"Okay, mystery man," I said, "unless you want some serious damage done to your back, you'd better stop faking unconsciousness and start talking."
There was no response, which wasn't really surprising. Hunter wouldn't have sent a fool to do her dirty work.
Amaya, twist a little closer to his spine.
Her chuckle – which could be described only as both gleeful and bloodthirsty – ran across the back of my thoughts as her blade did a slow circle in his flesh. Blood spurted, and the vampire hissed – a venomous sound if I'd ever heard one. He looked at me, face bloody and eyes narrowed. There was no pain in those black depths, no fear. Just fury. And the promise of death should I make one careless move.
"One last chance to start answering my questions, then I'll sever your damn spine." My voice was cold and flat. One look at his expression – or lack thereof – was enough to tell me I could not show any sort of emotion to this man. He was the sort to take it as weakness.
"What do you want?" His voice was controlled, even. One tough vampire, obviously.
"Everything." I crossed my arms. "Your name, and the name of the person who sent you here to kill Jak."
"I wasn't sent here to kill —"
He cut the rest of the sentence off as Amaya did a half turn. Sweat dotted his face, but his expression remained unchanged. Uncaring. Deadly.
"You're lying and we both know it." To Azriel, I said, What's his name?
He hesitated, then said, Trent Fagan. He is a killer for hire. The Directorate had a death order on him, but Hunter had it removed on the proviso he work for her.
Why would she do that, when she has the Cazadors at her beck and call?
They do not work for her, but the council as a whole. Kill orders must be cleared through the council before they can be enforced. He studied me. She is gathering her own personal hit squad; you are one of them, Risa.
But I don't —
Not yet, he agreed. But it is what she wants, nevertheless. You – and the remaining keys – would give her the ultimate command over not just the council, but the world.