He pauses then, studying me. “How would you have done it?”His question surprises me. “You mean how would I have killed you?”“Yes. Do you have a favorite method for such things?”Since he knows I am an assassin, there is no need to be coy. “I prefer a garrote. I like the intimacy it allows me when I whisper reminders of vengeance in their ears as they die. But in your case, I had sharpened my favorite knife especially for the occasion.”His brows quirk up. “Why no garrote for me?”I look pointedly at his thick neck, bulging with muscle and sinew. “I do not have one big enough,” I mutter.
Robin LaFevers
assassin, assassins, garrote, murder