Page 27 of Hound

Silence echoed between us. Weapons had always been a topic that the CEG played around with but never settled on. Guardianswere engineered to protect, that in itself a weapon. We were disliked as it was. Adding weapons into the mix would create more fear.

“I hope that silence is filled with happiness?” he joked.

“Just confused. What type of weapons are we talking about?”

“I understand. I was reluctant to the idea, but with both governments introducing it, the CEG is playing around with a kit belt. Knives and batons are more likely to get greenlit. But my brother is looking at something else that can fully concentrate the silver nitrate. Like guns.”

“Why?” Irritation lined the edges of my question, but I tried biting it back. Guns were already seen as unsafe. To have guardians—who have been positioned in a neutral place since the birth of the CEG—carrying one would open the door to backlash.

“Ammunition has been the easiest form to mold it into. There's a fast turnaround when in the line of action.” He sighed. “Listen, your hesitation is normal, but this would be the best way for the CEG to expand. You trust me, right?”

There it was. The question he’d asked me six years ago, when I’d arrived after Mom’s death, with only my clothes on my back and my cousin, lost and hazy. The very one that opened the doors to my new life as a guardian and our friendship.

“Of course, I do.”

“Good, because I’ll need you to break it to Nina if it moves forward. And, if it does, Lorenzo Devon, I want to recruit you for the training and weaponry trails.”

“Even if I don’t have any experience with weapons?”

“Especially because you don’t have any experience. It’s all new. To you and me. This means you’ll be able to retire from your. . .other missions.”

My eyebrows raised. Those missions had been a part of my life for the past four years. I never questioned what would come after, or even if there was an after outside of them. “Really?”

“Yes. This is more crucial, and it means we’ll be in this. Together.”

“Together.” Those words were meant to send a wave of relief, but I felt nothing. Until my eyes fell on the diary in front of me. “But Lace.”

“Yes?”

In our relationship, we didn’t lie, but we also didn’t hold back information. There was never no need to. But I couldn’t help but think that foundation was crumbling, piece by piece as I uttered, “Nothing. Never mind.”

Hours after our phone call ended, when light vanished and darkness consumed the sky and my room, a knock against the door yanked me away from the desk. I hadn’t noticed the ache echoing in my muscles. Especially not the soreness on my backside until I inched the door open to peek out.

I wasn’t sure who I was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the Senior Guardian.

Sonia bowed and I responded the best way I could: with a swift nod. When she straightened herself, she said, “Good evening, Mr. Devon. I apologize for the late visit, however, I come with a last-minute summons.”

I spoke to Sonia a handful of times, and unlike other guardians, a few things stuck out to me.

One: she didn’t have a scent. She must have been one of the first guardians to be fully trained on how to conceal it.

Two: she never removed her sunglasses. Some guardians opted out of them like Katerina and me. Other guardians retired them after their post. She didn’t. They always sat perfectly in place against her flat bridge.

Three: she had a habit of closing the distance between us. Compared to her interactions with other guardians, where she kept them at a considerable arm’s length, with me it was as if she wanted to be close enough to sniff me. Weird, but I’ve experienced weirder in past posts.

Four: even though I couldn’t see her eyes, I couldfeelthem on me, studying, attentive. Any movement I took—whether that be to breathe or glance around—they tracked me like a hawk. The intensity was always present, but somehow, it wasn’t in the same way a guardian would have over subordinates. It was nostalgic, warm, and piercing.

And five: every time we spoke, a chill crawled up my spine. It wasn’t the same chill that took over whenever I visited the CEG. Nor did my hairs raise as when I chased prey. They were completely new.

“From who?”

“Christopher Sephtis.”

Huh. He couldn’t even come to see me himself. Cowardly, pompous fuck.

I nodded as I ignored the warmth that spread through my chest and poured into my veins. “Thank you, Ms. . .” What was her last name again?

“Sonia.” Her voice faltered, the serious tone diminishing as she spoke, “Sonia is fine.”

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