Page 30 of Their Lethal Pet
I strain my ears to hear more, but the trio has turned down another road, leaving our street entirely.
Frowning, I glance at the Protectors, wondering if they’re going to go after them.
They don’t.
In fact, another group walks in the opposite direction and heads down a different street, and the Protectors don’t even flinch.
Bartholomew and Miranda are engaged in some sort of quiet conversation about expectations, both of them oblivious to the movements of the others.
They don’t even seem to notice as another trio leaves the glass building. This one is composed of two men andone female. They all share looks with each other, nod, and go separate ways.
My lips curl down even more as they walk off with purpose and no one stops them or says a word.
Did you notice this behavior, too?I wonder at my sister.Did you follow one of them? Find a map? Run off to the Elite City?
It seems probable.
It also feels like a solid plan.
I take a step away from Bartholomew and Miranda, then glance at the Protectors once more.
No one notices me. Or, if they do, they don’t appear to care.
I move a few more paces backward.
No comment. No retaliation. No reaction whatsoever.
Okay…
I turn around and walk toward the road the three girls ventured down.Maybe I can catch up to them and ask about their map.
With my head held high, I pretend to know what I’m doing and trail after the strangely eager trio.
It’s not until I’ve turned onto the street—where I don’t see any sight of the giggling girls—that I realize Bartholomew and Miranda are following me.
But no sign of any pursuing Protectors.Good.
Bartholomew arches a brow, his expression silently asking,Now what?
Shrugging, I keep walking, deciding to test the boundaries of what is and isn’t allowed.
When nothing happens, I just… keep going.
And going.
And going.
All the buildings look similar with their metallic sidings mingling with greenery, only there appear to be windows, too. Lots of windows.
I pause to peer inside one, curious.
But it’s too dark for me to see.
“What are we looking for?” Bartholomew asks, his deep voice low and close to my ear.
I didn’t realize he was attempting to look through the glass as well, his movements oddly quiet for such a large guy. I’d almost expect the ground to shake with each step. But instead, all that muscle is encased in a sleek and stealthy package.
“Alina?” he prompts, glancing at me with his light-colored eyes. “Are we looking for a place to hide? Or something else?”
