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I didn’t answer because I had no fucking idea. The words carved into his arm were a blatant reminder of the dark desires we fell prey to. To anyone else, it was a simple word from a crazy man – Remember. To us, it was a thinly veiled threat that seemed to be a moot point, seeing as Finn had been dragged into the station.
A grunt fell from my lips at the thought of taking Killian to the station. He’d have to give his statement, but I hoped his father would allow one from the comfort of my home. Killian wasn’t in a state to go anywhere, let alone talk to people who wouldn’t understand him. They’d have him locked up faster than we could explain, and I refused to be the reason that Killian hated us. I wouldn’t be like his father – leaving Killian’s mother to die alone in a hospital – not if I could help it.
The kid shifted in my arms, and Aeron pulled back, both of us waiting with heavy-laden hearts. His eyes fluttered, the irises a dulled version of their usual color, the vibrance my little killer usually exhibited noticeably absent. “Cold. So cold.”
He shivered again, as he had been doing for the past hour, his fingers curling and uncurling. He winced, then stared down at the bandage on his arm, almost as if realizing the cut for the first time. Aeron resisted the urge to drag him into his arms as he settled in front of Killian. “Baby, how are you feeling?” Aeron and I had decided to avoid talking about Finn or the incident until Killian was fully with us. Perks of being the favorite and most trusted at the station would give me time, but once Finn said something about Killian, he’d be called in.
Killian met Aeron’s eyes, his head tilting up in the most timid fashion I had ever seen from him. “Is he gone?” Aeron frowned and nodded, my Killer snuggling back into my chest as if he couldn’t get close enough. “Killian slipped through. We tried so damn hard to shield him, but… he’s falling apart again. And I’m just so damn tired…” His voice trailed off as his head lolled back onto my shoulder.
Aeron didn’t speak for a moment as he met my gaze with a worry that wrenched my heart. “That… that was Daemon. I… if something happens to him—” Daemon was supposed to be the strongest of the three, and yet he was tired? That couldn’t be a good sign.
I shushed Aeron, reaching out to caress his cheek as I cradled Killian between us. There was no need for words. We both felt the same thing. If someone took Killian from us, there would be hell to pay. The problem was that it wasn’t Finn – or whoever that goddamn character had been back there. Someone was controlling the kid, and when we found the bastard? He would wish he’d never been born.
“Who the fuck touched my Kitten?”
The growly voice interrupted the somber moment, my attention flying to the monster filling the doorframe. I hadn’t even heard Slash approach us, which irritated me, but the expressionless face staring back at us was cause for concern.
Slash hadn’t awoken with a burning need to fuck someone. Instead, he looked like he would murder the next person who walked by him. I sincerely prayed that Brent was holed up somewhere. I could sacrifice a few of my security or the low-rung guys, but I wasn’t sure I could stomach watching Slash tear apart one of my closest friends.
“I said,” Slash growled out again as he stalked toward us, his eyes locked on mine. “Who. The. Fuck. Touched. My. Kitten?”
Finn’s name was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t do it. Not because Finn was just a pawn in this sick game, but because the moment it left my lips, Slash would be at that police station without a care in the world as he aired his darkest, demonic desires in front of the world.
I didn’t want that for Slash. I didn’t want that for any one of us. So I gave him a different answer, “We don’t know.”
By the raging anger that flashed in his eyes, his jaw set, and the overwhelming desire to lash out, I knew that my answer had been way worse. Finn was one target. A one-and-done sort of deal. But telling Slash I didn’t know who hurt Killian meant that any fucker on the street could have touched our man. Which meant anyone was game.
When Slash stalked back out the way he came, and the echo of the front door slamming met my ears, I knew I had fucked up. Just how much – only time would tell.
I tried to ignore yet another call from Chief Matthews but knew if I didn’t pick up, he’d come to see his son, which would be the worst option. Answering the call, I immediately caught him screaming into the earpiece. “Where the fuck is Killian?”
“He’s okay, just a little spooked.”
I didn’t want to reveal more information than Chief Matthews had, but he had to know there was something off by the way I was at my house rather than at the station debriefing him on the goddamn case. I got away with too much shit.
“Don’t keep me from him, Merchant. This is bigger than you and me. If I didn’t trust you, I’d demand more, but I know you love him despite my requests. I’ll speak with you in the morning, and I expect an entire report because I’m sure what you told the fucking cops isn’t the real story.”
He hung up before I could respond, but I knew tomorrow would be a shit show.
SLASH
I knew when I slammed the door that Aeron and Samael thought I was going off to slice up some motherfucker for touching my Kitten, our Kitten. But that wasn’t the case. I needed to clear my head, and being in there, where Killian was knocked out on the couch, shivering and in pain, wasn’t the place for me. The desire to fuck something up was strong, but I also needed answers, and I had to calm the raging thoughts swirling around in my head.
I’d have to talk this one out, wouldn’t I?
With a heavy sigh, I stalked back into the living room, voices traveling from the kitchen. My favorite knife had surfaced, limply dangling from my fingers as I waved it back and forth in stabbing motions that would entrance anyone staring at it.
Killian had rolled onto his stomach, mouth open, drool spilling from his lips as he snored away. His bandaged arm was cradled at his side, the other thrown across the back cushions awkwardly. I thought about resituating him, but if he was sleeping, I didn’t want to wake him up. It was the one time he seemed to be at peace. I wasn’t going to ruin that.
Tears gathered at the corner of my eyes as I slipped into the kitchen, both Samael and Aeron immediately freezing at my presence. My fingers fiddled with my knife of their own accord, Samael noticing and stiffening as I twirled it again, unable to help the sense of peace that washed over me when my blade was in my hand.
“I didn’t kill anyone. Yet.” They both relaxed, and I scoffed at their reactions. My craft took time. Regardless of how angry I was, I wouldn’t rush something as important as one of my kills. “Now, what the fuck happened?”
Samael ran his hands through his hair, eyeing the entrance to the living room. “A lot, apparently. I think Killian needs to see someone.”
That wasn’t what I expected Samael to say; frankly, that was the least of our worries. I was sure Samael had already told Aeron about my run-in with Casey. “Great. So should we, for that matter. What happened at the warehouse, Mael?” It just slipped out…
He froze, glaring at my use of his nickname. I was fucked in the head again, and I needed answers. He reached for me, but I pulled away, gripping my knife tighter. He could fuck me out of my head later. Right now, I wanted to feel the rage rushing through me. It was unsettling, sure, but it was also a fucking rush. Keeping the emotions bottled inside was dangerous, but sometimes, I liked to torture myself.
