Fifteen
Murdoch rubbed his hands together, and he beamed. “I think that went pretty well.”
“It was a slaughter.”
The only good thing about what Ryann had just witnessed was its brevity, but that did little to make up for the sickening violence. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk, her knuckles white. She closed her eyes, trying to stop the shaking.
“It was quick and effective.” He raised an eyebrow. “I thought you’d appreciate a lack of suffering, even in those things you call shades?”
“I don’t appreciate unnecessary violence.”
“Unnecessary? But how else were we to take back Haven? I don’t recall you negotiating when you were so desperate to escape.”
Of course she hadn’t. The shades didn’t listen to reason. They were mindless. No, that wasn’t quite right. They had minds, but they
