"Screw off… I'm not doing you any more favors."
The elf smiled weakly at his words, blood staining his pale lips.
"You know… I used to pray you wouldn't turn out to be a killer… Goddess knows you had the disposition." His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "So… how did it feel? When you took someone's life?"
Damon's fingers trembled. For a moment, he hesitated.
Then, he answered.
"Nothing." He exhaled. "It felt satisfying."
That was the truth.
The first person he had actually killed with his own hands wasn't Lark. Lark had died by his shadow. Carmen Vale, too.
No, the first life he had willingly taken was Isaac. And when he did it, he had felt vindicated.
There was no guilt—like when his shadow killed Carmen Vale.
There was no doubt—like when his shadow killed Lark.
Only certainty.
Back to Back chuckled, even as his body failed him.