Including the children, I thought, and tried to ignore the bloody images that flitted through my mind. I swallowed hard, and wondered why humans seemed to believe that time erased all wounds. It didn’t. It couldn’t.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Same really. Just pure and utter luck.”

The lie slipped off my tongue easily enough, though I wasn’t entirely sure why instinct was warning me not to remind him about the genetics that made me immune to poisons. This was Sal: a déchet, just like me, and the man I’d once trusted with all that I was. But a hundred years had passed since I’d last seen him, a hundred years in which I’d done little more than protect my little ghosts and our home. I wasn’t about to endanger them, even when it came to someone like Sal. Not until I knew beyond doubt that he was worthy of holding such a secret. People could change in a matter of years. In one hundred, anything could have happened.

“How long have you been in Central?” he asked. The autocook pinged and the door opened. He removed two plates, then walked across and handed me one. It smelled so good my mouth began to water.

“A few weeks.” I picked up a crisp bit of bacon and munched on it. Damn, it was almost as good as sex. Almost. “But I’m officially out of credits, and I’m looking for work.”

The words were out before I’d even thought about them. So much for not wanting to get involved with Nuri’s investigations, I thought resignedly. Instinct, it seemed, had far more sway over my actions than common sense.

He slid some cutlery my way, then perched on the stool beside me, his arm brushing mine as he tucked into his own meal. The brief moments of contact sent warm awareness surging through my body. I may have started out as the teacher when it came to all things sexual, but in subsequent years, he’d certainly taught me a thing or two. And even now, one hundred years later, that awareness and connection still burned bright and fierce between us.

He paused, his expression amused as he looked at me. “As much as I would love to offer you a position at Hedone, I’m afraid I’d much rather keep you in my bed than have anyone else in yours.”

“Nor would I wish to make money that way.” My smile faded. “These days, sex is something I have because I wish to. I have no desire for it to become a task again, in any way, shape, or form.”

“An understandable, if somewhat antiquated view.”

I frowned. “What’s antiquated about wishing to choose who I have in my bed rather than being told?”

“Perhaps ‘antiquated’ was the wrong word to use.” He shrugged. “I merely meant that we were designed with specific skill sets, and it’s a shame not to use them for our own gain.”

“Which is what you’ve been doing for one hundred years—using sex and assassination to feather your own nest?”

He raised an eyebrow, amusement lurking around the corners of his eyes. “It sounds rather tawdry put like that.”

“It wasn’t meant—”

He raised a hand, stopping me. “I know. And no, I haven’t spent the last one hundred years fucking and killing my way to a fortune. It’s only been in more recent years that I returned full-time to the task for which I was created.”

My gaze rose to his rather ind

ividual hair color. “And no one has ever said anything? Suspected you were far more than the front you present?”

He reached out and tugged at my hair. “Your deep orange-and-black hair is rather unique, missy. Has anyone ever said anything to you? Or do you wear this rather dowdy disguise full-time?”

Orange and black? Had he forgotten I was a white tiger rather than regular? I opened my mouth to remind him, then stopped, that odd warning to keep silent raising its head again. So I simply said, “Not full-time, but whenever I’m in Central, then yeah.”

“And yet it is not as if there aren’t plenty of shifters in Central. Your natural color—and mine—is mild compared to some of theirs.”

That was certainly true. I guess I’d just been so caught up in the need for safety that I’d gone totally over the top. I mopped up the remains of the eggs with the last bit of bacon, then placed my cutlery on the plate and pushed it away with a sigh.

“That was lovely. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome.” He paused. “I know plenty of influential people, thanks to this place. It might be possible for me to at least get you a job interview. What are your qualifications these days?”

“Beyond theft?” I asked, amused. “Not a whole lot, to be honest.”

He snorted softly. “There’s not many calls for thieves, I’m afraid.”

“Hence the reason I’m still unemployed.” I hesitated. “I heard on the grapevine that someplace called Winter Halo was recruiting night watchmen, but I have no idea where or how to apply.”

“I believe they are.” His eyes narrowed as he studied me for a moment. “Do you have ID?”

“Of course.” Or would have, if Nuri came through with her promise.

Tags: Keri Arthur Outcast Fantasy
Source: readsnovelonline.net