“Hugh and I would still practice murder. We’re two sides of the same coin.”

“Exactly,” Doolittle said. “The opposite sides. Why did you choose to work for the Guild?”

“Partially because I was hiding in plain sight.”

“And?”

It was my turn to sigh. “Because I wanted to be happy with what I did with my life. I had done some things when I was a child. I don’t blame myself for them. I did them because the adult in my life directed me to do them and praised me when I succeeded. But when I grew up, looking back at what I had done became difficult. I wanted to help someone for a change. The Guild let me choose which jobs I took, and I got to be ‘the good guy,’ if only for a while.”

“And that’s the crucial difference between you and Hugh. He’s an aggressor, and you’re the protector.” Doolittle leaned forward. “You could’ve been a hired killer or someone’s private weapon. Instead you chose to protect everyone around you. It’s as natural to you as breathing and I selfishly count myself to be very lucky to benefit from that, even if that urge sometimes takes you too far.”

The way he said “too far” threw me right back to a few months ago, when he had come to after Hugh had healed him. I sat down so we would be on the same level. This had to be said. I just didn’t know how to say it. I decided to just barrel right through it. “You don’t have to worry. I know how you feel about my particular brand of magic. I hope it never comes to that, but if it does, I won’t pull you back from death like I did Julie.”

What I had done to Julie wasn’t healing. She didn’t know it, but it made her unable to refuse a direct order from me. I remembered the fear in Doolittle’s eyes when he regained consciousness and thought I had taken away his free will with my magic. Sometimes I dreamed about that, too.

Doolittle froze for a painful second. His voice was quiet. “Was I that easy to read?”

“You had just come back from death,” I said.

“I meant no offense. When I spoke about going too far, I meant that your urge to protect sometimes ends with you being hurt. You take on too much. But we might as well get this out in the open. I appreciate everything you’re willing to do, but I won’t live as anyone’s slave. My family has been legally free since 1865 and I won’t surrender my freedom no matter how benevolent of a master I’ll get. I would rather be dead.”

“I understand,” I told him.

We sat quietly for a few long moments.