He nods. “Bring the body,” he orders, and I chuckle.
I retrieve Owen and follow him inside. The room is vast, with a large steel sink and a door. I assume it leads to a bathroom, but I focus on the chains hanging from the ceiling. Further into the room, there is a barrel that looks like a trough and several drains.
“Did Allie explain?” I ask, dropping the body.
“Yes.” He tilts his head. “She didn’t tell me you are a fox.”
“Is that a deal breaker?” I ask, lifting my brows.
“No. I just find it interesting. We don’t have many of your species here.” He looks at Owen. “Do you have a method?”
“I do. My supplies are in the vehicle.”
He tips his chin toward the front of the building and I assume he’s telling me to get them.
I jog to the door, retracing my steps. I always work alone. Most of the men I kill won’t be missed, and in any other place, it wouldn’t matter if I left them where I killed them. Several of my jobs are in the target's house, surrounded by the evidence of their crimes. Out of respect for the place Allie calls home, I won’t leave any trace. I grab everything I need and join Bash. He remains in the same position.
“Do you mind if I watch?” he asks, and I slip on my gloves.
“Go for it.” I unzip the bag, and roll him into the tub, avoiding getting blood on my clothes. I begin my process of turning Owen into liquid.
“I have a method,” he says, backing up. “I’ve never met anyone else with similar tastes in disposal.”
“I like the art of it,” I reply, adding the last few ingredients.
I’ve experimented with different chemicals over the years. Mixing them can be tricky if you don’t know what you are doing. Extensive research is necessary. Some materials will do the job, but will leave parts of the body intact. My goal is to liquify every inch.
“Most people wouldn’t think of it that way,” he mutters.
“Does it matter what others think?”
“Not to me,” he says, and I grin. “What did he do?”
“He assaulted a girl,” I say softly. “He was a predator. Owen stalked young girls online, gained their trust, and convinced them to meet in person.”
“Fuck,” he grits out.
“I was thrilled to make him stop.” I suppress my sense of smell as his body starts to bubble. We can smell everything to an extreme degree, but most shifters can control it if they practice. This is the worst part before the remains turn into a substance that can easily slide down the drain.
“I think I’m going to like you,” Bash hums.
“Really? Are we bonding?” I tilt my head.
“Do you have any sense of self-preservation?” He narrows his eyes.
“No,” I chuckle.
“I’ll probably still like you,” he rumbles.
“I can always use another friend,” I say dryly.
“Sometimes, I think I have too many,” he murmurs.
“Can there be too many?” I ask, stepping back, letting the magic work.
“Did Allie tell you about this town?” he asks.
“In what way?” I know she is a recent transplant. She moved when her brothers met their mate. I’ve listened to her stories, and she mentioned several names.
