Page 111 of By the Pint

“But he didn’t know!” I accidentally yelled. “How could he know?!”

Everyone turned to me, and my heart leapt into my throat.

I needed to quiet the fuck down, or I was going to give everything away.

“And he wouldn’t choose that, anyway,” I added, because apparently, when it came to defending Casey, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“No, he’s right,” Nina said. “It’s not common knowledge. I’ve worked here for almost two centuries and I’ve only ever heard whispered rumours. I only found out the full truth, and even that is perhaps a stretch of the definition, this night when Mr Freckleman entered already exhibiting symptoms of turning. There’s absolutely no way an ordinary thirty-nine-year-old human could have known this.”

“Convenient that his memories’ve all been wiped, ay? And we can’t ask him,” Bad Cop said. Definitely Bad Cop.

I was on my feet. Blood pounding against my eardrums.

“Hey, hey, settle down,” Good Cop said, also getting to his feet and placing a placating hand on my shoulder. “There’s one easy way to solve this.” He held out his other hand, and the hacker stepped forward.

“No!” I said, as Killian said, “Yeah, whatevs, bestie. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

But he did. What the fuck?! He was going to let the hacker into his mind and everything we’d just been telling the Assembly authorities would be proven false.

We were both bare faced lying. So what would that mean? I get sent to gaol instead? And Killian gets charged with obstruction of justice?

“How long is the sentence?” I asked. I was still standing, so Bad Cop had to look up to answer my question.

“Depends,” he fired back. “Turning with intent, minimum one-seventy, more likely termination. Accidental turning, vampslaughter, forty to ninety years usually.”

“Fuck,” Killian huffed out. He squared his shoulders and also stood. “Yep, come on then. Hit me up.”

The hacker stepped forward. The sliver of ghost-white skin visible on his face passed under the light.

You don’t have to do this. You have a choice,I said to Killian. The hacker’s eyes flicked to me. The faintest crease marred his brow.

I know I have a choice, but you don’t. I choose for you—

But, Killian—

“Atonement!” he yelled, making everyone but the hacker startle.

“Kill—” I started.

“Vitamin Dima,” Killian pleaded. Instantly, I was transported five hundred years into the past.

That was the name he called me. Vitamin Dima. Because we couldn’t go out in the sun anymore. Killian used to say I was sunshine enough for both of us. Because before the outlandishly buoyant Killian that stood here now, existed a desperate lost soul. Ripped from the warmth of life and plunged into an endless pit of darkness, and despair, and death. Best not to forget the death. And the toll of taking a life, especially unintentionally, has on your soul. Even an undead soul.

But I was there throughout. For him. Helped him through, as I helped myself through the same thing.

“I’m not going to let you take the blame for my crimes anymore.” Killian looked right into my eyes as he said this. No longer talking about Casey, this was about everything that came before. “I’m done being the kid who hides behind the bigger, scarier vampires. I’m not twenty anymore. I mean, I’ll always be twenty, but you deserve more. You were there for me when nobody else was. Fuck, you practically raised me, D. We weren’t just friends, we were us. Us. Registered, patented, trademarked. You know? And I went and trashed it. I’m sorry. That’s all I’m trying to say.

“You deserve more. Casey deserved more. Everyone I’ve ever taken from deserves more than what I gave them. I’m not asking for your forgiveness. I’m really not. But maybe one day, if you find it in that locket of yours to forgive me, I’ll be waiting patiently. Probably in the City of the Undead County Gaol, so you’ll know where to find me.” And then, on top of everything, he shot me a wink.

Laughter bubbled from nowhere inside me. Why was I laughing? I had no fucking clue. I should have been crying. The love of my life was lying lifeless in a bed somewhere on the other side of the building, and my oldest friend was about to be sentenced and imprisoned for a crime I’d accidentally committed. And that was only if Killian somehow fooled the hacker.

“Come on then, big boy,” Killian said, turning his attention to the average height and slim built hacker. “Let’s get this party started.”

The hacker stepped forward, closing the gap between him and Killian, and he began … unbuttoning Killian’s shirt?

“What’s he doing?” I asked.

Good Cop made a sort of shoeing gesture with his hand. “He needs flesh on flesh to read thoughts.”

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