“I was a Tavali pirate who’d lost my Canting. Big difference. Worst thing I’d have done was steal some creds and maybe your jewelry. This guy will tear your head off. Literally!” Again, he gestured wildly at the other body.
Eve sighed. “I’m not going to argue with you while he’s this close to death. Get your gigantic ass over here and lend me a hand.”
He groaned like a stabbed lorina. “Fine. But if he comes to, my name is Serta and you don’t know me.”
“Whatever.”
Making a huge production of the fact that he was helping her in spite of his wishes, Jed grabbed Jinx’s arms and pulled him up. “Sheez! The bastard weighs more than I do. You just had to pick a giant motherfucker, didn’t you?”
“Oh my God, Jedi! Really?”
“You carry him and see how much you complain. Trust me, I know you. It’d be a lot.” With a fierce growl, he managed to get Jinx over his shoulder.
Then bumped his head into the wall.
“Could you try not to add to his injuries?”
Jedi arched his brow. “Why? I still say we should cut his throat and roll him.”
“You are terrible. Take him to my place and be careful about it.” She bent over and retrieved Jinx’s sunglasses from the alley where they’d fallen and looked around for any other items that might belong to him.
Assured they had everything, she followed after Jed who was swiftly heading for her flat a few blocks away.
Jedi huffed and puffed with every step. “You better pray that there aren’t any cameras around. Last thing I want is to see this footage played at my trial.”
She snorted at his complaints. “Relax. There’s no surveillance here. It’s why I call this wretched hell home.” Life on the Trigange Outpost was even cheaper than it was in the more civilized regions of the Ichidian universe. Almost everyone here was running from something or someone.
So people kept to themselves and kept no records about those who lived here or visited.
Last thing she needed was someone spying on her or taking any kind of note of her comings and goings.
Her father had tutored her well on keeping a low profile and staying off everyone’s radar.
For that alone, she didn’t curse him every waking minute of her useless life.
And thankfully, Jedi remained silent while he carried Jinx the short distance to her home and then dumped him unceremoniously on her couch.
“I told you not to hurt him any worse.”
“I don’t think that’s really possible. I mean look.” He gestured at the amount of blood on his own clothing. “You sure he’s not already dead? ‘Cause if I just hauled a corpse that weighs what he does all this way, I really will be pissed.”
Stepping past him, she double checked Jinx’s breathing. “It’s shallow, but he’s still with us. No thanks to you.”
“Then the bastard should have helped walk his hulking ass over here.” Jedi grimaced at his blood-stained clothes. “I’m taking a shower before I head home. Last thing I want is to run into any law asshole and get arrested because they think I killed someone.”
Yeah, that’d be their luck. Have them run the DNA, find out it belonged to an assassin and then she’d have two people she loved imprisoned for something they didn’t do.
“You know where everything is.”
“And a ‘thank you, Jedi,’ would be nice.” He headed for her bathroom.
“Thank you, Jedi,” she called while she moved to make her “guest” a little more comfortable.
Poor Jinx. No wonder he’d been so feral when she’d touched his arm if this was how he’d always been treated. But that was the thing about League assassins. They were honed killing machines.
Even without weapons, they were lethal.
Rumors claimed that they were taught from childhood to kill with their bare hands. Teeth. Whatever it took.
They were savage.
Rabid.
Supposedly, the only thing that kept them in check was that each one came with a kill switch and tracing device. If they stepped over the line or did anything they weren’t supposed to, their bosses could end their lives with the flick of a switch.
It was what made them so mean.
Like Jinx had said, they had no choice.
As young children, they were either taken from their parents, orphaned, or sold into that life. The League was all they knew. All they were allowed to know.
And almost none of them lived to be more than thirty years old.
Which made her wonder what category Jinx fell into.
Orphan. Slave or prisoner.
Had his parents been like hers and committed some crime that had caused The League to seize custody of him or worse . . .
Had his parents sold him to be one of their drones.
As bad as her father had been, at least he’d never done that to any of them.
Yeah, Egarious Toole didn’t look so bad right now. All in all, he had given them some rather good survival skills.
And no one deserved to be beaten like this.
Eve cringed as she peeled back the black battlesuit from his chest and saw the deep knife wounds and horrific scars that crisscrossed his chest and torso.
As bad as his current wounds were, they were nothing compared to the scars where others had tried their best to end his life.
Maybe Jed was right. Maybe she should have left him to die. That might have been a kinder fate. But having seen so many people lose their lives for no reason, she just couldn’t stand to see one more person die alone.
Like garbage in the street.
Not after what Jinx had done for her.
Besides, life shouldn’t be like this.
You know he’s going to kill again. By saving him, there’s no telling how many more innocent lives he’ll take.
Probably true.
But she was a paid killer, too.
You have a choice. You only take contracts on those who deserve to die. He kills whoever they tell him to, regardless of age, gender, or crime.
Did that really make her a better person, though?
She had a choice. This man never had been given that.
If he didn’t kill them, they killed him. For all she knew, this very attack could have been over the fact that he refused to kill a target.
“And I could have been anything I wanted to be.” A teacher. Musician.
Well, not really given her family and history, but she liked to pretend that she could have walked away.
Like Jayne?
She flinched at the voice in her head.
Yeah. Her sister had tried to do that. And what’d happened to her?
Jayne was rotting in prison for trying to turn her back on their father’s legacy. For trying to get her teacher’s license.
So much for dreams and stupidity.
Tooles didn’t get to live normal lives. They weren’t like other people.
Never mind the fact that she was an Andarion Batur. A Winged Batur, no less. Their entire lineage had been hunted to virtual extinction by a crazed bitch.
So much so, that the only reason her meager branch had survived was because her grandmother had been smuggled off Andaria and hidden while the rest of her family had been brutally slaughtered.
None of her family should have survived to be here.
Yet they endured, in spite of all odds.
All enemies.
“Like you.” She brushed the hair back from Jinx’s bruised cheek.