“That’s exactly why I don’t use them often,” I chug down my whiskey, closing my eyes tight against the burn that travels all the way to my stomach, before slamming the glass onto the table. “And if this is going to be the reception I won’t use them ever again. Were you able to get to the witnesses?”
“Yeah, yeah.” There’s that sound of water again on Dahlia’s side. “Some of my men were able to get there as the police were taking statements, but of the six people that were trapped in the store, none of them saw your faces or got a good look at the shooters. You handled this one on your own pretty well.”
… Six?
That doesn’t add up. My heart immediately picks up a strange rhythm inmy chest, “Dahlia, there were eight people in that store.”
There’s a pause through the line and I can imagine the look on her face right now, the crease of her brows, that shine in her eyes when she’s replaying her memories in her head, “No… There were six witnesses taking statements.”
“No,” I correct her with the same tone, “there were two kids, a boy and a girl who saw mine and Christian’s faces. They were between us and the attackers when the place lit up. Were they still at the scene when the police came?”
Again silence. And my heart is kicking it up a notch when I remember looking back at Christian inside the store, when he was dousing himself with water.
By then the two kids were long gone.
And it’s not trepidation pulsing beneath my skin. It’s excitement.
“Christian let them get away,” I say what I’m thinking, unable to wipe the smile off my face or stop the new energy that’s making me rock back and forth on my toes.
“Who’s Christian?” Aster speaks up from sipping his whiskey.
“The traitor-killer I kidnapped from Dahlia’s place and brought back with me,” I answer honestly and Aster’s brows draw together quizzically.
For good reason though, because I didn’t tell him shit about Christian.
“I want him to join my team.” Nothing he can do about it now anyway. “I think Xavier should be showing him to his room now.”
“You’re saying Christian let the kids go?” Dahlia’s tone is dripping with disbelief. “Why?”
I tilt my head to one side thoughtfully, “He has a soft spot for kids.”
Dahlia scoffs immediately, “Christian? Soft spot? I’ve never seen him interact long enough with a child in my life.”
That’s interesting.
Aster places his glass down on the counter with a contemplative look, “… He was trying to protect them.”
Interesting.
“It looks like you’ll have to cut your bath short,prima,” I place my empty glass on the table with a grim expression. “Sounds like you’ve still got witnesses to find.”
Chapter 5
‘Christian’
Sleeping as a human is uncomfortable.
After being a cat for 571 days, the smallest things are hard to get used to. The lights are sometimes too bright, I constantly feel stiff, and the sheets are soft but it…
It doesn’t smell like Christian.
It’s foreign and cold.
So every day since I arrived, I’ve taken to shifting into a cat and sleeping under the bed until dawn.
With the early morning light now filtering through the room, I stretch and yawn before padding out from under the large bed and shifting back into Christian’s body.
It’s been twelve days since the death of the Adler Squad, and still no sign of this Aster fellow I’m supposed to meet. Every time I ask about him, Reuben just tilts his head and tells me not to worry—that he’ll initiate me soon—but the more time passes, the more nervous I’m becoming.
