We Men of Ash and Shadow (The Vanguard Chronicles, #1)

by H.L.Tinsley

There was a thin line between mercenary and soldier, and an even thinner one between mercenary and murderer. Legitimate killing was a complex business. Truth be told, he had never really been sure at what point one thing had become the other.

A decent criminal will know the streets like the back of his hand. He will know which corners lead to dead ends. He will know which tunnels mark the fastest escape routes and the quickest ways to get from one zone to another without being seen. A decent killer, however, will know a great deal more.

The streets were narrow. It gave the neighbourhood a stifling, suffocating atmosphere. The buildings all seemed to slope toward one another, creating an overhanging canopy of poorly constructed brick and tile. When it rained heavily it made it look as though the city were melting.

That alone was reason enough for the entire population to keep themselves in a near permanent state of intoxication. It was better than waking up sober and realising the truth. They were all inmates in a prison of their own creation.

Surrounded by death, Vanguard looked at Henriette and felt like she might be the only person he knew who was truly still alive.

Sometimes he would stand and watch the smog as it billowed across the skyline. The chimneys spitting ash from the foundries, great stacks peppering the horizon like sentries, guarding the secrets that the acrid clouds concealed below.

Men staggered in and out of the taverns, walking straight past the open doors of the church without second thought. They chose to worship at a different sort of altar.

The girl spent virtually all her time lying on her back yet she spooked at the proffering of an arm intended as little more than something to balance on.

Breaking news: sex workers can't be scared *eye roll*

"You could have said something, you know – defended my honour and all that." "Why is that my job? It's not like you haven't heard worse. Besides, we've got money now and you didn't need to bend over for it for once."

Gross wtf is wrong with this guy?

"Be careful what you show her. She will see the world through rose-tinted glass and throw herself into a pit of snakes thinking it’s a flower bed. Girls like her die outside these walls. I should hate to have to kill you." Warning issued, she bid him goodnight.

Love to see how protective Henriette is of her girls

There seemed to be a difference between being invisible and just being unnoticeable.

Vigilante justice was still justice of a sort.

When Tarryn had locked eyes with Vanguard in the alley, all he could think was how it felt exactly the way that it had felt when he looked into the broken mirror that day.

“They are the scum of the earth. I am their judgement...” He inhaled deeply. “...and you will be my executioner.”

Monsters were monsters no matter their gender.

For as long as he could remember, Vanguard had walked the thin line between monster and man. Now he would need to show someone else how to tread that same path.

The speed at which the unusual becomes usual will vary from person to person. It always depended largely on the history of those experiencing it.

“Will they take you back? If you get scarred, will that...place you came from take you back?” “That’s an odd thing to say.” “I didn’t mean it to be, I just thought it might affect things. You can’t sell an apple if it’s purple and bruised. Nobody wants it.” “I’m not an apple.”

It is an unfortunate truth of the world that people will always want to soil beautiful things. They cannot simply let them be. It is why there will always be footprints in the freshly fallen snow. Flowers will grow from the earth and somebody will always want to pluck off the petals.

Vanguard realised what the worst thing about dying was. It was not the pain. It was not the suffering. The worst thing about dying was the moment that you knew it was inevitable. When you felt it coming and thought of all the things you had never done. All the moments in life that you wished had been different.

Vanguard was not pain and torture, he was not suffering. Vanguard was the split second between life and death; the instant where you saw your life flash before your eyes and you knew, completely and definitively, that you deserved to be where you were right at that moment.

We are men of ash and shadow. We endure the darkness so that others might see the dawn.”

He had always found it strange. Slaughter thousands of people without cause and you were a murderer. Slaughter thousands by sending them to war and you were a strategist.