I turn around to search for Kill, wondering why he’s not helping me. I find him hiding behind his hand, and—“Are you fucking laughing?” Killian waves his hands up in surrender. “Wow, hey, this wasn’t my idea, but—” He shrugs, casting a look between The Four Fathers of Fuckwits and my personal Fuckwit that’s bleeding out on the ground. “—a blood oath is a blood oath. He had to do it.”
