his question stuck with me. Was I in this just for information, or was I desperate to keep Raphael alive thanks to my biology? I spent a hundred years avoiding the possibility I would find someone compatible with me, and here he was, and people were trying to capture and potentially kill him. He didn’t know what he was, and I felt as if it was my responsibility to learn, not just for him but for the implication that information could have for me.
Everything was too complicated.
“I’m going to let you go. I just figured you should know I have him in custody.” I wanted to get off the phone now. I was tired of people, tired of the interaction. I needed some quiet music and a dark room.
“Sinclair has no intention of letting this go,” Paden warned.
“I figured as much,” I mumbled, then hung up.
Before heading to my bedroom, I did a security check around my home. The windows and doors were locked. The guest bedroom was secure. Raphael would only be able to go around the house and not leave it.
Unless he can rip a door off the hinges or crush the metal security covers on the windows. Seems like a real possibility.
I loaded every gun in the house, just in case, my paranoia getting the best of me. I didn’t poison the blades. With him in the house, I had to be a lot more careful with my venom, and that meant doing without some of my weapons. If he accidentally cut himself, I would have a lot of uncomfortable questions to answer.
When I reached my bedroom, I locked the door. I had a stranger in my house. The lock was ineffective, but it gave me some comfort. He would try the handle first, which would wake me up, so I would have time to get moving if he tried to kill me in my sleep…if I even got to sleep.
I turned off the lights and turned on some soft music. I didn’t lie down, though. Sitting in the middle of my bed, finding a comfortable position, I relaxed, closing my eyes as I steadied my breathing. An old friend taught me how to center myself. It heightened my senses, excluding sight, rested me, and kept me prepared for battle. When I was young, I realized I would never be truly safe. After my family was slaughtered, I got into a lot of trouble, trying to stay alive and get revenge. I was taken in by another assassin. He taught me the ropes, then pointed me in the direction of the Tribunal, saying working for them was dangerous but offered a high level of safety and respect. The best way to hide was in plain sight.
He also taught me to make it on my own. If I was ever caught on the run, I didn’t need to sleep for a few days, thanks to the techniques he taught me. I just had to meditate.
With Raphael next door—a stranger and an unknown danger—sleep wasn’t an easy option. With the possibility of Sinclair and his friends coming after me, if they found a way to my home, sleep was even further away. Tonight, I resigned myself to meditation. Trying to sleep would only make me restless.
12
Chapter Twelve
It was a few hours later when I heard him walking around and opened my eyes. I decided to investigate before he got into something he shouldn’t. Hopefully, he was just looking for a bathroom, which connected to the kitchen, but I needed to be sure. For my own peace of mind, I had to make sure before I went ballistic or got spooked and accidentally killed him.
If I even can, if push comes to shove…
I left my bedroom and walked silently to my living room. I could see the dining room, kitchen, and the door to the bathroom from my position. I watched him slip into the bathroom and relaxed a bit. When he came back out, I had the chance to see him when he didn’t know I was looking, just like I had the moment I met him.
He still ran hot, much hotter than a werewolf or werecat. Even in my cool house, he was boiling but didn’t seem sick or uncomfortable. I would guess his natural body temperature was closer to one hundred and six, maybe seven degrees, which should have been cooking his brain. His muscles were tight, ripped like he was at the gym eight hours a