“What pill...?” A memory of a tin case and an oversized glossy silver pill filled my mind. “Oh no...” I shook my head. “I didn’t.”
“Do you have it with you?”
“It’s on the bedside cabinet in—”
“Forget it.” Opening the top drawer, Lucien yanked out my rucksack.
“Hey.” My eyes popped wide. “You have my bag—”
“Catch.” He threw it to me.
I caught it as he strode to the door.
“Come along,” he barked.
“Where are we going?” I slung the familiar tatty strap onto my shoulder, tucking the vial of blood into the small side pocket.
“To kill someone.”
My feet tripped over one another. “Eh...shouldn’t you be going to bed? You need to sleep like you always do after an afternoon in here.”
“I can rest later.”
“Murder is that important to you?”
He looked at me as he yanked open the door and prowled down the corridor. “I thought you’d learned by now that murder is my favourite pastime.”
I shuddered as Whisper appeared from wherever he’d been, attaching himself to Lucien.
I chased after both of them, my nose wrinkling. I really,reallydidn’t like his energy. Didn’t like the overall tension or that Whisper kept flicking looks between us as if he sensed it too.
Why had Lucien given me back my things?
Who was he going to kill?
Hadn’t he already gotten rid of the assassins?
I really didn’t want to watch another woman die today.
Besides, it was daylight.
He was a creature of routine.
He should be returning to his window seat and a good book if he wasn’t going to bed.
Yet none of this made any sense.
Was it my fault?
Had I disturbed him that much by coming on his hand and then giving him the same release?
Because...that wasn’t entirely my fault.
It’d taken two to play—
Did he regret it?
Did he hate me for overstepping, and I’d destroyed whatever peace he’d found?
