Chapter 10: Fall For Me

"Achilles, Achilles, come down."

— 22 —

"I thought you said you didn't like stuff from Mistral," Weiss said, holding up the book Blake was trying to read. Ninjas of Love by Blake's favorite author, Felicia LeBleau.

Her cat ears pulled back on her head as she lunged across the bed to grab the book. She had turned around for just a moment to try to adjust her pillow for the night. They'd been having a good night, just talking as a team for the first time ever. Having a sort of collective moment where they were all just themselves, not really caring about anything, just relaxing.

Shamrock had taught them a thing or two about cards. Blake had been idly discussing how to use a bobby pin as a lockpick, including a demonstration on the cage of skincare products in the bathroom. And Weiss was loading Dust rounds into her rapier, explaining how to use the revolver in the handle and her Semblance to best effect. Just a normal night. A bizarrely unusual thing for the team. A really comforting sort of progress and chill.

And when she turned her back, left her book unattended, bam!

"Give it back!" Blake demanded frantically. "And it's not from Mistral; Felicia LeBleau is Valean. She just likes to write about diverse topics."

Weiss tossed the book over her shoulder to prevent Blake from getting it. Shamrock picked it up and opened it to a random page.

"I don't know if diverse is the right word," he said.

Blake pouted. Maybe the genres weren't diverse, but the topics within them, the subgenres, they definitely were. No two books from this author were ever alike, except in some key tropes that were just inherent to the genre. People expected them. "If you call it porn, I'm going to stab you."

He gave her a skeptical look. "I mean, your words, not mine. But it's pretty easy to tell what you're reading by your shirt."

Blake looked down at her tank top, frowning. It was a thin, black thing, perfectly suited for the warm heating of the dorms this late in winter. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Weiss came over to Shamrock, and made a show of being impressed by the picture on the page. "Let's just say it's not that cold inside."

Shamrock laughed, and even Weiss found it hard to resist joining. Meanwhile, Blake's ears went straight up, feeling hot. She knew exactly what it meant, and she suddenly felt so goddamn embarrassed by everything. She self-consciously covered her chest, folding her arms to protect herself. It didn't really help anything. If anything, the gesture just made it funnier for them.

"You guys are the worst," she whined, but without any real heat. "Sure, there's some of that going on. But it's really a story about the characters. Unlikely love. Impossible challenges. And really surprising twists."

"Plus some pretty good artwork," Weiss noted.

Blake nodded seriously. "If you read it, you'd know. Sure, it does a few things to appeal to audiences outside what it has to, but it's really good."

Shamrock considered, taking the book with him as he sat on his bed. "I never really got into books. I only learned how to read pretty late in life. Books were a luxury back home."

Weiss frowned. "You don't really know how to read?"

Making a so-so gesture, Shamrock said, "No, I do. I just suck at spelling. I'd be doomed without autocorrect. Only reason my grades are as bad as they are is because I keep getting points knocked off my homework for spelling mistakes."

"I could help," Weiss offered. "My grammar is without exception."

"Let me guess," Blake said with a sly smile. "Your dad used to whip you if you spelled things wrong."

Weiss shook her head. "No, my teachers made me stay up extra late and skip dinner to get grammar right if I messed up. Had to practice reciting old poems like The Grimm Lands from memory, and write them all day." With an almost wistful noise, she said, "Consider Ozbas, who was once as tall and handsome as you. He who was living is now dead. We who were living are now dying. With little patience."

"Could you help me with that stuff?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, I can." She grabbed the book, holding it up with a smile. "We can practice with this."

Blake shifted uncomfortably. "Weiss…"

Weiss looked up suddenly. "I'm serious. Would you mind if I borrowed this? You're already reading stuff and, I guess, I want to learn more about it. And we can use it to practice grammar." A pause. "The grammar here is good, right? You said something about bad grammar in your favorite books."

With a grimace, Blake said, "I find typos here and there. Felicia is self-published."

"Then we can find mistakes in print and fix them!" Weiss said, clapping her hands. "It'll be fun! Like solving a mystery or a puzzle, but grammatical! It'll be like going through your old essays and reading them out loud to figure out what's wrong and fix them."

