a contract in our world and you know it. She’ll take exception if you turn chicken now.”
I curled my lip at him.
I’d show him a fucking chicken—he’d squawk like one after I rammed my sword up his ass.
But I wasn’t going to back out. After all, he was right; I’d taken the money. And it was about that, right? I could try to pretend. After all, I like money. I didn’t get lots of it often and when I did, I got through it too easily. I was finally getting better at budgeting, but man, fifty thousand? I could splurge. A little.
Yet even as I tried to pretend, I knew better. I had a soft spot, all right. A weakness. And it was most definitely for cases that involved kids.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that boy’s face.
I was sunk. Completely.
“You ever going to tell me your name?” I asked, trailing along after him, eying his muscled back, those wide shoulders. In the back of my mind, some part of me thought: Pretty…
And I immediately wanted to punch myself. He was a damned cat. He still hadn’t confirmed or denied, but I knew a cat when I saw one. And regardless, he was a shifter, he was somehow connected to the crazy cat clan and that meant hell, no. Even if he was hotter than hell.
“I guess I should tell you my name, since I’ll be keeping you company for a while…” He smiled as we came to a halt inside a round room—it was draped with swaths of pink silk.
I felt like I’d fallen into a piece of bubble gum.
“And that name is…?”
“Damon.”
“Demon? That’s fitting.” I smirked at him and flopped onto a chair. I put my blade on the couch next to me and drew my knee to my chest, ignoring the pointed look he gave the sword.
“You don’t need that,” he said flatly.
“I do.” I touched it and smiled as the runes danced at my touch. My mother’s sword. It wasn’t as strong in my hands as it had been in hers—after all, I was half-human, but it was still powerful. And mine. I felt better just for touching it.
My mother’s sword. And she knew me.
“She isn’t going to like some trained killer sitting in her private quarters with a silver sword,” he said. His brows dropped low of those odd eyes of his and he came off the couch, prowling closer. “How did you get it in here, anyway? I saw you lock it up.”
I smiled. “We trained killers have our tricks.”
And my sword was one of mine…she had been my mother’s sword. She would be there when I needed her, or if I thought I might. An aneira warrior wouldn’t be easily parted from her blade.
“Put it away,” he ordered. “Now.”
I closed my hand around the grip. “No.”
The last time I’d gone into the lair of one of the damned Alphas, I almost hadn’t made it out alive. If he thought I’d go into this one willingly and unarmed, he was out of his pretty skull.
The door opened.
Damon spun around and immediately bowed his head.
I remained where I was. As far as they were concerned, I was just a human—well, they did see me as a trained killer. At least they acknowledged that, but I wasn’t a shifter, and by the Assembly charter, I wasn’t required to follow their stupid laws. Nor would I. As long as I didn’t attack her, I was allowed to carry whatever fucking weapons I wanted.
So I stayed were I was, sword in my lap, and watched the lady of the cats came into the room.
She was…unexpected.
Yes. Very unexpected. Diminutive and pale, her hair nearly as blonde as mine. Thick black lashes hid her eyes and her mouth was about as pink as it could possibly get and still be natural. Either she had a damn good hand with makeup or God had just been too kind. She was slender—small waist, petite, but well-enough endowed that I had to wonder if she didn’t use her ability to change shape to alter hers in other ways. Some of the stronger ones could do things like that for short periods of time. The Alpha definitely could do something like that.
Pretty as a doll, I decided. And probably every bit as vapid. I couldn’t even get a read on whatever animal she was, although I knew she was cat. There was just…nothing there.