Page 149 of Assassin's Obsession

"Inconsiderate."

"At least Derian and Mario kept me in my hoodie," she jokes.

But I'm not ready to laugh. "Tell me how you got away."

I can't stop looking at the smears of blood on her borrowed sweater. Blood from my kills tainting her.

"All I had to do was fake a little nausea to get them to leave one of the windows in my room open for me." She describes her escape like a big adventure.

Of course Candi would try to run. She doesn't take anything lying down. When she talks about untying the makeshift rope and carrying it along a beam two stories off the ground, so she can climb down unnoticed, I about lose my shit.

I pull my knife out and start flipping it over my knuckles. Flip. Flip. Flip.

"Uh, are you okay, Angelo?" She looks at me with concern.

Forgetting my desire to keep Candi from getting any more blood on her, I slide the knife back into its sheath and pull her close. "I'm proud of you."

"This feels more like worry than pride." Her voice is muffled by my chest.

I kiss the top of her head because I can. "I'll have to brush your hair out again tonight."

"I like when you do that," she says softly.

"I do too."

She snuggles into me, molding her body as close as she can get with the safety belt on.

"I want you to know I never doubted my ultimate safety, Angelo. I didn't just know you would come for me. I knew you would succeed."

"There will never be a time I don’t come for you. Even after death I will come back to protect you."

"That's not morbid at all." She tries to sound snarky, but even I can distinguish the underlying emotion in her voice.

"What's morbid about spending eternity together?"

She huffs out a sigh. "When you put it that way, nothing. But I thought you weren't religious."

"How can I not believe in the afterlife when I know I will spend it with you?"

"The things you say." She moves restlessly against me. "It's not that cold in here, right? I mean I don't need the sweater anymore."

"You want to get the blood off." I'm not surprised.

Candi is not meant to be marked by Death.

"It stinks." She sits up, her nose wrinkled in distaste. "Haven't you noticed? It's like fake lavender or something. I mean lavender isn't my favorite fragrance to begin with, but add a chemical component in and it's nauseating."

She pulls the sweater off and tosses it onto the floor before taking a big breath. "That's better but I can still smell it."

I grab the sweater, open the door and toss it into the rushing wind before shutting it again.

"You can't do that! It's littering."

"Birds will find it and pick it apart to make nests." I don't know if that's true, but I wasn't keeping the offending garment in the cabin when it bothered her.

"Only if they can get past that awful smell." She sighs. "Why did you think it was the blood?"

I shrug.

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