Blake could literally imagine nothing quite as boring. It wasn't like they were going to collect a list of grammar mistakes and weird syntax and write a letter to Felica to fix up her next print. It just seemed like a pointless, incredibly soul-crushing endeavor. Sure, Felica's grammar had some mistakes, but it was pretty good for the most part. Blake never had any trouble interpreting it. And the weirder parts, she mostly chalked up to a character's accent. A couple of her books had people who spoke wrong all the time, and she had to slowly learn to get used to the accents until she could safely just gloss over them and understand them. Same sort of deal she had going on with Jaune's mangled accent, come to think.

She'd once asked Jaune how his head could work with the way he utterly butchered language, wondering how anyone could not only speak like he did, but think like he spoke. He had to have some internal monologue going on. Everyone did.

"Ain't nobody know the cow better than the butcher do," he'd told her, and shrugged. And Blake had sort of accepted that as a metaphor for language. Sort of. She was pretty sure the cow knew itself pretty well, except that cattle were stupid by nature. So maybe language was the same way.

It didn't really matter, she supposed.

"I guess," Blake said. "But you gotta tell me what you think of the book. Don't, like, don't write a book report. But I'd really like to share the books with someone beside Jaune. Might be kind of cool? I don't know."

"He reads these too?" Shamrock asked. He adjusted the collar of his nightshirt.

"Mostly just so he can tease me, but yeah," Blake said. She ran her hand through her hair, feeling her cat ears.

"Is Ninjas of Love the best place to start with her catalogue?" Weiss asked.

Blake thought for a moment. "About as good as anywhere. All of her works are sort of tied together in a metaverse. Different timelines or even worlds, but they have little nods to each other. This one is standalone, so—"

Everyone froze, their attention snapping to the door. The card lock to the room clicked. Someone had just unlocked it. Which didn't make any sense. Everyone who had a key to the room was here or far away on vacation. So who could be opening the door, especially this late in the evening?

Silently, everyone exchanged quick, nervous glances. Were they somehow in trouble? No, that wouldn't make sense. Was some kind of janitor or whatever coming to clean the rooms, presuming most people were out? That almost made sense, but they weren't exactly being quiet before, even if the room was fairly insulated from outside sound. That just left everyone confused, and for a vague bit, almost worried.

The door opened, and Jaune stepped in. "Back by unpopular demand, me!" he said, making a flippant gesture with one armored hand.

Jaune looked bad. He was kitted out in his full armor, which had seen damage and combat. Blake still remembered the impact of the buckshot on his chest, which now scored his breastplate. It had been a stupid, suicidal attempt to fight off the White Fang for reasons she couldn't even articulate anymore. His face was a patchwork of bruises and cuts, looking like he had tried to make out with a freight train. It was almost like someone had broken his cheek and nearly shattered his nose, and it had only just barely been reset. There was a nasty laceration across his cheek that was certainly going to become a scar. It made Blake think of the one she gave Weiss, currently hidden under her bangs. But more importantly, the blood. There was so much blood. Under layers of snow still sticking to his clothing, she could see the dried blood across his chest. His open face jacket looked like it had been cut and burned in places, no longer the hot piece of fashion it was when he got it only a couple of weeks back.

He set his bag down on his bed, and parked himself down. He gave the team a smile, the kind of smile that just said I've seen hell and laughed. Just looking at it made her heart drop.

"What the hell are you doing back this early, Jaune?" Shamrock asked, the first to speak.

Jaune shrugged. "Didn't see eye to eye with my old man. Left. Got into a fight with some Grimm. Walked my ass on back here." He gestured towards him. "Looks like y'all were having fun without me. Blake, what did I tell you about having interesting character development without me there to observe it?"

"But, your face!" Weiss said, her hand going to her own fresh scar.

She couldn't have just been talking about the injuries. His face almost didn't look like his own anymore. That little beard he had just started to make work was gone. Roughly shaven off, leaving a patchwork of little cuts all across his jawline. It looked kind of weird; Blake hadn't liked it at first, but the beard had been growing on her. She'd always imagined touching it would be rough like sandpaper for some reason, like her dad's beard. She had never really gotten the chance to do that. Clean shaven, it just made the injuries stand out all the more, no fur to hide behind.

"Gorgeous, I know," he said with a tired nod. "You should have seen the other guy."

Blake finally got up and made her way towards him. She leaned in, examining him. "Way to go ahead and ruin the mood, Jaune," she finally settled on saying. She wasn't going to ask why he was here. Wasn't going to turn this into some kind of interrogation. In a weird way, part of her was both glad he was here, and somewhat miffed he was interrupting what had almost been a moment between the team without him. "Coming in here all injured like that, trying to make things about you. I have half a mind to just lock you outside until we're done bonding in here."

