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“What is wrong with you?” I snapped. “Do you have any idea how long it’s been? I thought you were taking this seriously!”
Then I noticed the look in her eyes. Somethinghadgone wrong. Almost immediately after I finished my sentence, she collapsed into my chest and began crying, sinking to the floor, and I went with her until we were both kneeling on the tile.
I just held her. I didn’t know what else to do. I wanted to know what happened, but I knew whoever hurt her was going to die because of their actions.
I wasn’t sure if I had room in my schedule for another killing that week. Of course, for her, I would always make an exception.
“Hey,” I whispered before pulling back from our embrace. I kept my hands on her arms lightly while she dried her tears. “Breathe.” She tried to take deep breaths, but they were choppy and filled with sharp inhales. I tipped her chin up to meet my gaze and breathed slowly in front of her. “With me. Focus on me.”
She tried, and after a few more choppy inhales, we got there together. The tears slowed, but her muscles were still incredibly tense. I looked at her and pressed my forehead to hers. “What happened?”
“I-I was getting the files.” She sniffled. “I was in her office, and it was huge, it was, there were bookshelves and—”
“And what?” I asked gently, moving my hands downward, motioning for her to slow down. “What happened?”
She exhaled and shook her head, looking down at the floor. After a moment of silence, she looked at the ceiling and blinked a tear away before locking eyes with me again. “When I came out of the shaft into the pantry,” she sighed. “The chef found me. He pinned me to the wall, and I didn’t know what to do.” She hyperventilated again, and I forced her to look at me.
“Emma, whatever you did, was what you had to do.”
“No!” she screamed, pushing me away. “It wasn’t! He didn’t have to die!”
Die. She killed him. How did she…The thought struck me hard.The blaster.
I didn’t give a shit about the chef being dead. If she hadn’t killed him herself, I would have purely because he put his hands on her.
He deserved it, I was sure. What bothered me had nothing to do with him. It was the crisis she was in that made me insane.
And I did that to her.
“He was going to hurt you,” I replied, cupping her face with my hands. “Emma, you did the right thing.”
“No!” she cried. “They’re going to find him. The body is justtherein the pantry. Conii’s guards, they’re…”
“They’re not going to find shit,” I cut her off firmly before looking over my shoulder. “Makar!” I yelled toward the back. He came running out and looked at us on the floor, astonished. “We need to clean up Conii’s personal quarters.”
“Herpersonalquarters?”
“You’re a chef, aren’t you?” I barked.
“Well, I…”
Dammit. He’s a Vinduthi. The cameras will catch him sneaking in.“Sophia!”
She came running out promptly and stood beside Makar. “Sophia, you go to Conii’s quarters. It’ll take some makeup but use it to cover your sigils. Find a way to get him in.” I looked at Makar sharply. “Then you clean up the body in the pantry. If anyone else saw it, kill them on the spot.”
Makar nodded and looked at Sophia, and with that, they were off. Before they closed the door behind them, I whistled, and Makar turned around to look at me.
“Do you have a computer here?”
“Yeah.” He pointed to the kitchen door. “In the back.”
“How safe is this place?”
“Safehouse proofed.”
I nodded. “Good. Go.”
He ran out the door with Sophia, and I glanced back at Emma, stroking her hair gently. “You’re okay. Nothing is going to happen to you.”
