Page 7 of As Angels Sin

“Do you ever look at your life and wonder how you ended up where you are?” We’re not in my kill chamber and this conversation doesn’t carry the same weight out here. It’s still therapy, though; talking to the dead while they still draw breath. Healing wounds I didn’t know I had.

“Nah, man, I just go with the flow.” Devin’s voice doesn’t waver. That’s surprising, considering how high up in the mountain we are, but my guess is it’s because he can’t see the ground below.

I’ve spent my whole life fighting the current. Not by choice, but by design. I was born different, broken, and no one can tame me.

“Do you honestly mean that?” I consider giving him a reason to regret those words, but decide it’s better to wait.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” I like to think there’s terror on his face. That his lip is trembling, and his eyes are wide as he begs for forgiveness and mercy. But his tone ruins my pure image of how this is supposed to go.

“Yes, but coming here was a mistake.” I raise my brow at him, even if he can’t see it. To say he followed me willingly would be a half-truth. By definition, he followed me. He was behind, while I led our ascent into the great wilderness. But usually, that word doesn’t have strings attached.

In this case, I had fastened a belt around his neck, and every time he lagged behind, one hard, choking tug pulled him back on course.

“I didn’t have much choice.”

“But you did. You could’ve walked away.” In truth, I’d have found another way to dispose of Devin if he’d have made that choice. I’m strong, fit and ready to conquer any challenge, even if hauling his ass up the mountain would’ve been a much harder task than I bargained for.

“Are you gonna let me go?” He is still calm. Had things been a little different, I’d have thought dangerously so. But they aren’t, and like Leadville, his inability to show me fear is starting to wear my patience as thin as his hairline.

“I suggest you choose your words more carefully, Devin.” I ease my grip on the end of my belt that’s wrapped around his neck, just enough for his larger-than-life body to inch closer toward the edge.

“Oh, shit.” he shouts, and it echoes across the vast, black nothing. “What the hell are you doing?”

Was that so fucking hard?

“You know, I don’t give a shit about the young women you killed, Devin. Or whatever other filthy thing you might’ve done to them.” It’s the first time I’m bringing it up. Judging by the way he mumbles obscenities to himself and begins to beg, I would bet it’s the first time anyone has mentioned it.

Confirmation feels good. It means I’m still one hell of a hunter, even after years of being handed contracts with the names and addresses filed in.

Still, Devin Williams has to die, no matter what the truth is.

“Then why are you doing this?” he whimpers. It’s music to my ears.

“I need to feed the beast. It’s calling for blood and I don’t want to know what will happen if it doesn’t get it.”

“You’re fucking crazy. Let me go right now!”

“What did I say about phrasi—”

Bang!

Bang!

Two shots ring out, there’s a tug on the belt and a long pause before I hear the sound of the thud of Devin Williams’ body on the cold, rocky floor below.

“You’d better have saved one of those bullets for me.” The wind carries my harsh whisper further than I expect it to.

An eye for an eye. He took yours, now you take his life.

I’m angry. My shadow is furious. We prepared for this kill for two weeks. I chose a man no one would miss. He’s just some small town nobody, in the piece of shit town I chose to hide away in. Now, he’s dead. A big mess of nothing on the side of the mountain.

Exactly where he was going to end up, anyway. He and I reached the same end goal, so why does it matter? Because my hand didn’t deliver the final blow. There’s no satisfaction in watching someone else make a kill.

He was an easy target. A man without burden. But, most importantly, he was mine.

“Now, why would I need a bullet for you?” A familiar voice replies. I don’t dare look at him. It’s the closest he’s ever come to meeting my shadow, and even in the inky black I don’t trust he won’t see it has taken back its control of me.

“How did you find me, Mark?”

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