Page 34 of The Dragon and the Dove

‘Armand repented. He founded the Cloaks to distance himself from murder.’

‘It was not Armand who came to me,’ said Theo.

He knew Hugo’s face as well as his own. After all, they shared an uncanny likeness.

Another uncomfortable truth.

‘Why don’t you open the door a crack?’ she suggested. ‘See what you’ve become. What you can do.’

‘I can’t.’ He shook his head.

‘It’s a gift.’

She didn’t get it. She couldn’t feel it. The fear. The want.

‘I won’t do it,’ he said, firmer now. ‘I won’t risk it.’

‘All right,’ she relented. ‘As you like.’

He drained his drink, feeling dangerously woozy already. ‘Don’t say a word.’

Her brows lifted. ‘What do you plan to do? Hide the fact you’re a saint from everyone?’

‘I’m going to do my job. Make a weapon capable of killing Andreas in one strike, and make sure he meets the end of it. And when it’s done…’

‘You’ll run away? Go into hiding?’ She snorted. ‘Come on, Theo. You’re no shrinking violet.’

‘Maybe I’ll go home to Halbracht.’

‘And that would be enough for you? Horse manure and barn dances.’

‘Maybe.’

Another snort.

He glared at her over the rim of his glass.

He would be good. Not great.

He didn’t want to be great.

Liar, hissed the old voice.

Here is your power.

Here is your chance.

Take it.

Take it!

‘I think you’re afraid, Theo. And that fear is clouding your judgement of who you truly are. Who you are meant to become,’ she said, softly. ‘Saints cannot hide from destiny. It’s their very duty to shape it.’

Easy for her to say. She didn’t share the same face as the most reviled man in the history of Valterre. Draining his drink, he waved at the barman, ordering two more.

When the next round was set down, Paola said, ‘You can’t drink away this problem.’

‘Well, at least let me try.’