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Cam smiled at her cousin. “He loved admiring himself in the dressing room mirrors from all the angles.”
Gun exhaled dreamily. “My favorite pastime. I miss those gangly limbs.”
“Trust me,” I said. “You’ve still got them.”
He patted my cheek. “You’re the sweetest.” His brow furrowed. “Can I touch you without letting you inside my head?”
“You can’t stop me, but I can stop myself. I’ve had years of practice. It’s only when my emotions are heightened that it’s more difficult to keep my guard up.”
“In other words, I could’ve saved myself a whole sob story by giving you a peek inside my nightmares.”
“I’d prefer to learn about you the old-fashioned way.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “You’re an ancient goddess. Your way is the old-fashioned way.”
Camryn smacked his arm. “Don’t bring the subject back to her. I’m enjoying our time in the spotlight.” She turned to face me, leaning her elbows on the counter. “You have more burning questions, don’t you?”
Gun scrutinized me. “She definitely does. I can tell by the lines right here.” He tapped the space between my eyebrows. “And now that I’m focused on this spot, you should really consider microblading. I can recommend someone.”
My fingers skimmed my eyebrow. “I’d like to understand your decision to join the guild.”
“Health insurance that includes eye care and dental,” Gun replied smoothly.
Cam elbowed him in the ribs. “She means the decision to kill people for a living.”
“I’m not judging you,” I added quickly.
“No, that’s Nana Pratt’s territory,” Gun murmured.
“I can give you my reasons.” Cam paused to drink her shake. “Gun might have different ones.”
Gunther stared into his glass. “We grew up surrounded by death and violence.”
“I know retail can be cutthroat, but that seems excessive.”
Gun gave me a look of disdain. “My mother owned the store. My father was an assassin.”
“And mine,” Cam said. “They were brothers-in-law. Gun’s dad and my mom were siblings.”
I didn’t miss her use of the past tense.
“I rebelled as a teenager.” Gun’s gaze flicked to me. “Shocking, I know.”
“Except his rebellion was more about the horrors of our family’s lifestyle,” Camryn explained. “Like you, he wanted to know why our fathers would choose murder as an occupation.”
“I told my parents I wouldn’t even attempt to master the Major Arcana if it meant taking innocent lives.” He paused to clear his throat. “That’s when my father sat me down and told me the truth.”
My head spun with possibilities. “He wasn’t actually an assassin?”
“Oh, no. He was, but he had a say over his targets, just like we do. He would only agree to a contract if certain conditions were met.”
“They were ethical assassins,” Cam tacked on.
“What were the conditions?” I asked.
“The same ones we adhere to now. There had to be evidence of a crime. Not just charged with one or an accusation but hard evidence.” Gun’s eyes gleamed with gravitas. “And the crime had to be violent or deadly in nature. No revenge for a business deal gone bad unless the result was the loss of innocent lives.”
“And the targets can’t be human,” Camryn chimed in, “but the ones who hires us can.”
