Page 107 of How to Kill Your Rival

‘Mmhmm.’

We watch the muted horse racing for a time, content to just hang out together.

‘You should take your seat at the Council back. When you’re better. It might be a good⁠—’

‘No,’ he says.

‘Dad—’

‘No, Eliza. It’s yours. You’ve earned it.’

‘I nearly lost it,’ I say. ‘The contracts, the undermining…’

‘It’s still yours. You don’t think we’ve all thought of dropping out at some point? Of letting failure make you want to run?’

‘It’s harder than I thought.’

‘You think it wasn’t hard for me every year for the first five?’ He shifts, and I feel him rest his head on mine. ‘You held on to it. Through everything they threw at you.’

‘Not on my own.’

Dad chuckles. ‘Well, shit, kiddo, you don’t think I did it all on my own, do you?’

I don’t say anything.

‘I made mistakes, too. And had help. You don’t need to do it alone. Having friends in this industry is a pro, not a con.’

‘Dad—’

‘I’m not finished,’ he says. ‘Eddie was my mistake, too. I knew what he was, even if I didn’t know the extent of it.’

I press my face further into his cardigan and inhale him.

‘What do I do? With the Stewarts. With Kavanagh. I know what I want to do.’ I stop. Knowing that I’m seeking his validation. ‘I want to know what you’d do.’

Outside, a wood pigeon lands on the windowsill and makes a din.

‘You know what to do,’ he says.

I wait.

‘Make them pay.’

There’s a cold rage beneath the words that ignites my own fury.

‘Your way. With James beside you, and Fraser, and whatever’s left of the Council worth keeping once you’ve cleared out the ones who don’t deserve the seat they’re sitting in.’

‘That’s most of them,’ I say.

‘Yes,’ he says. ‘It is. So you’d better get some sleep first. You’ve got a lot of work to do.’

36

JAMES

For a room full of professional killers, the Death Council is feeling particularly antsy this morning. I get here first, as I usually do, and take my seat. The table is set up the same as always; our teacups and saucers are already in place before people start coming in. Fraser is the most unusual sight, often one of the last to arrive, but here already and stalking around like a cow who feels an impending hurricane. Maybe he does. That hurricane is Eliza.

The past two days have had her laser-focused on this meeting. I’ve done what I can to support her, but my role is clear. Be there. Be armed. Be ready.