The smile he suddenly had on was a genuine thing. It wasn't pained or hurt; it wasn't filled with meaning or self-loathing. "Yeah, I missed you too, Blake. Fuck it, I missed you all. Love being with you guys. Better than any kind of family I've got out there."

She quirked an eyebrow. "No homo, right?"

Still holding the book, Weiss gave Blake a skeptical look. Blake refused to acknowledge it. This was a joke between her and her partner. And if it confused other people, all the better.

Jaune broke out laughing. "Nah, Blake. This is some serious golf ball through a garden hose shit. It's good to be back." Without warning, without asking for her permission, he reached out and grabbed her and a hug. The exact kind of hug she wouldn't be caught dead letting people know she and Jaune ever did.

Once, after she'd activated his Aura, she had let him hug her. And having made it quite clear that if anybody walked in and saw them, she was going to scream and blame it all on him. Claim it was an assault or something. But right here, right now, his cold body against her, for some reason she found herself willing to hug him back—and damn whoever saw.

Jaune smelled of old cologne and distant cigarettes. An aroma of someone fresh from the fight, mixed with sweat and old blood and gunpowder residue. It wasn't exactly an appealing smell, but it wasn't exactly something uninviting. Part of her almost enjoyed it, in a weird, masochistic kind of way.

With a gentle firmness, he let her go and pushed her away. "Alright, that's enough of that girly sappy huggy stuff. I really need to change and wash off."

"If it helps," Blake said with a sly little smile, "I picked the lock on Weiss' cage of skin care products. Should be free for the taking."

"Wait, hold on, those are mine!" Weiss snapped, and everybody looked at her. Suddenly, she was giving a nervous kind of laugh. "I mean, yeah. Go for them. You kind of look like you need them more than me right now."

"Luh ya too, ice queen," he said with a laugh.

— 23 —

Blake found Jaune late into the night, sitting on the roof of the dorms. His legs dangling off the edge, he just kind of hunched over, looking out across the campus and the distant city with a cigarette in his mouth.

"There you are," she said, tightening the jacket around her shoulders. "You just show up, shower, and vanish. What did I tell you about smoking?"

He ashed the cigarette over the edge, looking at her mildly. "Figured me it'd bring you."

"What?"

The boy shook his head. He still looked weird now, clean shaven. He looked like the same boy she had hated, instead of the one she had grown to like. "Every time I drag over a cigarette, I get interrupted. You, Ruby, someone else. At this point, I'm considering keeping cigs on me as a kind of emergency flare. Whenever I really need someone, I'll light up and expect them to show up and tell me smoking is bad."

He held it up to her. The paper wrapping it was all black.

"These them kreteks I found in my old fanny pack. Think I stole me 'em from the White Fang back during the Dust store. Kinda forgot I had 'em in there all this time. Used to store drugs in that thing, and now just thinking about it makes me feel uncomfortable, y'know? Feels like a lifetime ago, like years ago, but it was only a couple months back. Funny how that feels."

"Yeah," she said, deciding to sit next to him instead of chastising him. That didn't stop her from plucking the cigarette from his hand and tossing it over the side. She gave him a kind of smug look.

Jaune just smiled at her in a warm kind of way that made her almost uncomfortable in the chest. "You and the team seem to be getting along."

"Yeah, we had a bunch of stupid moments. Me, Shamrock, Weiss. We all got to talking and we all got to thinking."

"Great. The moment I step away and y'all figure shit out. It's like me just being there makes it worse for you." He rested his elbows on his legs.

"Don't say that," she said sharply. And when he gave her a curious look, she had to fake a cough to buy herself some time. "I mean, I don't know. Remember the way you and Cardin made friends?"

"Uh-huh."

Blake shrugged uncomfortably. "I guess it was kind of like that. A whole bunch of stupid. I actually punched her in the face, Weiss. She was yelling at me, and I panicked, and I just punched her."

"Wait, wait, wait, you actually goddamn punched a bitch?"

