“It won’t be,” I disagree. “They know I’d never shirk them for something as dumb as sex. That’ll make them more suspicious.”
“Are they trustworthy?”
“Yes. Not with everyone—Cara likes gossip—but they’d never share something I told them in confidence. We’re loyal to each other, to the grave.”
“I’ll check up on that. If it tracks, you can tell them you saw something you shouldn’t have and I’m keeping you close for a while to make sure you’re not a threat. I’ll talk to the other guys about it in the morning.”
Surprised, I gaze at him with a frown. “You’ll let me… tell them the truth? Aren’t you worried they’ll tell someone?”
“Not if they want to keep you safe, which is a point you’ll stress to them,” Dorian replies. “I’m not going to hurt you; no one here’s going to hurt you. This is just a precaution. Make sure they know that saying anything would only put you in hot water, which you’re already trying to clamber out of.” He shrugs. “Sometimes a partial truth is better than a complete lie.”
“Oh. Okay,” I say dumbly, absently stroking Credence’s belly.
“I’m gonna go into that room for a bit,” Dorian says, nodding to a closed wooden door not far from the edge of the huge TV. “Stay here. If you leave or try to run, I’ll know, and we’ll have problems.”
“I won’t leave or run, there’s a very cute cat in my lap,” I tell him. “I’m just going to chill here. What time is it?”
Dorian pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking the screen. He winces. “2 a.m. I’ll be quick, then we can go to bed.”
I glance around the basement. “Can I sleep here? That couch looks comfortable.”
“Nope,” he responds. “Stay put, Mira.” He turns and walks toward the door, opening it. I catch a glimpse of a desk with four computer monitors and a bunch of computer boxes. Looks like someone here’s very technologically adept. He enters the room, leaving the door cracked so he can still see me. I return my attention to Credence, cooing as I stroke her.
After a few minutes of bathing in pets, the mewling of kittens grows louder. Credence meows at me, then pads back to her box. She leaps into it, and a moment later she jumps back out, holding a kitten by the scruff. I press my hands to my chest, melting at the sight. She carefully sets her kitten in front of me. The kit blinks up at me with big blue eyes, considering me for a moment, then awkwardly climbs onto my lap, meowing.
“Oh my goodness,” I murmur. “I think I just fell in love with you.” I stroke my hand over the kitten’s fur as Credence goes back to the box and brings me another kitten. And then another, and another, again and again until I have eight kits climbing over themselves, kneading me, batting at my hair, and meowing adorably.
“Do they have names?” I call out to Dorian.
“Nope,” he calls back.
I pout. “That’s not cool. They’re over a month old, they should have names.”
“So give them names,” comes a reply, only it doesn’t originate from Dorian. I glance over my shoulder, eyes narrowing as I spot Seamusstanding at the bottom of the stairs, leaning against the wall with a casual smile. “Hallo, love,” he greets.
“Hello, Brit,” I reply, echoing my own greeting from earlier tonight. Once again, a sense of danger strikes me in the chest. Seamus is too relaxed, too easy going, and his smilereaches his eyes, yet quiet menace rolls off him in palpable waves. I don’t think he means me harm right now, but I suspect that could change in a heartbeat.
“You seem to be getting on with our furry friends,” he observes.
“They are very cute,” I agree. “I’m glad Credence likes me. I’m surprised you guys allow a kitten litter in your House of Horrors.”
“House of Horrors, hmm?” Seamus says, stepping forward. He watches as Credence rolls to her belly in front of me and meows, requesting more attention. With her kittens hanging from my shirt, perched on my shoulders, and even climbing up my back, I pet the one on my lap with one hand while reaching forward to stroke her with the other.
“We’re not monsters,” Seamus says calmly, coming to a stop by the couch. He leans against the arm of it, watching me bathe in the attention of all these adorable felines.
I give him a knowing glance. “Aren’t you?”
“I suppose it depends on who you ask,” he replies lightly. “To those who stay on our good side, we certainly aren’t. Those who oppose us? They’d probably be the first to call us monsters.” He releases a breath of laughter. “The ones who are still alive, that is.”
“Seamus, get the fuck out of here,” Dorian calls from the tech room.
I feel my lips thin at the subtle threat. “I’m not going to oppose you—any of you. I don’t even want tobehere.”
“I know you won’t go against us,” Seamus agrees. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you, love?”
I feel like there’s a double-meaning behind his words. “I guess,” I mutter. “I’m certainly not astupidgirl, and I’m not keen on getting killed.”
“Seamus, get thefuckout,” Dorian repeats, harsher. “I’ve got this under control.”
