“Mmm. That was a good one. A flawless accident, orchestrated with perfection.”
To fall off the cliff onto the rocks of the creek below?
“I called her Septime.”
I don’t get it. “You mean you killed seven that year?” I can hear the breathlessness in my voice. “Women who were once on the list?”
“I didn’t kill her,” he says. “I merely choreographed that one and let one of the trainees take the credit. This year’s different.”
“How? Because everyone dies? In order?”
“Getting the order right is just, shall we say, a flourish on my signature. Not as necessary as getting all ten taken care of.”
“Why?” I choke out the question.
“Let’s just say the stakes in my business got higher, and I have something to prove to get a promotion.”
“You kill people to get a promotion?”
That makes him laugh. “I kill people for a living, Quinte. I do it better, cleaner, and faster than anyone else and I get the promotion. It’s really like any other job.”
It’s his job. Sick to my stomach, I force myself to focus on all that matters right now: staying alive and saving Molly. And then … Levi. I have to find him, too.
I cling to those goals and inch the car up the glasslike surface of stone and rock, heading toward the embankment about fifteen feet over Stony Creek.
In my pocket, my cell phone vibrates.
“Give it to me,” he says.
Can I swerve the car when I reach into my pocket? Is this my chance? When he reads the phone? Or should I press the call button when I hand it to him and have whoever is calling hear what’s happening so at least someone will know the truth?
“Why are you doing this? Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” I practically scream the questions that won’t stop.
“Death is an illusion, Quinte. At least, mine was, allowing me total freedom. Give me your damn phone. Now!”
I reach for the phone and swerve to the left. In an instant, Jarvis pulls up Molly’s limp body with one hand, the knife poised at her throat with the other.
“Don’t make me ruin a perfect record, Quinte! I will do what I have to do.”
Shaking, I manage to dig the phone from my pocket and hold it up. He drops Molly and grabs the phone before I have any chance of hitting the screen.
Wordlessly, he uses his free hand to open the window, and my phone goes sailing out.
We’re nearing the top of the cliff and the road roughens and flattens. Ahead of us is … nothing. A long drop straight down that we’ll never survive.
“Put the car in neutral,” he demands.
I do, my mind whirring with possibilities of how to escape this, coming up with none. He has to get out of the car at some point if I’m going to drive it over the cliff, right? That’s why he wants the car in neutral—so I can’t back up and drive down the hill in reverse.
But I can try.
“Get in the backseat,” he orders.
I don’t move, thinking too hard about my options.
“Move it!”
His command is loud enough to make Molly stir and shift in her seat. Oh my God, these might be her last moments alive. All because of me.
I open the car door and he does the same. Okay, now Molly’s not in danger. Well, not from a knife, anyway.
Jarvis is over six feet tall, and strong. I don’t stand a chance against him and his knife. I have to look up at him, way up, and when I do, I meet the ice-blue eyes of a killer.
“Okay,” he says. “This can work but we have to think about how the evidence looks when they investigate.” He’s nodding, calmly thinking things through. Why can’t I be that calm? Instead, my whole body is quivering and my brain is flat-lining.
“Sure, there will be evidence of a murder,” he continues. “The one you committed. And then you’ll jump off the cliff in remorse.” He tapers his eyes to angry slits. “I’ll still prove my point to them.”
To who?
“Nihil relinquere et nihil vestigi. That’s how we work.”
“Who is that?”
His smile is slow. “Sicarii.”
Assassins.
Before my next breath, he grabs my arm and whips me away. I go sliding on the slick surface, tumbling face-first, my hands slapping hard right before the rest of me does. I lift my head just as he’s pushing the car, standing behind it and giving it a solid shove to send Molly to her