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“We’re not exactly as old as we look,” North says, as Cain comes in with some rope. “We’re much older. We’ve been around a while and we’ve had some run-ins. We figured it was best to be prepared.”

“So are you… bounty hunters too?” What if their flirting with me and seduction of me was all this elaborate trap to win me over so that they could lead me to Donovan themselves?

“We’ve done a bit of that,” North admits. “But we would never hurt you.”

“You’re our mate,” Raven adds.

Cain starts tying up the bodies, and I raise an eyebrow at him.

“What, you think they’re going to come back to life and start attacking again?” I ask.

He chuckles. “No, but tying them up makes them easier to carry. No limbs flailing around.”

“Oh.” I blink. “That… makes sense, I guess.” I don’t know what other response there is to what he just said other thanwhat the fuck.

North opens a portal and each of the men takes a body, stepping through. I step through as well, following them. It might not be the smartest idea to follow three people I barely know to an undisclosed location, but I want to know what they’re doing.

We step into a large, rather bare room with tiled walls and a concrete floor. There’s some equipment, including metal gurneys, off to one side. Up against one wall is a massive furnace.

“We’re at the local crematorium,” Cain tells me, relaxed and nonchalant.

“You guys make use of the crematorium regularly?” I’m not sure if I’m asking seriously or if I’m joking around. I know next to nothing about these guys, and I feel safe with them—but I don’t know if I can trust that safe feeling. I haven’t felt safe around anyone in years.

“Oh, only about once a month or so,” he replies, waggling his brows. He’s clearly teasing me, and that helps relax me a little. I don’t think he’d go so far as to lie if they did in fact use this portal regularly.

“The incinerator is the best place,” North says, opening it up. I wince as the bodies are unceremoniously fed inside one at a time. They have to wait until one body is finished before they can put in another, and the smell isn’t exactly pleasant.

“You have to get used to the smell,” Cain says sagely, noticing my face of disgust.

“It’s not a place that can be traced back to us,” North continues to explain, as if no interruption had occurred. “And even if someone did want to investigate, it’ll be nearly impossible to find one particular person’s remains among all the others that they put in here.”

“You guys really know what you’re doing,” I admit.

“For how long we’ve been around, we’d better.”

Once the bodies are finished being, well, burned, North opens the portal again and we step back through into their apartment. I think that was the trippiest thing I’ve ever done. And they’re acting like it’s completely normal. Just who have I gotten myself mixed up with?

And yet, I feel safe with them. I don’t know what to do about that.

“Food,” Raven says, and without further ado, he goes into the kitchen.

He seems to be a man of few words.

North looks me up and down, clinically, like he’s my doctor. “You should get something to eat,” he decides.

“Um, okay?” I pause. “Are you saying I’m too skinny?”

“I’m saying you look like you don’t take care of yourself enough,” North replies. “All work and no relaxation.”

Damn it, he’s got me there.

I follow the three men into the rather lovely kitchen. I have to admit, this apartment of theirs is nice. Not that I really got the chance to appreciate it last night. I was busy appreciating other things. But now in the morning light I can actually see around me and it looks like a place that people have really made a proper home.

The walls of the kitchen are painted a bright and sunny yellow, with cream-colored cabinets and a retro style fridge. The living room’s blue, with cream-colored bookshelves stuffed with all kinds of books. There seem to be a few different genres—action thriller, mystery, historical fiction, and nonfiction. And the works of Jane Austen.

“The Austen is mine,” Cain says, following my gaze. “So is all the historical fiction. Raven likes action, seeing if he can solve the mystery and guess who the killer is. North is boring. He likes nonfiction.”

“I like educating myself,” North counters.

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