“It might not even be the Ministry this time,” Ishmael declared, thinking of Galina’s forced departure from her home. “The rest of the caverns could decide to throw you out first, and save themselves the scrutiny.” He kept his tone offhand, still, but there was a note of warning in it. She still hadn’t mentioned the girl in the newspaper - still had not admitted to being the killer - but there was little need, the way she was talking. They both knew she was responsible.
And he was not responsible for her, Ishmael told himself again; a mental rallying cry to combat the compounded feeling, the creeping sense, that maybe he was, maybe he should have been, maybe he had always been to blame.
“And darling, I know I can be very persuasive,” Ishmael said smoothly, “but even I won’t be able to change their minds if you can’t convince me that you’re not more trouble than it’s worth. We both know Miss Whatshername wasn’t the first little mess you’ve made.” (And what was the use in trying to persuade anyone to protect Azazel, or merely leave her alone, if they were going to be back down this road in the blink of an eye with the next badly-buried body?)
What he deliberately didn't add, though it was just as pertinent, was that if it came down to violence - as responsible as he felt, as damnably fond as he was - there was no way in hell he was taking a stake for Azazel. (Not so gallant as she had thought him when she was a girl, he knew. It would be a pity to ruin the delusion.)
And he was not responsible for her, Ishmael told himself again; a mental rallying cry to combat the compounded feeling, the creeping sense, that maybe he was, maybe he should have been, maybe he had always been to blame.
“And darling, I know I can be very persuasive,” Ishmael said smoothly, “but even I won’t be able to change their minds if you can’t convince me that you’re not more trouble than it’s worth. We both know Miss Whatshername wasn’t the first little mess you’ve made.” (And what was the use in trying to persuade anyone to protect Azazel, or merely leave her alone, if they were going to be back down this road in the blink of an eye with the next badly-buried body?)
What he deliberately didn't add, though it was just as pertinent, was that if it came down to violence - as responsible as he felt, as damnably fond as he was - there was no way in hell he was taking a stake for Azazel. (Not so gallant as she had thought him when she was a girl, he knew. It would be a pity to ruin the delusion.)