She looked away demurely. "Yeah. I ran off, not knowing what to do. I figured I should ask the one person who screwed up more than anybody else I know and is somehow still alive and functioning. I asked you. Somehow, coming to you for advice just seems like the thing to do these days, and it's kind of embarrassing." She laughed awkwardly. "It just kind of seems like you have things together sometimes. You're really good at pretending. And sometimes, you pretend so hard it actually works. So when I asked you for advice, you just told me to be honest. Face things head on and acknowledge what I've done. So I did."

"Is that why you're not wearing your hair bow?" he asked. "When I realized it was gone, I almost panicked for you. But then I realized you were doing that on purpose. Just letting your ears be out around your teammates. Even Weiss. Didn't look like she really noticed or minded."

She rubbed her arms. "Yeah. You gave me a lot to think about, and it was kind of stupid. But I figured it wasn't like I could dig my grave any deeper if I followed your advice, yeah?"

"I'm flattered you think so highly of me," he remarked dryly.

Blake smiled, more at herself than anything else. "So I took the bow off and came to her as myself. She's actually pretty screwed up in the head. Kind of makes me feel better that I'm not that bad."

"Let me guess, you're worse?"

Blake laughed. "At least I never thought I was going to get dog babies."

"What?"

She couldn't keep the smile down. "Honestly, it's really not my story to tell. But it's kind of funny, how fucked up she is. Like how Shamrock doesn't really know what's going on themselves. We're all just a bunch of idiots trying to figure out why we're all alive, what we're doing, and how we can be there for each other, I guess." She shook her head. "I know, I know, it sounds so girly and stupid out loud, but it's true. We're from all across the world, and we've all got the same problem in some way—a bunch of dumb girls and whatever it is a Shamrock is, and of course whatever it is a you is, just trying to figure life out step at a time."

He looked out across the night skyline. The snow had stopped falling, and all that was left was the wind. Blake still felt like her jacket wasn't tight enough. The cold didn't seem to bother Jaune. If she looked, she could see a faint glow of Aura from the back of his eyes. She thought it was slightly wasteful to use it for this, but if he wanted to use his soul to stay warm and comfortable, that was his prerogative. She really couldn't blame him. The weather in Vale was cold and it sucked this time of year.

"I don't ever think I've got things figured out either," he said quietly. "But that's never really stopped me. Half the time I'm just flailing my way forwards. The only thing I know how to do is shut up and soldier on, like the soldier I am. Powered by inertia like a shark. I'll die if I stop moving. If I stop soldiering."

Blake dredged up uncomfortable memories of seeing those other versions of Jaune. Especially the one in that crisp, starchy military uniform. It was probably the personality she liked least. Just on a conceptual level. Even though she wasn't sure what his deal was. She still didn't really know what any of that meant. Just had worried thoughts that she pushed to the back of her head, because they didn't really matter. Jaune was Jaune. Just another complete train wreck of a boy. Someone she could relate to in that way.

"The only thing I have figured out," he said, shrugging one hand, "is that I think you believe in me."

For some reason, that sent off alarm bells in the back of her head. She sat up a little more stiffly. "What do you mean?"

He gave her a kind of sideways look. "I don't really got me nothing else in this world. Family didn't pan out. I've got no real ties or connections. Even this team feels like it mostly just tolerates my presence. You? I don't know. I think you unironically like me."

She felt herself go flush for some reason. "I, I mean, yeah. You're my partner."

"And someone who's done you wrong."

Blake frowned. "Now hold on. Where's this sudden bit of self-loathing coming from?"

The boy laughed. "I don't know. Had a heart-to-heart conversation with a man who was kind of like me, if he had just kept fucking up. Never was able to learn from mistakes. The only difference between him and I was, people seem to look past and forgive him, and never blamed him enough for him to really start trying to fix his act."

"So you're saying that I'm only a good partner because I didn't like you?"

"Más o menos," he said. "I didn't realize it at first. I was too high and drunk in my little world. The first real memory I have of you is when we met in the Emerald Forest, and you were utterly hateful that I was the first person you made eye contact with. I was a dick. But that didn't stop you from helping treat my injuries. You swallowed your disdain and did the right thing. And I didn't bother returning the favor for weeks. You were the first person here I really met. The first person here I did wrong by." He rubbed his hands together. "The first person to actually show me any care or concern. Asked me if I was all right. Not in so many words exactly but, but just the way you asked, your body language, your tone."

Blake gave him a weird look. "I don't even remember doing that."

