Haunting strains of some weird folk music greeted me, and I followed it through the house and up the stairs to the half landing where the books and vinyl records were kept.
I found Cam sitting on the carpet, sorting through stacks of Steeleye Span albums.
“Rubi buys them for me.” He held one up. “He thinks it annoys me, but I don’t mind it.”
The vinyl spinning on the nearby turntable switched to something even weirder, but the vocals sounded like something Willow would sing when she was alone. “Fair enough.”
“You okay?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you.” Cam heaved the stack onto a shelf, neatening it with the reverence these cats always saved for their precious records. “It’s been a crazy few weeks and you don’t have the luxury of a house full of junk to get lost in.”
“This is therapy for you?”
Cam hummed, his answer ambiguous as he relaxed against the wall behind him, assessing me the way Orla sometimes did. With dark eyes and spiked wisdom. “I need to get out of my head sometimes, when it’s too full and messy. I used to ride out and fuck whatever willing soul crossed my path first, and it worked for years, but I need something else these days, and I’m still trying to find it.”
“You can’t stay home and fuck?”
“On my own?” Cam smirked. “I’ve grown out of that too.”
Cos he fell in love. With two men who weren’t here because they were staying out all night for me. Well, I knew Saint was. “Where’s Alexei?”
Cam’s humour faded. “Hunting with the others. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Nausea rocked my world again. “They found something?”
“No. But they will. Priest is alone out there now and he’s stupid.”
“He’s always been stupid.”
Cam rose, unfolding a frame that was almost as tall as me. “But he doesn’t have the Sambini orders to follow, their gun and ammo stash, or access to the pile of cash we found at one of the other locations. He’s winging it without his shitty support network. He’ll fuck up, and when he does, we’ll be there to put him down.”
“That’s how this ends?”
“Up to you.”
“Me?” The purpose of the conversation became abruptly clear and a stabbing pain shot through my ear, twisting my stomach as Cam eased past me and down the stairs.
Following him was obvious.
What he wanted me to say, less so.
In the kitchen, I leaned against the counter, watching him open and shut his fridge, waving away the beer he offered me, and then the food. “Are you asking me if I want him dead?”
Cam popped the cap off his beer bottle. “No. That’s happening regardless and there’s a disorderly queue of volunteers. What I’m asking is ifyouwant the job. Closure is fucking nuanced. And I want to make sure you have what you need.”
He was asking if I wanted to kill Priest myself. To commit premeditated murder. A question I’d asked myself mere hours ago, but somehow hearing it in Cam’s voice set my head in a spin all over again. Blood rushing. The buzzing in my ear so fuckin’ loud my eyeballs twitched.
I felt Cam move closer.
Felt the warmth of his hand on my arm. “There ain’t nothing wrong with not wanting to take a life. Even one as shite as this.”
“Would you do it?”
A stupid question. I knew Cam had killed people. Fuck, I was pretty sure I’dseenit over the years we’d fought on opposite sides of the fence.
But his answer surprised me. “Depends on the day. Ten years ago I’d have killed him twice. Tonight, I’d find myself wishing the fucker would spontaneously combust so I didn’t have to think about it.”