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Page 226
''My mom and dad. How they died. What they'd think of me now."
"What do you mean what they'd think of you? What have you done?"
Cyrus laughed bitterly. "Nothing much. I murdered three men in Seattle. I beat the crap out of two men in Calgary and scared the shit out of two more in Banff. I don't much count the rest, they were dead already."
"That's a crock and you know it. Dessotti and his men, it was them or us. If you hadn't reacted we would both be history now."
"Not unless one of 'em had a fucking broadsword."
"Did you know that at the time?"
"Well . . . no. But it wouldn't have made any difference. They were scum. I could smell it on them like cheap after-shave."
"So you rid the world of three cockroaches. Somebody ought to give you a medal."
"Yeah, right." He sighed.
The traffic was thinning and Kyna relaxed a bit, slowing the Lincoln to just under eighty. "Come on, out with it. What's bothering you?"
"Old lessons die hard, I guess. In spite of everything that's happened, I wasn't raised by wolves. I was taught that all life is precious and that God will forgive almost anything. But taking another life . . . I just don't know."
"Would you be happier if we were dead?"
Cyrus hung his head. "Of course not. I could never let anything happen to you. It's just . . . I didn't realize how much the talks I used to have with my dad had gotten to me."
"What do you think? Because you turn into a wolf, you can't go to church or wherever it is you go?"
Cyrus couldn't help laughing. "Yes, I go to church. At least I used to."
"So what is it?"
"Okay. Since you asked. What's the first thing that every-

 
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