She relinquished the file as Kennedy's hands slid over hers, removing it. Grace couldn't help but wonder who these people were that they had replaced. People who ran a clandestine murder-for-hire business behind the front of a New York hot spot. It seemed...risky. To mix a high profile with a low one. But then again, she knew almost nothing about any of this. She was just a witch. A witch who'd been locating slayers for a little while and then had been tracking down the supposed father of vampirism itself in order to avert the apocalypse being sold on the black market.
I wasn't a killer.
Together, we poured over this guy's file and Kennedy wasn't wrong. Marcus Jamison was pretty evil as far as humans went. But she still couldn't seem to justify it in her head. They knew next to nothing about the organization that was handing them orders and expecting them to end lives, the same organization that would kill them if they didn't comply, so they definitely didn't know why they wanted this guy dead. She somehow had a feeling it wasn't because he was such a bad guy and they wanted to rid the world of them. No, Grace was pretty sure it was probably because this guy owed them money, or knew something he shouldn't, or had just messed with the wrong person.
Now he had to die. Criminal record or not. Would there always be a criminal record? What would her girlfriend use to assuage her guilt, her apprehension, when it came to files that were considerably thinner and didn't contain any reasons someone "deserved" to die?
"I don't know." Grace finally said, closing the folder and pushing it away from both of them, back across the table. "We're not God. We don't just get to decide who lives or dies." There was a subtle tone of surrender in her voice. She knew that they weren't deciding. Someone else was deciding for them, and they were just the messengers.