Page 78 of Tin God

Tenzin didn’t mind her reputation; it was well-earned. “I killed those who needed to be killed. See that you never become someone needing to be killed and we will remain friends.”

The Russian looked amused. “We don’t really have friends, do we? Immortals like us? We don’t have friends.”

Tenzin thought about Ben first. Then Giovanni. About Beatrice. About Chloe and even about Gavin. Arthur and Drew. It was an odd assortment of mortal and immortal connections she had collected in the past thousand years. Brigid might even join the list.

“I think I do have friends,” Tenzin said. “And if you ever harm any of them, you will know who they are.”

Oleg still looked amused. “You’re not going to give me a clue?”

She wrinkled her nose. “No.”

Oleg’s cheeks turned a little red. He almost looked like he was going to laugh. “I have no desire to make you my enemy, Khazar.”

“Nor I you, Varangian.” She started walking to the door.

“But your reputation is expanding.”

Tenzin turned. “To what?”

He plucked at a loose thread on his sleeve, pinching the string between his fingers until a small puff of smoke escaped. He flicked the ash from his fingertips and looked at her. “You used to be an assassin. Now some are calling you the executioner.”

The difference was subtle but not without meaning. “They can call me an executioner if they want. Someone in our world has to be.”

“And you think it should be you?”

She shrugged. “Is there anyone else who wants the job?”

Brigid was packingin her room when Tenzin found her. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed Tenzin standing there. “Lev wants to leave within the hour.”

Tenzin shrugged. “I don’t have anything to pack. Everything I own is in my bag.” It was pretty much clean socks and underwear, a spare tunic, and her tablet so she could contact Ben.

And gold. She had gold sewn into the seams.

“Good. I’m almost ready too. I’ll take the dogsled back into town. You’ll fly of course. And then I think Oleg’s plane will meet us there. It’s only a few hours to Juneau after that. We’ll have plenty of dark.”

Tenzin watched her. So efficient. So precise. She ordered her life as if she’d served in an army. “You have the habits of a soldier.”

“Do I?” Brigid didn’t look up.

“Did Murphy teach you that?”

“No, that was recovery.”

Tenzin frowned. “Recovery?”

“The drugs, remember?” Brigid zipped up her backpack and turned, slinging the bag over her shoulder. “I had a mentor in the first rehab I ever went to after I became an addict. He emphasized how keepin’ your life organized could help your recovery from substance abuse. It didn’t work for everyone, but it worked for me.”

“Until you overdosed on heroin?”

“It’s a process, not a destination,” Brigid muttered. “And thanks for reminding me. I’d almost forgotten that my failure in drug recovery led to me becoming a vampire. Wouldn’t wanna forget that.”

Tenzin pointed at her. “Sarcasm. You and Ben both like it.”

“It’s our common language.” She pointed toward the door. “Shall we?”

“I have a question.”

Brigid put her other arm through her backpack. “What is it?”