For the first eight years of her life she went by Evey Moriarty. She rhymed the words together when she said them, smiling widely as she did a cute little gesture with her hands, making double V's that turned into a M. It had made him laugh once and pat her fondly on the head and so she always did it hoping for the same result. He was much better when he was smiling or laughing. When he was happy it gave you more time, time to fade into the background or find a reason to leave the room before the smile could vanish from his face and he found himself in the mood for bruises and blood instead.

Sebby knew that. Sebby understood.

It was her guardian, her Sebby, that watched the mood of Papa Jim so carefully and always tried to send her away when it started getting dangerous. Sometimes Papa Jim didn't let him though. Sometimes he glared at the big blond man and told Evey to come closer, to come sit on his lap or clamber onto the couch for a cuddle. Evey didn't like those times. She didn't like it when she was frozen against Papa Jim's side as he played with her hair and met Sebby's intense glare with a smirk.

It was odd childhood. There were moments when she was so blissfully happy that she thought that she was the luckiest little girl in the world. Times when Sebby took her fishing on his little boat or taught her how to shoot a rifle. He'd stand behind her with his big callused hand on her shoulder and tell her to slow her breathing down to nothing as she stared down the barrel through the scope. Sebby knew everything about guns. He taught her how to dismantle them, clean them, and put them back together. He taught her to calculate how the bullet would be affected by the wind and how to compensate. And the very first time she sniped a beer can at 1,000 meters with 20 km/hr wind he picked her up in a giant bear hug and twirled her around as she shrieked in delight as he laughed and said he would make a sniper of her yet.

She had Paul too. Paul who was big like Sebby but with dark eyes and skin where Sebby was blond and white. Paul had a big white smile and he'd use it on her frequently as he walked her around the grounds, her big personal shadow to keep the Bad Man away. She'd hold his big hand and not talk to him about the people he killed, Paul didn't like to talk about that, but instead she'd tell him about the bugs they were looking at and the plants and why the sky was blue. Paul told her once that he wished he'd never started working for Papa Jim. When he was young he had wanted to go to college but there was no money and while Paul was big and tough he'd never been into sport. Evey was determined that when she grew up she'd marry Paul. They'd get a big house in the country and she'd send Paul to college and they'd never, ever worry about killing people ever again.

Even times with Papa Jim could be fun so long as she minded herself and kept a careful eye on his mood. Papa Jim loved to paint and sometimes, if he was happy and she was very good, he'd come into the salon and paint with her. He'd stand next to her easel and critique her painting, telling her that her obsession with painting what she actually saw was boring, and sometimes do a painting of his own. He'd tell her funny stories just to make her laugh while they painted together and he would steal all of her red paint. Afterward she'd admire his picture and Papa Jim would preen and maybe grace her with a hug. To be honest, she never liked Papa Jim's pictures, they were always full of blood and gore and mad things, but it made Papa Jim happy to be praised and Evey liked her Papa Jim best when he was happy.

So to be honest it had to be said that she was often happy.

But there were bad times too. Bad times like when she was ripped out of bed in the early hours of the morning by Paul and Sebby. Paul barely remembering to grab Basil, her stuffed mouse and best friend, for her as they rushed her out. There was a Bad Man hunting them, Papa Jim would tell her sometimes. A Bad, Bad Man who wanted to pluck Evey's eyes from her skull and drink her blood like wine.

Sometimes Evey didn't believe him, Papa Jim loved to lie, but that didn't matter much. All that mattered was that they took her with them, Basil wrapped tightly in her arms as she was handed up into the helicopter or put into the car or however they had to run away this time. She never saw the Bad Man, not once, but she learned his name, Sherlock, and remembered to give a little shiver for Papa Jim whenever he mentioned it. He liked it when she shivered for him.

There were bad times when Sebby was sent away to work. Paul could never get Papa Jim to do anything, only Sebby could do that, so when Papa Jim asked for her to be brought to the study she had to go. It was bad to be called to the study at night, worse if Papa Jim had been drinking before he'd called for her. He'd look at her, dark eyes full of menace and tell her to take a seat. Sometimes that would be all he did. Sometimes he would yell at her, demanding to know why she was failing him, why she wasn't meeting his expectations, why was she ignoring all the violence he put in her way in his invitation to her to start and play. And sometimes he would hit her. The back of his hand would hit her cheek and she would make tears come to her eyes and cower because Papa Jim liked it when she was afraid of him.

Then there were the worst times. The times that she wished that she could forget, but didn't dare in case Papa Jim asked her about them. Like the time Papa Jim woke her up during the night and carried her downstairs to the basement Sebby forbade her to enter. He petted her as she yawned, smiled at her brightly and told her to keep quiet and be a good little girl. He took her to a small dark room with a big metal table and two chairs in it and set her down.

"Be good now, Evey," he said, smile brighter and she smiled back and shivered as he pulled out a roll of duct tape. But she was good. She didn't protest when Papa Jim taped her to the chair, didn't struggle when he pinched her skin as he giggled. She didn't say anything when he told Alex, a man Sebby had warned her to stay far, far away from, to bring in their guests.

Alex smiled and his smile was like Papa Jim's. Wide and white and a bit too mad. He brought in Josie, her nanny, and Paul in. They were bloody and bound and gagged. Evey's eyes widened and her stomach twisted into knots to see them. That morning she had seen Paul and Josie kissing in the garden. She'd been furious with Paul, had told him she hated him and avoided them all day. Had Papa Jim heard? Had he done this because of her? She began to tremble.

"Do you know what these two did, Evey?" Papa Jim asked, walking over and grabbing Josie by the jaw. He wrenched her face up so that she was looking at her. "Well? Do you?"