Jaune ran his hand through his hair. "I know. And that's the most retarded part. We talked that night after I lost that blood to the doctor. The next morning, I kept thinking of people I done everything I can for and it wasn't enough. I was lost in my own little world of anger and regret, and you just looked at me and said my name with this look of concern for me. Me. I think part of that broke me. You, after everything I did, showing me a bit of genuine concern for the smallest thing."

"It really wasn't anything special," she said dubiously.

"Which is why it were all the more special. I kept thinking of that moment and I latched on to it. I—I kept thinking that this was it, this was the moment I was able to turn things around. Someone I had done wrong was willing to offer me an olive branch, a shred of forgiveness. And I'd do everything in my power to earn that. I latched onto the idea that if just one person was able to forgive me, I could be all right. Ça ira, as people here are so fond of saying.

"It's all, just, y'know?" he said, leaning back. His eyes faced the shattered moon, reflecting in his baby blues like countless broken mirrors. "Ya boy here never really had much growing up. Stuff or people. Folks was the worst. Love always felt fleeting, just an obligation. A girl would say she loved me, and I was terrified and had to go along. Intimacy felt fake. Friendships always felt fairweather, just people in the same place and time long enough, able to fake being human for the school or work day. And then nothing afterwards. Like I were the villain, some sociopath no good him at attachments. I cared for them, but when they were gone?" He shrugged. "Everyone from those days is gone, and I really don't feel nothing. Mom's gone, Dad's gone, my sister and brother never existed. Friends more a vague memory, people whose names I struggle to remember like the girls I been with. Felt hard to really get attached to people. Like there was no point to any of this anymore."

Been with. Intimacy felt fake. He was talking about sleeping with girls, wasn't he? For some reason, that put a really annoyed pit in Blake's gut. An unpleasant metallic taste in her mouth like copper Lien. Her ears flattened slightly at the thought.

Jaune looked over at her, kidnapping her from those almost angry thoughts. "Till I met you, and till you was willing to do something as stupid as ask if I was okay. Ain't I pathetic?" He laughed at himself, shaking his head.

Blake looked down into her lap. "I think it's been alright, you and me. Will be ça ira. Sure, you are the worst. Sure, I hated you. But, sure, at this point?" She grimaced. "I don't really know who else I'd like to be my partner other than you. Because, trust me, I've met guys way worse than you. You're far from the worst asshole I've ever met."

He spread his hands slightly. "You saved my life."

She laughed uncomfortably. "That's being dramatic."

"No, it's not." He just stared out into the night. "I tried to kill myself once or twice. Before we met. Out there alone in the city. I had no ties, nothing but regrets, and I didn't want to forge any kind of relationships that would prevent me. So I jumped off the roof, and was surprised to find gravity can be pretty forgiving in this world."

Something about that sent electricity down her frozen spine. All she could do was stare at Jaune in a kind of disbelief. "You what?"

He nodded. "Kept thinking back to it recently. Why I did it, and why I'm not trying anymore. It all comes back to that one moment when you ask me if I was okay. When the gravity of everything I had done really hit me, when just a small moment of human kindness was all it took to drive me forward through the abyss."

Her ears twitched. "I'm not human. Figured you'd know."

"Do it really matter?" he asked.

Blake shook her head. "No. I guess it really doesn't."

"All that do matter anymore, is this team. It's Weiss and Shamrock and being Hunters. All that really matters is you. My world started with you, and my world ends with you. There is no me without you, Blake."

He reached out to put a hand over hers, and she felt her heart leap. It was the sudden, anxious feelings she couldn't really explain or understand. The combination of those words and his touch. She looked at him, eyes wide, and didn't want to move. Didn't want to do something stupid and maybe change his mind or make him remove his hand.

She thought back to that day in the sushi bar. Everyone talking about past loves and romances that didn't go anywhere. The niceness of just having friends for friends. Jaune stating he wasn't the kind of boy for romance. But right here, right now, his hand over hers, she could have imagined him leaning in to kiss her. It'd be so easy, and she wouldn't know what to do. How to respond. That soft, hurt look in his eyes. Her ears at attention, frozen in place. The only thing moving her heart.

