“Where do you keep your knife in an outfit like that?” Galen asked, crunching into a slice of toast.
Rae frowned. “Where do you think I keep it?”
Galen swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbling as his eyes dipped between her legs.
“It’s not a fucking purse,” Winter snorted.
Nix flipped his pocketknife, his tone bored. “Everything’s a purse if you try hard enough.”
Rae pointed at the both of them. “You see, this is why you’re both single.”
Galen scowled, and Winter laughed. “You got a backup plan, Rae?” she asked.
“You mean other than to run and hide before you guys come hunt me down like a rabid dog?”
“I’ll give you a head start,” Nix said, shrugging when they all turned to face him. “It was a joke.” Except his face remained passive, not an ounce of emotion passing across his sharp features.
“Wewon’t hunt you,” Winter said, glaring at Nix with irises made of lavender. “But you know the rules.”
Fail a target, and void the assignment.
Her life would be forfeit, which was ironic considering it was the reason she’d become a contractor in the first place.
Winter bent to grab something from a lower cupboard, and Nix’s eyes immediately dropped to her butt, moving quickly away when she straightened. “Stay safe,” she said, handing Galen the jar of chocolate spread. “We’re here for you.”
Rae smiled, knowing she’d need every piece of luck she could muster to complete her job in time. “Thanks, I’ll make sure to invite you all to my funeral.” She lifted a hand in farewell.
The Guild was situated not far from where she grew up, outside the house a derelict street with potholes, broken lights, and more graffiti than the local governing body cared to paint over. It was a forgotten part of the city, the human side of which was growing smaller and smaller every year. Breed seemed to accumulate together, and London was one of the most multi-specied places in the world. People underestimated her because of what she wasn’t, which was something she liked to use to her advantage.
Vivian had bought the entire run-down building years before she’d taken Rae on, only renovating one floor, on which they all lived. The eight floors below, and three above, she’d gutted entirely, leaving nothing but the frames needed to keep the structure stable. There was a single lift, controlled by Vivian alone, and a set of stairs. The floor she’d renovated was split into sections, with each contractor having their own, small room, and bathroom. A communal area which they shared, and her office/living quarters. It wasn’t much, but it was more homely than where she’d been before. Even if she had to share it with people like Nathan.
Walking into her bedroom, Rae dropped to her knees and moved the old rug that covered the space directly beside her bed. Making sure her door was still closed, she pried open the floorboard, blindly reaching into the dark hole hidden beneath. Her fingers brushed the crushed velvet box, one of two things remaining of her previous life. Pulling it out, she took a second to stroke across the soft surface, tracing her name in gold thread along the lid. It had been a gift from her mother, the last gift she’d ever received from her. Unable to stop herself, Rae grasped the pendant at her throat, the familiar, cool texture making her feel at ease. The necklace had been hidden inside the music box, along with a note that Rae hadn’t discovered untilafter.
Dropping her hand before certain memories could resurface, she opened the lid. Ignoring the little ballerina spinning, the music no more than a broken whine, she lifted the hidden compartment to find… nothing. The space empty, the velvet worn.
Her charms, the ones she’d spent all her allowance on, were gone. Not even the note remained that she carefully kept folded at the bottom.
“Killian!” she shouted loud enough for the entire floor to hear. “Bastion!”Those fucking twins.She locked her bedroom every time she left, but the wolves were experts at breaking in to places they shouldn’t, and would have likely done it for the shits and giggles. “Have you been in my room?”
Her charms had been there only hours before, she knew because she’d checked. Counted. She couldn’t deal with the loss of the note, not yet. Later, when she had the time, she’d allow herself to cry, but not until she was in a safer space. Without judgment and prying eyes.
Closing the music box gently despite the irritation, Rae placed it back beneath the floorboard and rug before jumping up and opening her bedroom door with more effort than needed.
“I swear to fucking God,” she continued to scream. “If I find you’ve been –”
“Killian and Bastion aren’t here,” Vivian said, her brown eyes taking in her unmade bed, the pile of notes on the floor, and clothes thrown on the dresser in one, quick sweep. Anger bracketed her mouth, and Rae snapped hers shut. “You have less than three days before the forfeit comes into play.”
“I know, I’m working on –”
“Sort it.” The words came out cold, clipped. “You’re making us look bad. If the client finds out…” Vivian let the threat taper off, her long nose reminding Rae more of a rat, than a witch. She wore her usual suit, slim fitted and in a light grey that matched her neatly coifed hair. Pearls completed her ensemble, tight around her throat with a single crystal hanging in the centre.
Rae bit her tongue, waiting for Vivian to walk away in a gust of fresh rain, and expensive perfume before she grabbed her new gun from the dresser. Hiding it beneath her black denim jacket, because it was illegal to carry for pretty much everyone under British rules. It was why she preferred her dagger, the beautiful blade nestled neatly against her thigh.
She closed and locked her bedroom tight, her anger not dampening in her way down in the lift, the old metal thing whining the whole descent, nor when she found her crappy car in its usual spot on the ground floor, the boot closed using duct tape and sheer force.
She had fifty hours to figure everything out, but first she still needed to find the ghost.
Titus-fucking-Liu Wood.
