We’re all just stories.
That has always been my philosophy. We’re made up of stories and experiences, and writers are just the ones who come hardwired to get that out. Storytellers pass on our lives to the next and the next. They determine who we will be, show us who we were, and inspire us to be better.
They were the assassins. Now, they’re the targets.
Who are the Brotherhood?
Killers, to put it simply, but they are also more than that. Adame Sorcha isn’t human, and he isn’t evil. He’s done what he must to survive, and, now, he’s doing what he must so Mal Renata can survive.
Adame lifted a hand from his crossed arms. “Ms. Renata,” he said to Cari. “Killing you was never an option. You are a well known face, nearly a celebrity. It would have been sloppy.”
Brother Mine by Jolie Mason
Mal squawked in a similar manner to her sister at that. “Am I to understand that killing me wasn’t off the table?” She was offended. There was a deep and abiding insult in being dispensable.