He pauses then, studying me. “How would you have done it?” His question surprises me. “You mean how would I have killed you?”“Yes. Do you have a favorite method for such things?” Since he knows I am an assassin, there is no need to be coy. “I prefer a garrote. I like the intimacy it allows me when I whisper reminders of vengeance in their ears as they die. But in your case, I had sharpened my favorite knife especially for the occasion.” His brows quirk up. “Why no garrote for me?” I look pointedly at his thick neck, bulging with muscle and sinew. “I do not have one big enough,” I mutter.