Page 19 of Painted Scars
“That little twerp!” He yanks off his headphones, tosses them on his desk, and scrubs a hand over his stubbled jaw.
“Fuck.” I pinch my forehead. “Play the rest.”
We jump through various cameras and get the gist of what happened. Kate told her housemate, who played nonchalant with the story, but once her friend left for work, turned into Espionage Spice and ran a signal sweep with tech she stashed in the attic.
“Wasn’t expecting that.” Grayson leans back in his chair, lips flattened into a defeated line.
“Where the fuck is Katar?” I growl. “He’s supposed to be watching her!”
“Right here.” Concrete scrapes as he shifts the brick he uses for a doorstop.
He always secures the bunker door open. Easy exit. He doesn’t like confined spaces or feeling trapped because the Romans locked him in a padded cell for refusing to join them.
“Nice of you to show up on time,” I bark.
Footsteps tap down the stairs as he joins us. “Had a little unexpected delay.”
The throbbing in my temple picks up pace. “What kind of delay?”
“Nothing I can’t handle, boss.” He pulls up a chair and settles in,Allgoalriding boots kicked up on the desk. He shoots the doorway a final glance, then slides out one of his blades, polishing the blood from it with a pocket rag.
Grayson drags the skin under his eyes down. Failure doesn’t mix well with an overachiever complex. I thump him on the back.
Katar nods at the screen displaying the pile of bugs on the counter. “And I thought the unicorn was just for decoration.” He whistles like he’s impressed.
I fold my arms. “This is the handiwork of your friend.”
“Murder Spice did that?” Something akin to pride stretches his mouth. “I knew she was good news.”
“Don’t you mean bad news?” Grayson tugs at his hair.
Katar’s feral grin widens. Bad is good to him.
I cut him off before he goes on a tangent. “What’s our next move?”
Katar points his now clean knife at the screen. “Recruit her to the team. She’s got sharper instincts than half the Shadow Lake Police force.”
I slash my hand through the air. “Not happening until we know if she’s Team Roman. Kate’s bodyguard.” My arms cross. Lockdown mode, like all our active investigations. This just turned priority URGENT. “They’re both more dangerous than we thought. I want to know how the fuck Murder Spice knows how to sweep and where she got the tech.”
Katar’s predator switch flips, and he sheaths his weapon. “With pleasure.” He cracks his knuckles, slowly and deliberately, pleased he’s been given rein to unleash hell.
Grayson scratches his forehead. “What if we try something radical and befriend Kate? Talk to her. See what she knows. You know… like humans do.”
My jaw ticks. “I don’t befriend targets. Period.”
He raises two palms. “Hear me out. I’ve been listening to them for three days straight and learned a lot about them. They’re not Romans. Unless their new strategy is to become romance addicts who break down your festival flirt-fest, hedge bets on how big your dick is, and give it names.”
Goddamn fiends.
Katar doesn’t miss a beat and lowers his legs and leans forward. “Please tell me it’s something monstrous, like Broodzilla.”
I glare at Grayson for giving my enforcer ideas. “I will end you both.”
Grayson perks up and winks. “If you’re trying to intimidate me with that brooding jawline, just know it only fuels the fanfiction.”
My lip curls. “Burn all the bug footage. Now.”
Grayson shrugs. “Too late. They’ve already catalogued everything about you, given you a backstory, and assigned you tropes. The only question is, what role are you playing?”
