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I pick up my favorite knife from the table and cross the room in quick strides. The poor asshole doesn’t even see the knife coming before I plunge it into his carotid artery.
Blood pours from the wound, and I watch as it stains his white T-shirt. The contrast is stifling, but addictive nonetheless.
I send a quick text to one of the only people who knows where our base is, our cleaner, and leave the dead asshole to bleed as I make my way up to Crew’s office.
He doesn’t like when we drag blood through the building, but he’s just going to have to live with it.
I shove into his office without knocking and find him behind his desk as usual. He’s scowling at the screen, his fingers tapping impatiently on the wood as he reads whatever it is that’s frustrating him.
“I thought we agreed you assholes would start knocking,” he grumbles as he finishes whatever it is he’s looking at.
“No, you agreed. The rest of us decided to ignore you.” I crack my first smile in days, hell, it may have even been weeks at this point. Regardless, it feels foreign and unnatural.
He rolls his eyes and leans forward on the desk, his elbows pressing into the oak. “What do you want?”
“Snappy today,” I prod.
He huffs out a sigh. “It’s been a long day.”
“Anything to do with our houseguest?”
His eyes flash with something I can’t quite read before he buries it behind his mismatched gaze. “It doesn’t matter. You here for a reason?”
I nod, quickly relaying the information the asshole in the basement gave me, making sure I don’t leave out any of the details. When you’re dealing with assholes like Davenport, you have to have all your facts straight, and seeing as Crew is much more likely to be speaking to him, I want him to have it all together.
Crew scrubs a hand down his face and runs it through his hair, disrupting the perfectly styled look he wears for the rest of the world. “Fuck.”
“This means we have cause to kick his ass out, right?”
He shakes his head. “No, this means we have bosses who are completely disregarding our authority. We have no idea if any of the others are involved, if this is just the surface.” He pauses and flicks his gaze to the screen in front of him. “He said Charles doesn’t know where Camilla is?”
I shake my head and bury the growl that tries to rise to the surface. It always comes back to her. “He said he has people scouring the city for her, even if that means crossing into another territory.”
“He’s willing to start a war to get her back.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
BISHOP
Warmth envelops me as I come to, and it takes a few moments for me to figure out where I am.
After weeks of sleeping in the chair beside her bed, last night I crawled into bed beside Camilla, ignoring the smug look Kovu gave me from the other side of her.
She didn’t hesitate when she curled into my side and looked anything but concerned when Kovu wrapped himself around her from behind.
Something changed between the three of us yesterday, and I’m not going to question it. Not when it feels so fucking right.
I blink at the light streaming in the window and notice the time. Just after seven. How long has it been since I slept this long? Years? My mind is too busy to sleep normally, but not last night.
I glance over Camilla’s sleeping form, her soft snores the only sound in the room, and notice Kovu’s knowing eyes staring back at me.
“Sleep well?” he asks.
“Yep.”
“Nice of you to finally pull the stick out of your ass.”
“Shut up,” I snap.
