“Isn’t that how it works? If it doesn’t hit your account, it never existed.” He grinned. “Do assassins pay taxes or will we be raided by the tax people for fraud? That could actually be kind of interesting.”
“No.It would not.” I gave him a hard look. “Taxes get… complicated for me. But that’s also why I have an accountant to handle things so that we don’t get raided by the tax assessors. Yes, I pay them to keep Fiona’s affairs in order as well.”
“All right then. Wait, is there anything special you need to do since you're not a citizen?" Dusty asked. "Do I need to fill anything out for you?"
"There are extra documents for when we form a pack, but we should be fine. I'll let you know if I need anything from you," I assured.
Everything was already in place from when I moved here. From the research I'd done the extra steps I added to the process wereminimal. I'd reach out to the person who'd helped me relocate to Boston to make sure we did everything correctly.
"Sounds good. Why don't you grab your shit and we'll go to the gym?” he added.
“There is something that I need to do. Maybe I should do that first? Or perhaps after depending on where things are, I don’t know where anything is in relation to each other yet.” I frowned.
“What do you need to do?” he inquired.
“Important administrative assassin things.” I put my cup in the dishwasher.
“Do you have to go register at the local assassin's office?” He pondered that.
“More like I need to let the local mafia know that I’m not here to cause problems,” I replied, not seeing any reason to hide it from him.
“Sounds dangerous? Do you want me to come with you? I mean, I know you can take care of yourself, but safety in numbers,” he offered.
Concern flowed through his scent. Scents were a lot more pronounced now, though I’d always had a very good nose. It was an important tool for an assassin.
“It’s fine. I checked it out with the home office. I literally have to go to a deli and talk to someone named Zia.” The fact that everyone simply called herAuntiewas definitely a sign of respect.
Dusty paused. “Oh, you’re going to see Zia at the deli? I love that place. Wow! They really are mafia. Huh.” His voice went a little hushed. “I’ve always wondered, because sometimes there are people there that have that vibe, but I didn’t want to judge.”
“You go to that deli?” I blinked, a little surprised.
“Zia’s black and white cookies are better than my mamma’s. But never tell her I said that. The meatball subs are great, and they make giant sandwiches with all these different kinds of meat and cheeses on them. And they have pickles!” He grew very excited.
“A pickle sounds really good. I suppose you can come with me if you’d like. I don’t know if it’s anywhere near your gym.” It wouldn’t hurt if he already went there.
“That’s how I know about it. The guys at the gym love their sandwiches.” He rested his head in between my neck and shoulder again and held me. “I’m sorry you’re still feeling shitty.”
“Thanks. I don’t know what kind of cold or stomach bug it is, considering none of you were sick.” I sighed.
His look went thoughtful. “Are scents getting really pronounced? What about food not being right?”
“Yes, and my stomach has been a bit off. Usually I love eggs, but right now I want nothing to do with it. A pickle sounds delicious, but I probably need electrolytes. Do we have any sports drinks or vitamin waters?” I rummaged through the fridge, and I found one of each.
“Okay.” Dusty nodded. “Yeah, let’s go to the gym. I’m excited for you to meet everyone.”
“You’re always welcome here and not just because you’re Dusty’s mate. Anyone who fights like you has a place here,” Marv told me. Everything about the alpha was big, including his voice and personality.
He had been the one to arrange the whole apology outing to see the fight that Dusty brought me to after he wrecked one of my jobs. I actually knew of Marv, he trained a number of famous fighters.
“Thank you for the invitation. It’ll be nice to get back to a regular workout. I spent the past few months living in Boston andcouldn’t find quite the right place,” I admitted.
Working out today felt incredible. Dusty was a good sparring partner.
He put a sweaty arm around me. “You did great.”
“You’re sweaty and gross.” I laughed, pushing him away.
“So are you. Let’s shower real quick, then go get those sandwiches. I think we earned them,” he said, taking a big sip of water.
