Bounty (Kaliya Sahni #1) - K.N. Banet Page 0,35

of the display cases and take a weapon. I have something from everywhere and know how to use all of them.”

“Are you showing off or warning me?” he asked with a low growl in the mix.

“Both,” I answered, unperturbed by him. “And trying to help you. If you’re interested in something, maybe I can show you some things.”

“No, thanks. I’m not fond of killing things,” he answered.

“That’s…going to need to change,” I muttered, keeping my pace. “Okay, so there’s two bedrooms and two offices. One office you can use as you please. It will automatically log you in as a guest since you can’t match my biometrics. The other office is and will remain off limits to you indefinitely. You can’t get in it without me anyway, so don’t try; it’ll set off the alarm system. If there’s an emergency, you’ll come to my room.”

“Excuse me?” That seemed to insult him.

“I have a safe room in my private bathroom,” I explained.

“Why?” There was worry and curiosity in the question.

“Because people try to kill me,” I answered blandly. “Don’t worry. There’s only been one who’s made it here, and he’s been very, very dead since that night. Most attack me at my condo in the city. It’s less secure.”

“You have a dangerous job if people are trying to kill you so often that you need a safe room. Maybe you should get a new one.”

“I have a dangerous life, and my job has nothing to do with it,” I said, pointing to a door, hoping to get him off the topic. “That’s your room.” I pointed to the door next to it. “That’s my room. Really easy. Just come into my room if the alarms start going off. Or if I tell you to. Don’t argue, don’t try to fight.”

“You saw how strong I am—”

“I don’t know if you can recover from a cut throat or a decapitation, so don’t do anything stupid. This is a world of immortals. You’ve been really fucking lucky so far, but you lack training, knowledge, and experience.”

“And how much experience could you possibly have? You look younger than me even if you do have white hair.”

“I’m one hundred and seventeen years old,” I said without inflection. I kept my face straight as he tried to work out what I had just said. I decided to throw a wrench into his process after a moment. “I’m immortal. I’ll look like this until I die. My hair went white when I was a teenager. Unlucky, I guess.”

“You…”

“I’ve been around.” I shrugged. “Been an Executioner for eighty years, and a bounty hunter most of those. I’ve been killing people since I was fifteen. So, over a century on that. And my parents started my weapons training when I could walk. I was raised with a weapon in my hand.”

He sagged against the wall, his eyes wide.

“Look, Raphael, you’re in it now. For the most part, everyone you meet is going to be older than you by a long shot. We’re talking people who aren’t even trained killers being able to take you out just because they’ve gotten old enough to know how. Now, you have some neat abilities, and those will help you in the long run. From the looks of it, you’re still aging. No one else is, and that’s going to work against you. Vampires are locked at the physical ages of when they were turned. Werewolves and werecats hit their prime and practically stop. Same for many species, like mine.” I was cold, brutally honest with him because he needed it. “If you lose your temper with the wrong person? Dead. If you get flippant with the wrong person? Dead. If you even so much as look at some people the wrong way, they’ll try to kill you. Don’t ever look at someone in this world and only see what lies on the surface. It can and will get you killed.”

He slowly nodded, taking in my words. Good, he needed to stay flexible, able to adapt. Adaptation was the cornerstone of survival. Some species failed, while others thrived, and individuals had to stay on their toes.

“Get some rest. You look like you need it,” I said, reaching to open the guest room door. It wasn’t really the guest room. It was my room for Cassius when we were fucking. Before him, it had been pretty empty, a wasted space. I didn’t want to tell Raphael that, though. For some reason, it seemed incredibly distasteful.

“Thank you,”

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