“Is it done?” Cam strapped the saddle bags he’d somehow managed to stuff all my clothes in to the little bike—not quite a motorcycle but bigger and less dorky than a scooter. When I didn’t answer right away, he stepped over to me, grabbing my face in his hands and squeezing. “Coniglietto. Is it done? Did you take care of her?”
“Yes.” Even to my own ears my voice sounded dull and lifeless. Considering the fact I felt high as fucking kite, I could only assume it was shock. “I took care of her.”
Not in the way he meant, not exactly, but I’d taken care of her the best way I knew how.
I’d done a lot of horrible things, on purpose and accident, and I had no doubt I would do more horrible things still. But I’d be damned even more than I already was before I actually killed my sister.
“Good girl.” Cam pressed a quick, hard kiss to my forehead before steering me toward the bike. “I have little doubt the archangels will be here soon—so we shouldn’t be.”
“Where are we going?” It didn’t matter. I had, for all intents and purposes, hooked my wagon to his. If anyone threw doubt on my commitment to the so-called cause, all Cam would have to do was point out what I’d done to Joanne. Sure, there might be trouble when it came out she wasn’t actually dead but it could all be explained away as yet another newbie mistake.
After all, they taught us how to not kill people. Not the opposite.
“I’m thinking Prague.” He settled himself on the bike, gesturing for me to do the same. He handed me a helmet, his lips curving upward when I stared at it blankly. “Safety, little rabbit. And a disguise. It’s safer for us to blend in at the moment.”
“Right.” My hands felt thick and clumsy as I struggled to strap on the protective headgear and I cursed under my breath when Cam finally took pity on me and did it himself. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Change is hard, little rabbit.” He brushed his lips over mine before flicking the tip of my nose. “Now, let’s go take over the world, hmm?”