Gem wrinkled her nose. “Or vomit. Put him in a storage room.”
Shepherd kept moving, leaving them to their chatter as they headed downstairs. He didn’t mind hanging out with the group occasionally even though he wasn’t much of a talker. Drinks or a game of darts was more his speed. Having Hunter around forced him to be social, but not much. Shepherd was too set in his ways. He liked working out, meditating, sharpening his knives, and playing jokes on Wyatt. His partner drove him batshit crazy sometimes, but Wyatt was smart, easygoing, and didn’t hold a grudge.
Usually.
When Shepherd first partnered with him and found out his fear was butterflies, he had a guy deliver a large box of them. Once Wyatt went to sleep, he snuck into his bedroom and released them. Shepherd sat in the hall all night, waiting to see what would happen. The next morning, Wyatt woke up shrieking. After that, Shepherd was careful not to reveal his fear of rats, worried that Wyatt would seek out revenge. But Wyatt had grown up with nine older sisters. Nine. Maybe that had something to do with Wyatt never fixating on upping his revenge. He picked his moments, like bringing everyone except Shepherd take-out food. Or the time he’d reinstalled Shepherd’s pull-up bar in the gym to be an inch higher than he could reach.
Shepherd never got pissed at the pranks because Spooky was a good guy. Yet despite his upbeat attitude, Wyatt had painful trauma buried deep down. Shepherd knew his entire family was dead but not much else. He’d gotten mixed up with the wrong people, ruined his reputation, lost his home and probably his woman. A person didn’t tattooLost Soulon their body unless it meant something.
When he entered Wyatt’s office, he flipped on the wall switch. The red floor lamp behind the L-shaped sofa blinked on. Shepherd dropped Wyatt onto the couch and then stretched out the kink in his back muscle. A bright-blue pillow tumbled to the floor, so he picked it up and tucked it under Wyatt’s head. Spooky was a night owl and would probably be up in a few hours anyhow.
“You are one sad-looking bastard,” he said, hands on his hips.
Wyatt was still shirtless and barefoot, and the skull belt buckle had left a red mark on his stomach. His black cowboy boots were still in the van along with his dignity. Wyatt rolled onto his left side and clutched a bright-yellow pillow. “I am an edacious eater.”
Wyatt sometimes picked a random word from his crossword puzzles as his word of the day. He’d already used it in conversation twice.
Shepherd turned away. “Sleep tight. Don’t let the dead people bite.”
“Not funny,” Wyatt mumbled before snorting on a long inhale. “I met a girl. She’smuy bonita. You’re a good guy, Shep. My feet are cold,” he went on, rambling incoherently.
Shepherd headed downstairs and noticed Viktor on the phone in the study. That was where he held most of his private business calls. Hopefully he had a job lined up. They had all put their asses on the line to save those rich assholes and all of Cognito from Godfrey Sparrow, and not one of them got paid a red cent. They’d done what they’d had to do, but only money put food on the table. And for Shepherd, a paying job meant securing Hunter’s future.
When Shepherd checked in on Hunter, who was fast asleep in his bed, he hoped like hell that the kid didn’t turn out like him. Maybe instead, he’d do Relic work using his inherent knowledge of human genetics. There were jobs to be had in the medical field, and Hunter didn’t necessarily have to work in the Breed world. He could work in the human world and change his identity when he outlived the one he was in. It was a hell of a lot safer than working for a group like Keystone. No, he wouldn’t wish this life on his son. This was a job for people who had reached the end of their rope.
On his way to the medical room, he bumped into Viktor.
“Have Raven and Christian returned?”
Shepherd shrugged. “Haven’t seen ’em.”
“I need to speak to them. This will involve some of you but not all. Very, very important.”
“Let me know if you need anything. I’m gonna be in the medical room going over inventory.”
Viktor seemed anxious or excited about something. Had Viktor touched anything, Shepherd might have been tempted to lift his emotions to see what was up.
Kira’s door was ajar. She slept close by his medical room on the other side of the hall. Curious, he walked up and peered inside.
He should have looked away. It wasn’t right to invade a woman’s privacy. Shepherd felt protective of women and didn’t like the way men ogled them or made sexual innuendos. But it wasn’t her nudity that held his attention; it was the long tattoo down her back.
Candlelight glowed against her creamy skin, which was peppered with tiny moles and freckles. Wearing only a pair of panties, she lifted a white gown over her head and slipped it on. He turned away, his back to the wall as the image of her tattoo seared into his mind. The symbols traveled from her nape to her lower spine. Kira always dressed modestly, wearing frocks and shawls that covered her body. From what Viktor said, she had never lived in the modern world, so she knew nothing of fashion. Sometimes she wore black eyeliner that made her eyes pretty, though Gem must have lent her the makeup for fun. Other than that, Kira didn’t partake in superficial rituals.
When she briskly walked out of the room and noticed Shepherd pinned against the wall, she clutched her chest and hopped back a step.
He felt the shame of having spied on her. “Didn’t mean to scare you. But you’ve been dodging me for weeks. How long are you gonna go on pretending you can’t understand me?”
She touched her loose braid, which draped over her right shoulder.
“Christian’s gone right now, so he can’t hear us. Come with me. I have questions.” Shepherd escorted her down a long hall that went around the courtyard.
Kira followed him, her bare feet padding across the floor.
When he reached a soundproof room, he went right to the fireplace and put wood on the grate. While he got the kindling going and opened the flue, Kira closed the door and lit candles with a match. Two emerald-green love seats flanked a round coffee table in front of the fireplace. There were dozens of rooms like this, lightly furnished for private conversations. The fire took the chill out of the air. After he set the mesh screen in front of the firebox, he gestured for Kira to sit.
Without a word, she lowered herself onto one love seat, her hands tucked beneath her legs. She frowned at the gold carpet beneath their feet.
Shepherd sat on the sofa across from her. “Don’t even think about cleaning these empty rooms. You got enough work to do.”
