36	A GOOD MAN

OLIVER WAS WAITING FOR THEM at headquarters, and together they went to the security floor. The chief was in his office, almost waiting for them, when they arrived. Ara burst open the door, her blades in her hands, and death on her face.

Sam was putting away his files. He looked up at them, disinterested, unafraid. “I wondered when you would get here,” he said.

“Why, Sam?” she asked. “Why did you do it? You fought so hard to defeat Lucifer—how could you do this?”

“I fought, and fought, and fought. All I did was fight,” he said wearily. “I was a Venator for longer than any one of you can know. Kingsley,” he said, spotting his old friend in the doorway.

“Sam,” Kingsley said, and there were tears in his eyes. “Sam… you should have told someone you needed help.”

“I told them it wasn’t you. I told them, but they wouldn’t listen.” Sam shrugged. “I told them you were a good man.”

“You were a good man.”

“I was. But the War broke me.” He brought out a frame and showed Ara. “You didn’t know her. Her name was Dehua Chen. Deming’s sister. My bondmate. She died in the War. I lost her.”

“We lost a lot of good people,” she said.

“You didn’t,” Sam said, looking at Kingsley and Mimi accusingly. “You got your happy ending. But when she died, all I got… was nothing. Just this fucking job…”

“I thought we were friends, too, Sam,” Oliver said. Everyone turned to look at the beleaguered Regis who had just arrived.

“Friends?” Sam snarled. “You had everything—the Coven—her. Your little human familiar. You were happy. I blamed you for her death. Dehua died saving your ass.”

Oliver twitched. He had been mortal in the battle; it was before his transformation. Sam was right—Dehua had saved him, had died saving him.

“She gave her life for yours. I never forgave you. Never.”

“She would hate you,” Mimi said. “Dehua fought Lucifer; she gave her life fighting him. She would hate you for what you’ve done here.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I think of that every day of my life?” he spat. “Peace. Fuck your peace. I don’t have peace. Now you’ll never have peace. Suck on their blood, and see what monster you create.” He laughed. “See how Lucifer is in all their hearts, all their minds.”

“What did the Nephilim promise you, Sam?” Oliver asked quietly. “Did they promise that you could have Dehua back? Is that what they promised?”

Sam smiled a deathly smile. “How did you know?”

“I know the way they work. They feed into your desires, and they twist them. They give you what you want, but what they meant to do was for you to join her—in death.”

“You killed Georgina,” Kingsley said.

“Had to be done. She was asking too many questions, nosing around. She saw me do a drop-off at the corner, and she asked me point-blank if I was Darcy’s supplier. I told her I was, and that if she met me later that night I would tell her where I got it.”

“Ivy—she was the one who got the blood for you, wasn’t she? She scraped them off the paintings. You targeted her, you needed Allegra’s blood as well as Lucifer’s, and you needed an artist to get it.”

He smiled. “Then she goes and tells Finn that she’s my human familiar. Little tattletale. But that’s the best part of this story. Finn.”

“What about Finn?” asked Oliver, seething. He hated to hear her name on this traitor’s evil lips.

“I didn’t do anything to Finn,” he said with a smile. “She volunteered. Your little perfect trophy. I found her trolling for drugs on the streets.”

Oliver was shocked into silence.

“When she found out what I was doing, she wanted to be part of it. She was the one who put the pentagram in your office, and on your building, to mark you as one of our victims.”

“No,” Oliver said softly. “No. Not Finn.”

“I didn’t see it. Edon and I questioned her and I didn’t see it,” said Ara, appalled. “She was mortal—I didn’t think she had the ability to lie to me.”

“We bumped into each other, right before the raid on the Nephilim nest,” Sam said. “She asked me what I was doing there and I told her. Poisoning the kids would be the first step; if it worked, the infection would spread. I thought I’d kill her like the rest, but she said she had a better idea. She thinks big, I’ll give that to her.”

“No,” Oliver said. “No, you’re lying.”

“She begged me not to kill her; she said she would take the rest of the remains in one pill the night of the ball. I had only been using a tiny bit of it in the drugs, but she said she wanted me to make her one with every last ash in it. She would take it right before the investiture. Afterward she would offer herself up to you. She knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself, that you would want to suck on her right there.” His eyes gleamed with a terrible madness. “So that you would take her—kill her—and then she could come back. As something else. Reborn, shall we say. She wanted another life. Eternal life. She wanted you to give it to her. To be the one to kill her; it would be her last gift to you and the Coven.” He smiled an evil, empty grin. “What did you do to her, Oliver, to make her hate you so much?”

Oliver lunged at Sam, but Kingsley held him back. “Easy, man… don’t be like him. Don’t give in to revenge.”

Sam laughed.

Edon moved to handcuff him, and Mimi was there with her sword, but before they could stop her, Ara had her blades out. The crescent blades, her moon shanks. A Venator’s deadliest weapon able to kill the most dangerous of enemies. Lucifer’s men.

She ran toward Sam and with an agonized, angry scream cut his head off his body with her weapons.

No trial, no courtrooms. Justice was meted out by the Venator’s blades.

No mercy, because she was a Venator, and she had found the monster lurking in the shadows. Just as she had vowed, she had uncovered the secrets of the darkness and brought the truth to light.

Ara dropped the blades to the ground and fell on her knees, sobbing. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” She didn’t know to whom she was apologizing, but she knew she had to ask for forgiveness.

Edon looked askance and pulled her up to stand, held her while she cried. “Don’t blame yourself, Ara. It’s not your fault. You did what you had to,” he said. His voice was the kindest she had ever heard.

“Hey,” Edon growled. “Look at me. You’re not a killer. You’re a good person.”

She nodded and gulped her tears and sobbed some more. Because Sam Lennox was a good man, but things had been taken from him—hope, love, life—and so he had done this. He needed salvation just as much as she had.

“Ara.” Edon sighed.

“I can’t… I can’t…,” she said.

Edon embraced her. The Regis was standing there, looking lost, and Kingsley and Mimi were standing behind him; Mimi was patting his shoulder.

The door burst open again and Deming Chen entered with a group of Venators, blades and guns at the ready. She saw Sam’s body on the floor. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Go,” Kingsley said to Edon. “We’ll take care of this. But you take her out of here. Take care of her.”