Night Angel Nemesis by Brent Weeks EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Brent Weeks
- Language: English
- Genre: Action & Adventure Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
He’s young and likely innocent and I wish it made a difference. If he
doesn’t move in the next three minutes, this kid has to die.
Most people don’t understand my work: They think murder is the hard
part.
In the beginning, maybe—when you’re fourteen years old, hiding under
a bed, breath loud, knuckles white on the steel, eyes hot with tomorrow’s
tears, footsteps approaching.
But even then the hard part wasn’t the destined dead; the hard part was
the living. They never follow the plan. The living always crowd forward,
treading on the heels of those fated to die, as if when they meet Death,
they’ll nod a greeting and pass on by.
My first time, it was a castle maid, coming to check on her worthless
lover I’d been sent to kill. He was leaving her; instead she joined him in
eternity. My first murder of an innocent.
Now it’s this kid.
What’s a kid doing out playing ball at this hour? Why’s he got to be
here?
From my perch I feel as if he’s a thousand paces away, tiny across the
chasm of experience, and I alone atop a cliff—though he’s merely on the
ground, and I on a rooftop across the alley.
He has a few rocks set out to show the width of the goal. As I watch, he
spins around an imaginary defender, bounces the ball once, then kicks it
against the compound’s wall.
ka-tunk, ka-tunk, ker-chunk
Over and over. He puts his hands up and makes a sound like a crowd
roaring its approval. Young kid, twelve maybe, all stupidity and big dreams.
Maybe he thinks he’s found his one way out of these slums.
~Remind you of anyone?~
I ignore the ka’kari speaking in my head. If it weren’t so helpful when it
wants to be, I’d throw the damned thing as far away from me as I could.
Twilight is a burning fuse, and soon the sun will explode merciless on
the horizon, revealing all I’ve done or left undone. But still I wait, hoping
I’ll find some third way.
ka-tunk, ka-tunk, ker-chunk
He’s just a kid.
But he’s not giving up his practicing.
Knowing what it may mean, am I really going to do this?
Yes, yes I am. She’s worth it. They deserve justice.
All right, that’s it. Morning’s coming. Time’s up for both of us.
I move, dropping silently from the roof into the deeper shadows of the
alley.
ka-tunk, ka-tunk, kerStreaking in from nowhere, I snag the ball out of the air. Left-handed, no
less. Maybe I missed my calling. I could’ve been a streetball great.
The kid’s jaw drops and his eyes go ridiculously wide at the sight of me.
It’s a bit satisfying, in that I-feel-proud-that-I-can-scare-children sort of
way. Is this one of those dark pleasures of power Count Drake tried to warn
me about? I haven’t dressed to impress.
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