"No, Papa Jim," she said quietly, hoping against hope that he would just let them go. It didn't matter who Paul kissed. Not really. She would let him kiss Josie every day and still love him if Papa Jim would just let them all go right now.

"These two traitors wanted to steal you away from me," Papa Jim told her, dropping Josie's face and going over to stand behind Paul. "They wanted to run away with you, get married. Pretend that you were their little daughter and turn you into their pet." Paul was looking at her, horror in his big dark eyes as tears leaked out of them. Papa Jim kicked him in the side and Paul keeled over, collapsing against the ground. "They didn't think I'd find out!"

Alex picked up Josie and put her on the table. He tied her down. Papa Jim came to sit in the chair next to her, smiling at her sweetly as he brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Be sure and watch closely, poppet. This is what we do to traitors."

Pulling a tray full of sharp knives up, Alex picked one up and began to cut Josie. Her nanny screamed as the blood began to drop down her arm, the sound loud and sharp through her gag. Papa Jim grinned and picked up a glass of red wine from the table next to him. "Make it last, Alex," he cooed. "Make it hurt."

Josie had screamed and screamed and bled and bled as Alex carefully removed the skin from her bones. He was slow, he took his time as he peeled the flesh back, doing his best to take it off all in one piece. Paul, poor Paul on the floor, tied up so he couldn't even move had screamed with her. Tears had dropped from his eyes, soaking his gag and making the blood on his face run down like water. He looked over to Papa Jim and Evey thought he was trying to beg, but that just made Papa Jim laugh harder. When she was done, when Josie had stopped screaming and her blood ran out, Alex dropped her body into the corner and Papa Jim helped him put Paul up on the table.

She tried to close her eyes, she already felt faint and sweaty and sick from watching Josie die and wanted to go back to bed. She wanted to pretend that this had all been some horrible dream. That Josie would be there in the morning with breakfast and a smile, her face framed by soft blond hair instead of cut off. She wanted Paul to come in and ask her what she wanted to do that day. She wished that Paul and Josie had stolen her away. That they had run and found someplace where Papa Jim and Sebby could never find them. She would have been a good girl, a good pet. She would have called Paul 'Daddy' and Josie 'Mummy' and never let anyone know about the Papa Jim she'd left behind.

"Watch, poppet," Papa Jim cooed into her ear, grabbing her chin tightly. "Watch."

They burned Paul. Alex pushed red hot pokers to his flesh, into his flesh and made his beautiful cocoa skin darken and split and go red. Alex burned out his eyes, charred his fingers to bone, took off his gag and made him scream until his voice ran out.

"This is good," Papa Jim said, pressing a kiss to her temple and cuddling close to her. "You and me, poppet, we should have done this ages ago."

Paul didn't look like Paul anymore by the time Sebby came. He looked like the roast for Sunday dinner and smelled a bit like it too. His skin was crispy and even darker brown and he was still very much awake and very much alive. Papa Jim had insisted that Alex take it slow to keep Paul that way. Said it would be boring if the big man passed out.

"What the fuck is going on?" Sebby had demanded, slamming the door open with a bang. He had a gun in his hand and didn't look like he would be at all bothered to use it. Disgust came over his face as he surveyed the room. He looked at her and she looked back, a smile on her face.

Evey had learned hours ago to stop crying and to keep her eyes wide open as she watched. She'd learned to smile to hide her terror and to keep her tremors inside. She'd learned to look at the things that Alex did with detachment. He was burning an arm, not Paul's arm, with the fireplace poker. He was putting red hot sewing needles into a leg, not Paul's leg, and smiling as he did so. She kept it all inside and put a smile on the outside and that seemed to please Papa Jim. And that was good. Otherwise he might consider putting her on the table next.

"Fuck, Jim!" Sebby shouted, pushing Papa Jim aside and pulling a knife out of his pocket. He began to cut through the duct tape, his eyes focused on her to keep from cutting her. "What the hell were you thinking!?"

"We're having a family bonding experience," Papa Jim said, eyes glinting dangerously.

"She's six!"

"She has to learn!"

"Like hell she does." Freeing her, he'd scooped her up into his arms. She'd buried her face into his neck and clung to him with all her strength as he carried her from the room. He put a bullet into Paul's head as they left, not even hesitating as he held her tight. It made her happy enough to cry.

Sebby carried her upstairs, put her back to bed, fetched Basil from the wardrobe where she'd taken to hiding him, and put him into her arms. Evey had held her stuffed mouse tightly, putting her face into his rough, battered fur and tried to keep everything locked up tight inside. She shook at the effort, the shaking worse when Sebby awkwardly put his arms around her.

"It's okay, kid," he said quietly, his voice rough. "It was a bad thing that happened. Let it all out."

Throwing her arms around Sebby, she closed her eyes tightly and began to cry. Big hard tears, big hard sobs, as she keened into Sebby's shoulder and wished that this night could just go away. All she wanted was Paul and Josie back.

Sebby never left for a job again after that. He told Papa Jim over breakfast that he couldn't trust the smaller man alone with his own thoughts.

"They were traitors, Seb," Papa Jim had growled at him, bacon drooping on his fork. "What would you have had me do with them?"

"They might have had to die, but you didn't need to bring the kid into it!" Sebby had roared back.

A snort was all the Papa Jim would say in reply, but he turned his dark glare to her and smirked dangerously. "What's the matter, poppet? Didn't enjoy last night? Why aren't you eating your breakfast?"

Evey had looked down at her plate of bacon and sausage and thought of Paul burning in Alex's hands. "I had lots of fun," she said quietly and picked up her fork. She shoveled the food into her mouth, not even tasting it as Papa Jim turned back to Sebby. "See! I told you it was a bonding experience!"