Page 111 of A Dusk Of Stars

For a second, I just look at him. Then I laugh again. “You know, by the time you get to your point,” I say as I swirl the drink in my hand, “I might be too drunk to get it.”

He ignores this. “You say you don’t need my help anymore, but there’s something you’re not telling me. All the while, you’re pretending everything’s fine, which is an asshole move.”

Damn it. He’s got a point.

“Fair enough,” I say as I lean back on the bar. I take a deep breath. “Look, I’m grateful for all your help. But I don’t want it anymore because I don’t like relying on others more than absolutely necessary.”

“Why?” he asks, very seriously.

The question throws me off. I frown. “What do you meanwhy? Neither do you.”

“What did they do to break you?” he insists matter-of-factly.

What the… “No one broke me,” I say with an awkward laugh.

“Everyoneis broken,” he replies, with a scoff but not taking his eyes off me.

“Everyone butme, yeah, I agree.”

He blows a laugh through his nose. For one long moment, he just looks at me. Then, to my surprise, he relaxes a little. It’s with a smile that he says, “Alright, we can ease into it. I tellyousomething andyoutellmesomething.”

“I’m not telling you a thing,” I protest, defiant but smiling.

“Oh I don’t think you’ll be able to resist.”

“I most definitely will.”

He glances around, his eyes stopping on the drink in my hand. “I once got so drunk,” he starts, my ears pricking up in anticipation, “I practically downed a whole bottle of vinegar thinking it was wine.”

I laugh. He grins.

“Was it to impress someone?” I ask.

“Nuh-uh, your turn.”

“I once set my teacher’s hair on fire.”

He just looks at me for a second, then swallows a laugh. “You did not.”

“It was an accident. Moving on,” I insist, wanting to hear more of his. “Go.”

“First time I came here,” he starts, the lower, more serious voice making my ears prick up, “I’d just broken into the Bloodholm Authority Office to destroy evidence that would’ve gotten me thrown in prison.”

With that, he keeps staring at me with this defiance in his eyes.

I frown. Then I remember that guy he told me about. “You were part of a còmhlan,” I reply pensively.

“Your turn,” he demands.

“Alright,” I say with a sigh. I think for a second. “When I was a kid, I broke my leg trying to jump off the roof, believing I’d end up landing softly like I saw this vampire do. That guy you told me about, was he in the same còmhlan as you?” I ask, my eyes narrowing at him.

It makes the defiance flash through his eyes again. Still, he doesn’t refuse to answer. “Yes. He was like a brother, in fact,” he says. Then he looks at me for a second before he lets out this bitter little laugh, making me breathless with anticipation when I realize that’s not all he’ll be telling me in this round. “When thecòmhlan took me off the streets, I fought tooth and nail to get them to take him with us. What a service I did him, huh? Then, years later, when I realized the life was destroying him from within, I helped him escape, only to get both him and a bunch of others killed for it.”

I frown and stay silent for a second, sadness flooding me and my voice soft when I finally say, “You said it yourself, you were both kids and neither one of you chose the life.”

This makes him hesitate, his jaw clenching. “Sure,” he says with a touch of mockery in his voice, “until I hit puberty and they started grooming me to take over, to go from being bait in conning the rich to being sent to kill off an entire enemy còmhlan. Nowthatbit, can’t really say I objected to it much.”

There's a moment of silence during which he throws me another defiant look. I choose to set all judgment aside. I relax and ask, even more softly than before, “Why didn’t you?”

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