His posture was perfectly still.
His hands were covered in leather gloves and he had them folded on the table.
I put my view back on his face. It was very feminine and almost too perfect to be real. Had he worn his long hair down and put on a coat of lipstick, he could have easily passed as a woman.
A pretty killer. Interesting.
I monitored Kaede’s body language. The respect when he glanced at Kenji. The protective angle of his shoulders.
He’s loyal to Kenji. Absolutely, unquestionably loyal.
Then, he looked at me and his mouth tightened.
He doesn’t trust me. Interesting.
That's what his expression said.
Not hostility.
Just. . .withholding judgment.
Kaede placed that glass eye in better view as if he wanted me to truly see it.
Oh my.
The glass eye was exquisite. Elegant and definitely custom-made. A crystal-clear iris with a sapphire pupil and gilded rim. Beneath the surface, threads of gold and mother-of-pearl shimmered.
The eye alone could have been showcased in the Louvre.
However, the glass eye also made me wonder what violence had taken the real one. A blade? A bullet? Torture? And when? How young had he been when someone tried to end him and failed?
Kaede showing off his glass eye to me. . .I'd witnessed this move before. Caleb Ward had done the same thing with his limp, playing up the injury to seem non-threatening before he struck.
But Kaede wasn't trying to appear harmless. He was doing the opposite—showing me his scar like a resume. A reminder that he'd survived something that should have killed him. A warning that underestimating him was fatal.
Hmmm. I still don’t think he’s the spy. Just pretty, clever, and probably very fucking lethal.
Reo went to the next Claw. “This is Daisuke. He is Hiro’s Shadow specialist.”
I didn’t know what a Shadow specialist was, but I bet it dealt with hiding in the darkness and observing. It made sense if that was true because Daisuke wore charcoal gray and was nearly invisible despite sitting right there.
How is he doing that? Blending into the setting like a chameleon. This is fascinating.
Daisuke had a black mohawk that cut a sharp ridge over his head. His eyes were still along with the rest of his body. He ignored me and put his view on Kenji as if waiting for the Dragon to let him know when he needed him.
He’s. . .protective of Kenji.
I could see that immediately.
But toward me?
Uncertainty.
He’s thinking. . .why is she in here? We don't know her. Can she be trusted?
Like the other Claw, he said nothing to me.
Just watched.
