“A warhammer? That doesn’t even make sense.”
Drew: That doesn’t even make sense.
“Shit.”
Before I could formulate a reply to Booker, she was on me. She swung the hammer, and as I ducked, she wrapped the whip around my neck. I was going to need tea with honey tonight if I’d be any use at work tomorrow.
My elbow connected with her sternum. Reaching over my shoulder, I grabbed her head and bent forward. As she flipped through the air, I reached out. The magnet flared, and my baton skidded along the pavement and snapped into my palm. Her feet touched down, and I swung the baton upward, smashing it under her jaw. Teeth flew. Inside, I cheered.
Booker: I think we got off on the wrong foot.
Drew: No. Right foot. I was talking to the store clerk.
Booker: Late hour for shopping produce.
Drew: Munchies. Chips are my kryptonite.
“What the hell?” Assassin lady spat blood on the sidewalk. “Are you on the phone?”
“Voice to text.”
Elaborating didn’t diminish her anger. She tried swinging the warhammer, but this close, I grabbed herwrist and stopped the blow. With the heel of my foot, I kicked at her knee, the bone breaking. I commended her for not screaming. She panicked, trying to scratch my face. I spun about and hurled her at the tree.
Booker: Gummy bears for me.
I must have looked like a sociopath as I stood over her limp body with a smile stretched across my face. Not my finest moment, and I’d feel like roadkill tomorrow, but I had cleaned up the streets, stayed alive, and discovered this handsome man loved tiny chewy bears.
“Meow.” A cat jumped from the lowest branch into my arms.
“Great.” Orange with white stripes. I imagined it wasn’t much different from Booker’s chest hair. I had defeated two members of an assassin’s guild, and yet my night hadn’t come to an end.
“Let’s go find your human.”
4
Thirteen interviews,and we had barely dented the manifest.
“Have you ever stolen Synergy property?”
Through the glass, I watched as Booker continued the performance. He maintained the same neutral, unassuming tone. Despite the fatigue of asking the same set of questions every half hour, it didn’t relent. I had been impressed with how he didn’t react when an employee tripped over their words during the questioning. Now, I couldn’t help but admire the consistency.
“Why would you ask that? No. Never.”
He’d wait exactly twelve seconds. Few lasted that long.
“I took a ream of paper.” The employee looked like the others—white dress shirt, bold tie, but nevertoobold. Bright blue with a checkered pattern did just enough togive him a personality. Like every other employee, I didn’t think he had done anything that warranted intervention.
“Pens. Okay, maybe an office chair.”
Under Booker’s steady gaze, they all cracked. I could have threatened to break kneecaps and fingers and not get the same results. If Booker held his silence long enough, they’d start talking about crimes they committed while in grade school. Whatever the government paid him, they needed to double it.
I left the window. The small observing room had a desk and two chairs. It had become our unofficial office. There were stacks of boxes given to us by Ms. Keyes. She didn’t just comply; she went above and beyond to help us find any wrongdoers. Every box had been color-coded by threat level and included an executive summary with possible culprits. At this point, none had pinged our radar.
I sat at the desk, eyeing the paperwork. In the back of my head, Orion laughed. He claimed to be allergic to paper and would have faked a coughing fit to get away from it. If he couldn’t read it on a screen, it didn’t exist. I had to wonder whether, if I brought Connor over to scan through all the documents, his artificial intelligence would see patterns we missed. I could make the call, but it’d hasten the conclusion of our investigation. Right now, I appreciated the distraction.
Booker opened the door.
I appreciated one distraction more than the others.
