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He noticed immediately. Head tilted, he said, “So, I’m sure you noticed the pattern of escalation. Strange case, beyond that. Doesn’t quite make sense, does it?”
“Of course not. There’s no information available beyond the basic little details.” The frustration in my words didn’t surprise me. The mystery really was infuriating.
He nodded. “It is. Do you want to know why? I’ll tell you why, don’t worry.”
“Lucky me.”
“It’s because the victims are lying, obviously.”
Whatever answer I’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. “That makes zero sense.”
“Then why are none of them pushing the investigation? Why are those people pretending like it never happened? I’m sure it’ll change now that a student has actually died. It’s too public. Too… un-ignorable.” He picked up the spoon and tapped it against his chin like he was trying to softly beat the answer out of himself.
“Who the fuck are you?” I blurted. “What’s your name? Why are you looking for an investigator? What’s your position in all of this?”
His tapping paused. Those mischievous eyes flicked up to me, gazing through thick lashes.
A strange warmth built in my chest, spreading downward.
“Razai Karah. Professor at Hartfall University. Part-time assistant to President Castile. Are you really going to keep standing around like that? It’s very intimidating.”
Nothing about his teasing tone suggested that he was at all unnerved.
I’m not sure who I’d expected him to be, but it certainly wasn’t a professor at a school like Hartfall. Not only that, but he was close to the school’s president? You had to be exceptionally well-connected and important to be both of those things.
Warning bells sounded in my mind. This wasn’t safe. This was literally the least safe thing that I could be doing. People like Razai were the exact people I was required to avoid.
I didn’t want to sit next to him. What would happen if I did? He’d invade my space again and carry me off. Or steal my keys. Or worse.
I asked, “What do you teach?”
“Weapons and combat.”
I couldn’t help the scoff.
“What?”
“You’re so… I don’t know. Not the gym rat type of guy.”
He spread his hands out. “Of course not. I’m clearly the weapons and combat type of guy. And I think it’s time you gave me your answer, Gray Wilder.”
“Why do all the families go with private investigation?” I hedged.
“Privacy, I imagine.” My flat stare only made him shrug and add, “You know how archangels are.”
As if you aren’t one, stalker.
I slowly paced across the empty floor. Trying to walk myself into a godsdamn answer. Trying to settle my desires into place.
Every logical bone in my body urged me to move on and never talk to this man again. The stalking was creepy. His character was… weird. He acted too familiar way too fast. He took too many liberties.
He was an archangel. The species who had the power to destroy me and Dad.
There was no reason to trust him.
So, why did I still want to ask more questions?
He said, “You know, if you were to take the job, only myself and the president would know it. You’d be paid as a regular employee for a regular job with a fake name that has nothing to do with a murder case.”
