This Side of the Grave (#5 Night Huntress)

“Told you helmets were safer,” I couldn’t help but mutter.
Bones gave me a look before hauling the ghoul up to his feet. “Right, then. If you’ve nothing else useful to tell me—”
“Let him go,” I said to Bones, who’d already hooked an arm around the ghoul’s neck with obvious deadly intent. “There’s no reason to kill him.”
His arm quit tightening, but both brows rose. “You’re putting me on?”
“No.” I came closer, giving the ghoul a measured look. “We don’t want war, either. That’s why we’re going to stop Apollyon before things get to
that point, but we’ll do it without offering up my head. Maybe you can find those other groups and tell them we’re on the same side.”
Then I returned my attention to Bones. “Killing him isn’t going to help anything. While I’d be glad if I never saw him again, in his own way, he was
just trying to protect his people.”
Bones let go of the ghoul with a muttered “Move and you’re dead,” before closing the last few feet that separated us. His hands settled gently on
my shoulders.
“Look, luv, you can sympathize with the plonker’s motivations all you want, but the fact remains that—”
I smelled smoke right before hearing the “pop,” like a firecracker had gone off. Splatters of something thick coated my back even as a thud
reverberated behind me. I whirled around to gape at what was left of the ghoul. His body pitched forward on the driveway, nothing but a smoldering
mess left where his head had been.
Much slower, I turned around to see Vlad examining his fingernails, as if his hands weren’t still ablaze in the flames that had blasted the ghoul’s
head off moments before.
“What the hell was that?” I gasped.
“Premature inflamulation,” he replied. “Happens sometimes. Very embarrassing, I don’t like to talk about it.”
A snort of amusement came from my right. I swung in that direction to see Bones bestow the most approving look on Vlad he’d ever given him.
Then his expression sobered as he met my gaze.
“This is some sort of joke to you two?” I asked sharply, waving at the ghoul’s still smoking body. “We had a chance to maybe spread some
goodwill among people who hate Apollyon as much as we do. You know, my enemy’s enemy is my friend and all that? But no, you guys think a
barbecue is a better way to go about it!”
“If you’d let him free, he wouldn’t have told stories praising your generosity,” Vlad replied, his coppery green gaze remorseless. “He would’ve
gone back to his zealot friends with the happy news that you’re a sentimental fool, inciting them to redouble their efforts to kill you. Quit applying
human rules to undead power plays, Cat. You won’t like the results.”
Bones said nothing, but a glance at his face confirmed that he agreed with every word. My fists clenched as angry despair welled up in me.
Dammit, why did it always have to come down to taking the bloodiest road or risking death and defeat? Couldn’t problems for once be worked out
by negotiation, instead of just seeing who could kill the most opponents?
“It won’t always be this way,” Bones said quietly, sensing the source of my frustration. “You’re still very new to this world, but once sods like
Apollyon see they can’t break you, they’ll move on to easier game.”
Vlad gave a shrug in concurrence. “I’m rarely challenged anymore, even though I have my fair share of enemies. When you respond harshly
enough the first few times, it makes other adversaries less eager to test your mettle later.”
I blew air out in a tight sigh without asking the question logic stated neither of them could answer anyway. How many enemies do I have to kill
before the rest of them decide it’s not worth it to take me on? And the more frightening questions—what sort of person would I be by the time I
reached that point? Would I even recognize myself anymore? Was survival really worth giving up so many pieces of my soul?
Bones came nearer, taking my face between his strong, pale hands and gazing at me as if I was the only person around for miles.
“Do you think me an evil man? A wretched bloke you’d have been better off never having met?”
“Of course not,” I said at once, hurt that he’d even wonder such a thing. “I love you, Bones. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and
I’m not half as honorable as you are.”
A slight scoff sounded behind me. I ignored that, concentrating on the dark brown eyes boring into mine.
“Yet you know I’m a killer. So if you believe I’m a good man despite that, then you know you can still be a good person even though, sometimes,
circumstances will require you to act harsher than you’d prefer.”
“Eh, I’ll be inside,” Vlad said with another soft scoff. “For some reason, I feel the urge to watch Hitman followed by Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”
I ignored that as well, still staring into Bones’s eyes and feeling the steady thrum of power coming from his hands. Yes, Bones was a killer, but
that wasn’t what I saw when I looked at him. I saw the person who’d taught me how to accept myself when no one else wanted me to. Who loved me
without any of the fears or conditions I’d first put on our relationship, and who’d risked death several times for my life, my mother’s, my friends, and