Page 47 of Dragonfly

And then, turning her head, she smiles at me. “And you.”

Fuck. We’re caught.

Even if I didn’t already see her face countless times while she was out with Damien, or have the image of the blonde hair and horrified expression after she burst into his bedroom that first night, her outfit would give her away. She has on a pale pink leotard complete with a gauzy skirt, cropped tights that show off a pair of gnarly dancers’ toes that are painted black, and a white towel draped around her sweaty neck.

Genevieve Libellula.

“Um. Hi.”

“I know, I know. It’s so awkward that we’ve been living in the same house and this is the first time we’re really being introduced. That’s because my brother told me not to bother you until I was sure you wouldn’t be embarrassed about…” She makes a crude gesture, shaking one hand by her mouth, using her tongue to make her cheek bulge at the same time. “You know.”

Oh my God. “Yeah. I know.”

“Thought you would. And since I’m never forgetting that, I thought maybe we could finally meet on your, like, fiftieth wedding anniversary? I might be senile by then and it wouldn’t matter. But I guess your cat— this is your cat, right? And you’re Savannah?”

I nod.

“I’m Genevieve. Most people call me Gen. Vin calls me Genny.” She pauses for a moment. “Don’t call me Genny.”

Okay, then. I gesture at the cat. “This is Orion.”

At the sound of his name, his tail goes right up in the air, and he eases his way toward me as if realizing that he’s a) in big, big trouble right now, and b) running in his condition was probably a bad idea, and now that he’s stopped, he’s feeling it.

Genevieve frowns. “What’s wrong with your cat? Is she supposed to walk like she’s bow-legged?”

“Orion is a he.”

“Sorry. I didn’t see any balls so I thought she was a girl.” Lowering her voice, almost as an aside, she adds, “Don’t tell Dame I know what balls look like. He might have a shit fit.”

I swallow my laugh. I’m sorry, but how in any world is this girl Damien’s sister? I’m not even talking about her being blonde while he has super dark hair. Their tanned skin is the same, so are their eyes and a few facial features, but their personalities?

Worlds fucking apart.

I like her. Maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe I need to just pick Orion up and carry him back downstairs.

Or maybe…

“Maybe I should take him to the vet.” I bent low, stroking his head. “You’re right. I noticed he’s been walking a little weird since your brother went to my apartment and got him for me.” Peeking up at Genevieve, I check her reaction. Huh. She doesn’t seem surprised that Damien would do that. Because she already knew? Or because that’s just what kind of a man he is? I shake my head. “Now that I’m thinking about it, his litter box hasn’t really been full. I thought it was the stress of a new place, but maybe he’s constipated. A vet visits probably in order.”

All of that is true. I wasn’t worried because this isn’t that unusual for Orion. When I got him as a kitten, he ended up so full of shit, I had to scrape my pennies together to take him to the vet for an enema. Talk about a three-hundred dollar shit by the time he was done.

But if I could convince Damien’s sister that it might be essential to take him now? I’ll keep her secrets, she can keep mine, and instead of taking Orion to the vet, I can get a headstart out of Springfield.

He doesn’t give a shit about me. Not really. If I leave his turf, tracker or no tracker, he wouldn’t chase after me. I’d only be a loose end if I stayed in the city, but even if I have to give up on my revenge, I’d do it if only to get away from Damien while I still can.

Lifting her towel, she dabs the underside of her jaw. “Know what? That’s a good idea. We’ve got, like, six cars in the garage. I know where Damien keeps the keys, too, if you want to take him. I’d hate to see the kitty in pain.”

“Really?”

“No.”

It’s the flat tone of voice that has me doing a double-take, especially since Genevieve hasn’t lost her friendly smile.

“Um. Sorry. What?”

She reaches out, patting my arm.

“I’m not sure if Damien told you about me, but if we’re going to get along, I should make something perfectly clear. My big brother still looks at me and sees a four-year-old in a tutu. He thinks I have no idea what’s going on half the time, and I’m happy to let him. Yeah? Yeah. But you’re not my big brother. Honestly, I’m not really sure who you are except for the woman who stabbed Dame.”

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