-One

I huddled in my usual hiding place, a small crack in the alley wall behind the Pork Pit. The enclosed space always made me feel safe. Secure. Perhaps it was because I knew no one could squeeze in here after me – especially someone as big as the giant I’d just killed.

Half an hour had passed since Douglas had forced his way into the restaurant and attacked Fletcher and Finn. My tears were gone, but blood still coated my hands from where I’d killed the giant. I scratched my fingernail across my skin, leaving a white mark in the rusty brown stains. I’d done it again. Killed again. Just like I had the night the Fire elemental had murdered my family, and I’d collapsed my own house down on top of them all – including Bria, my baby sister. My stomach twisted. Somehow, I forced down the hot bile that rose in my throat.

The back door of the Pork Pit eased open, and Fletcher Lane stepped into the alley. The middle-aged man didn’t say a word as he sat down cross-legged a few feet away from me.

His green eyes were as bright as a cat’s, although his face sagged with weariness and pain from where the giant had hit him.

I stayed in my crack, my little refuge, and wondered if this was the part where Fletcher told me to leave – and never come back. He’d seen what I’d done to the giant, what I was capable of. Who would want someone like that hanging around?

"You’ve been here a while now," Fletcher said in a quiet voice. "You’re a smart kid, Gin. I’m sure you’ve noticed things. Like me being gone so much."

And coming back with blood all over you, I thought.

I didn’t know what Fletcher was getting at, but at least he wasn’t telling me to get lost – yet. "Yeah, I have."

He nodded. "I’m sure you’ve wondered where I go, what I do. All the trips I take." Fletcher turned his eyes to me, so that I felt the full force of his green gaze. "It’s time you knew the truth, especially after tonight. I’m an assassin, Gin. Have been for years."

Maybe I should have been surprised or stunned or even horrified. But I wasn’t. After my family’s murder and the harsh realities of living on the streets, nothing much shocked me anymore. My childhood and my innocence were gone, replaced by the knowledge people were mean, cold, crazy, dangerous.

So I just nodded my head, as if his revelation made perfect sense to me. In a twisted way, it did.

"Do you know what being an assassin means?" Fletcher asked.

I shrugged. "You kill people for money."

He smiled. "Most of the time. Sometimes though, I get offered jobs I don’t take. Sometimes the people I turn down get angry with me. Sometimes they find me, come after me."

"Like Douglas?"

"Just like Douglas."

Despite the weirdness of the conversation, I found myself curious to learn more about this other life Fletcher led. "Who did Douglas want you to kill?"

A shadow passed over Fletcher’s face. "Some little girls."

"So why didn’t you do it?"

Fletcher stared at me. "Because there are rules, Gin. Things even assassins shouldn’t do. Killing innocent kids is one of them."

I thought of the Fire elemental and all the questions she’d asked me about Bria, my baby sister. I hadn’t answered the elemental, not even when she’d burned me with my own spider rune. Because I’d known what would happen. I would die, and then so would Bria.

"What happens when someone breaks the rules?" I asked in a hoarse whisper.

Fletcher stared at me. "I try to make it so they can’t hurt anyone else."

I knew he meant kill them. I thought of Douglas and the way the giant had looked at me. What he would have done to me if I hadn’t done it to him first. I shivered. "That must be nice. To be able to take care of other people like that. To be that strong." The last word came out as a raspy whisper.

Fletcher stared at me, a strange look on his lined face, as though he was considering something important. Like telling me to get lost. I decided to make it easy for him. I owed him that much, if only for the last few weeks of security he’d given me.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Fletcher frowned. "Of course not. Why would you think that?"

I stared at the blood on my hands and didn’t say anything.

"Oh, Gin," he said in a soft voice. "You don’t really realize what you did tonight, do you? You saved me. Finn too. Douglas would have killed all three of us if you hadn’t stabbed him. Don’t you dare feel bad about stabbing that sick bastard. You did what you had to do. Nothing else."

The knot in my stomach loosened. Maybe I wasn’t such a monster after all. Or maybe I just didn’t care anymore.

"I want you to stay, Gin," Fletcher said. "For as long as you want. And, if you’ll let me, if you want to, I’d like to train you."

I stared at him, confused. "Train me to do what? You’re already teaching me how to cook."

He hesitated. "To be like me. To do what I do. To be an assassin."

Maybe I should have been surprised. Shocked. Horrified.

But I wasn’t. Instead, I thought of Douglas, the giant. How he’d come at me and how I’d defended myself. I knew my stabbing him had been more dumb luck than anything else.

But my family was gone, and I was alone. I was tired of living on the streets and being weak and small and helpless.

Tired of hiding from everyone and everything. I looked at Fletcher. It wasn’t just that he was an adult, older than me, taller, more muscled. Fletcher Lane had an inner strength that set him apart from other people. I suddenly realized it was a strength I wanted. A strength I needed to survive.

"What about Finn?" I asked. "He’s your son. Shouldn’t you train him instead?"

Fletcher smiled. "He is my son, and I love him, but he doesn’t have the right temperament. He’s too reckless, too flashy. You’re different. Calmer. You take the time to think things through before you do them."

I didn’t know about all that. But I decided to take what Fletcher was offering me. Grab on to it with both hands and never look back. Genevieve Snow was dead. Her family was dead. But Gin Blanco was still alive. And I wanted to stay that way.

"Okay," I said. "You can train me."

Fletcher nodded. "All right then. We start tonight. Come on. Let’s go back into the restaurant."

He got to his feet and stretched out his hand to me. I stared at it a minute. I was going to be an assassin. Might as well start acting like one. Which, to me, meant getting to my own feet by myself. Which I did.

Fletcher’s green eyes brightened as he smiled –

I gasped in a breath, waking from the dreamy memory.

It took me a moment to remember where I was, what had happened – and the fact I was probably buried alive.