"Miss Morgan?" someone asks.

"Yes, Delila?" I ask the receptionist without looking up.

"You have a visitor!" she says, and her excitement tells me that my visitor is male, and doubtlessly gorgeous.

But when I look up, he's not gorgeous. At least, he's not gorgeous in my eyes. I'm more than a bit biased.

"Eagle." I smile icily. So the man who killed my mother decided to come and visit, I think to myself. How sweet of him.

"Jag," he drawls, and his voice is smug.

I want to kill him. Damnit, this man deserves to die! Hundreds, even thousands, of people had died at this man's hand! Why should he live to enjoy his life when he'd killed so many innocent people?

I knew it wouldn't be safe to go after him. Not now, not ever. He was very much my equal.

To hell with it all, I think to myself. He dies tonight.