Blake felt her mouth feel so dry as she said, "Yeah, well. You too. I—I mean, you're my partner. We're in this stupid thing together for the next four years. And, I mean." She reached up with her other hand, tucking her hair behind her ear. "You're still kind of my first real friend. The only one I can feel like I can talk about anything with for hours. Someone who kind of gets me and has been there. Plus, y'know, even if it's not really legally the case anymore, I guess you're still my team leader. So, what I mean is—"

She let out a breath as if trying to psych herself up. She put her free hand over the hand still on hers. A little hand patty cake pile. "I'm glad you didn't jump. Didn't die. I don't know where I'd be without you. Who I'd be without you. Which is all the worst, because I'm only just starting to figure out who I am. It would be a total dick move for you to mess all that up."

He smiled sadly. "And if I jumped anyways? Dying out there in this suicidal occupation. Throwing myself into the fight for all I have, because it just might be. Fitting as the grim fate for people like us out there in this nasty little world."

"You said it yourself, Jaune. There's no you without me. So maybe I feel the same in a confusing kind of way. Even if you are some annoying asshole human boy. So maybe if you jump, I'm jumping too. If only so I can strangle you before you land for being an idiot. And that's a promise." She winked.

He gave her that kind of look again. It made her feel sweaty in the palms. One of her ears twitched freely in the night air. He reached into a jacket pocket and took out a large white feather, almost gorgeous in how it caught the moonlight. He ran a finger over it as if lost in thought, and saw her looking at it.

"So even you can see it?" he asked, sounding somehow lost. Like learning this was the worst thing possible.

She nodded. "Yeah. It's beautiful. Where's it from?"

"Hell," he said. "Proof no matter how far I go, part of me just can't move on. Games of love I played once to avoid the depression." A laugh. "Well, fuck that. Fuck everything. I'm the me of right now, of today. The Jaune of Team BASS. Your partner first and foremost, Blake Belladonna." He tightened his jaw and put it away.

"Jaune, what are you going on about now?"

Jaune shook his head. "So you'd really jump with me?"

Part of her wanted to ask him to bring back the feather. She just wanted to look at it again. To touch it like he did. But instead, she made an uncomfortable noise. "I mean, yeah. I won't let you make a liar of me."

Slowly, he adjusted his hand, until he was holding hers. She almost felt a little light-headed from nerves and worry.

"Prove it?" he asked. And it was somehow the most terrifying, and yet most magical thing she'd ever heard.

Blake swallowed. "I—what?"

"Both of us have Aura. Something I only got because of you. We can survive falls and life-threatening injuries and shrug them off together. So, fall with me, Blake."

Her mouth didn't work right. Trying to form a sentence just made a series of incoherent little noises. "Are you asking me to—?" was the best she could do. Couldn't even really finish the thought. Didn't even really know where it was going. Somewhere terrifying that put butterflies in her stomach.

Jaune stood up, and she did too, letting him continue to hold her hand. She looked up into his eyes, at that wounded face. That little smile he was wearing that seemed to cut to the core of her being. That made the cold night feel warm inside in the worst way possible.

"If I fell, would you come with? Right here, right now," he said.

"Why?"

"Because it's the feeling of standing on a ledge. Looking out across space and time. That sensation of wanting to jump, wanting to fall, just because you can see the air. To know what it's like to be alive, because you've faced death—with someone you care about. Once you've done that, it puts things into perspective. Nothing's really scary anymore. You faced death. You been dead. Everything else, it's merely pain."

She wanted to tell him no. Tell him that wasn't how it worked. Wasn't how any of this worked. But she couldn't find the words. Could barely swing together a coherent series of thoughts, let alone a solid argument. And she had told him that if he jumped, she jumped with him. So if he fell, she'd fall with him.

"You're nothing but bad ideas, Jaune," she said. "But—yeah. I promised you I would. Wherever you go, I want to be there."

Jaune smiled at her. Holding onto his hand tightly was all she could do to keep her heart in her chest. Until the boy leaned back, glowing faintly. And she realized he was being serious. He wasn't being metaphorical. Wasn't talking hypotheticals or, or, y'know, whatever. He was actually doing this. Leaning back and falling.

Oh, you stupid son of a bitch!

So Jaune fell. And she fell for him. For his sake, she corrected. They would both be safe together in the fall. They were Hunters. This wouldn't be anything dangerous. But when he fell, she had to fall too. She allowed it to happen. She didn't fight or resist. She wanted it, almost.

Because she had to be there to strangle him to death as soon as he landed.

End of Volume 4

See you next week for Before The Truth Will Set You Free, It'll Piss You Off!