He released Elene deliberately, stepped back. Her eyes were red, but still shining as she dabbed her tears away with a handkerchief. A sudden desire to sweep her into his arms and kiss her crashed over him in a wave. He blinked, held himself still until reality could reassert itself. He opened his mouth, couldn’t say a thing, couldn’t ruin it. He tried again, ready to lay out his lies, couldn’t. Relationships are ropes. Love is a noose. Durzo told me. He gave me a chance. I could have been a fletcher, an herbalist. I chose this.

“I was ordered never to see you. By my master.” His tongue was leaden. “Durzo Blint.”

He could tell even Elene had heard of Durzo Blint. Her eyes tightened in confusion. He could see her working through it: if Durzo was his master, that meant . . . He saw a quick little disbelieving smile, as if she were about to say, “But wetboys are monsters, and you’re not a monster.” But then the smile faded. Why else would her Azoth never contact her? How else would a guild rat disappear so completely?

Her eyes grew distant. “When I was hurt, I remember you arguing with someone, demanding that he save me. I thought it was a dream. That was Durzo Blint, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“And you . . . now you’re what he is?” Elene asked.

“Close enough.” Actually, I’m not even full-fledged horror, I’m just an assassin, a hack.

“You apprenticed with him so he would save me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “You became what you are because of me?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. He gave me a chance to leave after I killed Rat, but I didn’t want to be afraid anymore, and Durzo was never afraid, and even as an apprentice, he paid me so well that I could—” he stopped.

Her eyes narrowed as she puzzled it out. “That you could support me,” she finished. She put her hands over her mouth.

He nodded. Your beautiful life is built on blood money. What was he doing? He should be lying to her, the truth could only destroy. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you. I—”

“You’re sorry?!” Elene interrupted him. He knew what the next words out of her mouth would be: You’re a failure. Look at what you’ve done to me. “What are you talking about?” she asked. “You’ve given me everything! You fed me on the streets when I was too young to find food for myself. You saved me from Rat. You saved me when your master was going to let me die. You put me with a good family who loved me.”

“But—aren’t you mad at me?”

She was taken aback. “Why would I be mad at you?”