steady herself, messing up the stacks of folders. I look her right in the eyes. “These men are predators, Mina.” She meets my gaze, unyielding. “So are you.” She’s right; I am. I enjoyed every second: their screams, their blood, the life draining from their eyes. She’s still afraid of me, and she should be. I belong in a cage. “I mean, you’re plotting their deaths,” Mina says. “Hunting them. It’s…” She trails off, but I can guess what she’s about to say. Sick, twisted, appalling. Evil. “It’s brilliant.”
