Page 90 of Beg the Night

“I know.” I clasped my hands in my lap. “I saw that too.”

“Don’t make me do this.” Young Sinner was nothing like the emotionless man I’d come to know. Young Sinner was softer. Kinder, even. It broke my heart. I knew what happened to soft hearts like his.

His shadows surrounded him, lacing up his body, twirling around his limbs as if they could protect him. As if they could stop him from what was about to happen.

“This is for your own good, Elijah!” Sinner’s father was tall, with messy hair like his son’s. But there was no kindness there. Only sinister intention lurking behind his gaze. And the way he looked at his son? The way he tightened the ropes aroundSinner’s body until the boy screamed? That man deserved hell. Worse than hell, even.

Then there was Margaret, who was in the corner, crying.

“See what you do to your sister?” the older man yelled. “All of this is to protect her, understand? Show me your power and I won’t have to push her like this. You would rather it be you than her, wouldn’t you?”

Sinner’s eyes widened, his expression absolutely heartbroken. Because his father was not asking for a simple show of his shadow magic.

His father wanted death.

Across from Sinner sat another boy about the same age. His eyes pleaded with Sinner’s, but there was something else under his gaze, too.

Forgiveness.

Forgiveness for what? I wasn’t sure. Not until a few moments later.

“Kill your friend. I know you’re capable of it.”

“I don’t want to,” Sinner cried. “I don’t want to do it!”

“It’s okay,” his friend stammered. “It’s okay, Elijah. I won’t blame you for what you have to do.”

I could practically feel the turmoil in Sinner’s blood. His friend or his sister, both innocent. Both too kind for this world.

Sinner had once been too kind for this world, too. But what happened next was the first step in turning him into the monster he was now.

His father marched over to young Margaret and gripped her arm until she screamed. He pulled a silver blade from his belt and ran it down her cheek, causing a thin trail of blood to appear. “Do it,” he ordered. “There is no way out of this. Do it or she dies, too.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sinner sobbed. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” The apology was a chant. A prayer. A mantra that I would hear in my dreams for the rest of my life.

I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry I’m so sorry.

Shadows erupted from Sinner’s chest, wrapping around his friend’s body and squeezing until they both screamed.

And then, abruptly, the sound ceased.

And an emptiness opened up in Sinner’s gaze as he took in what he’d done.

“See?” His father said, kneeling in front of him with a disgusting smile on his face. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, my boy?”

The man across from me cleared his throat, his focus still fixed on my face. “Then you know what I’m really capable of.” His tone was dry, vacant. “And you also know I’ll do anything to protect my sister.”

I finally found the courage to stare back at him. “He was your friend,” I said softly. “That was cruel of your father. He had no right.”

With a dark chuckle, Sinner leaned back in his chair. “He had no right to do a lot of things. You saw only a glimpse of what he was capable of. But that doesn’t change what I am. If he hadn’t forced me to become a killer, someone else would have.”

A pit opened up in my stomach. “I don’t believe that.”

He surveyed me, brow furrowed, then huffed a breath and flipped the conversation entirely, putting me on the defensive.

“And what about you? When did you realize you were a killer?”

I froze. “I don’t?—”