Narcissus in Chains

"How do you know who the bad guys are?" he asked, voice almost a whisper.

"Anyone in the room that isn't us," I said.

"And you kill them, just like that?"

I nodded. "Exactly," I said.

"I don't think I could kill anyone."

"Then hide."

He did that chin-rubbing nod thing again, like he was scent marking his own knees. "I can hide, I know how to do that."

I touched his face very gently. He flinched, then relaxed a little. All the animals liked to be touched. "I'm not very good at hiding, maybe you can teach me."

"Why would you need to know how to hide?" he asked.

"Because there's always someone, or something, bigger and badder than you are."

"I can teach you how to hide, but I don't know if I can learn how to kill."

Where had I heard that before? Oh, I knew — Richard. But even he had learned how, in the end. "You'd be surprised what you can learn, Gil, if you have to."

He hugged himself again. "I don't think I want to learn how to kill people."

"Now that," I said, "is a different problem altogether."

"I don't want to," he said.

I stared down at him. "Then don't, but don't let your squeamishness get any of my people killed."

"It's more likely to kill me."

"True, but that's your choice — get yourself killed if you want, but don't bring harm to me or mine because of some moral high ground."

"Would you really kill me for it?"

I knelt back in front of him. "You can stay with me and I'll keep you safe, or die trying, but if you fuck up and cause the death of one of my leopards, or my friends, I will kill you. I don't want you to be crying later and saying you didn't understand. Because if you've earned it, I will shoot you while you beg me not to."

"But who decides whether I deserve it?" he asked.

"I do."

He stared up at me as if he weren't sure if he was safer with me or without me. I watched him think it through and felt nothing, no pity. Because Gil the werefox was a liability. In a combat situation he was a fucking casualty waiting to happen. I was civilized enough to give him protection when he asked, but not civilized enough to pay in the blood of those I held dear. In that moment I knew I wasn't a sociopath, because if I had been, I'd have kicked his ass out the door. Oh, hell, I'd have shot him and put him out of everyone's misery. Instead I offered him a hand, and pulled him to his feet.

"Do you understand the rules?" I asked.

"I understand," he whispered.

"You willing to live by them?"

He gave one small nod.

"You willing to die by them?"

He took a shaky breath, then gave another nod.

I smiled and knew it never reached my eyes. "Then welcome to the club, and keep your head down. There's some business we have to take care of tonight. You can come along." Even I wasn't sure if that was an invitation or a threat.