given to your wife ?”
“Angel,” Monroe corrected. “We call our mates angels.”
They stared at each other for a moment of companionable silence before Monroe exhaled loudly and rubbed the back of his neck. “You know about us now, Ms. Worthington, and I don’t think I need to tell you how dangerous things have just become for you. Please know that if you have any designs on betraying me or my kind,” he didn’t get to finish.
“You don’t have to threaten me, Mr. StoneCrow. As I said, I’m not dumb or blind. I understand well the consequences of crossing you or your Skin Walkers. I plan on getting back to work and performing my duties with the highest level of professionalism and discretion.”
Looking relieved, Monroe plowed a hand through his dark hair. “Now, I’ve just got to figure out where King disposed of that body. I can’t have this coming back to bite us. We don’t need that kind of attention.”
Lilly dropped her eyes and felt the first real pang of regret for what King had done for her. She didn’t regret the loss of a monster like RJ, but she didn’t want to bring any trouble to StoneCrow.
Monroe stood, dusting a fleck of lint off his impeccably tailored slacks. Today, as was typical for everyday, he wore dark dress slacks with imported Italian shoes, ever ready for the boardroom or TV interview. His white button-up shirt was tucked into his pants and a black tie hung down the front of his shirt, and was slightly unknotted. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to reveal thickly corded forearms.
Suddenly the door opened and Cindy Sambrano entered. The small female with short, dark, hair was a recent hire to the estate. Eventually, she’d work in the Crow’s Nest, the pub that would be on the penthouse floor. For now, she assisted with the kitchen staff, keeping the stream of constantly arriving employees fed.
Carrying a covered tray, Cindy entered and scanned the room for a table. Finding none, she wordlessly approached RedKnife and gripped his elbow with delicate fingers before sliding her hand down his thick arm to grab his wrist. Although her fingers didn’t come near to touching, she lifted his fist and used her small fingers to force his hand opened so that it rested flat, palm side up. She placed her tray on his hand before smiling up at him and whispered, “Can you hold this for a sec.” She was completely oblivious to the fact that everyone in the room had suddenly stilled, all eyes locked on her. Even Monroe tensed as he peered apprehensively at RedKnife’s dazed expression.
No one ever touched RedKnife KillsPrettyEnemy. No one! Hell, even his best friend, King Mulholland, had only ever brushed the lone Indigenous Walker a handful of times over the span of their decade’s long friendship.
Unaware of her faux paux, Cindy continued to remove items from the nearest bedside table before removing the tray from RedKnife’s hand and smiling at him appreciatively before giving him a friendly wink then bending to lay out silverware next to Lilly’s lunch.
“Thanks!” She whispered to RedKnife.
When the room suddenly darkened, all eyes—except for Cindy’s and RedKnife’s—shot to the window.
It was rumored, but as of yet unproven, that Indigenous Walkers could control the elements. No one was certain if the shifts in weather, that seemed to mimic RedKnife’s moods, were coincidence or not.
Monroe cleared his throat. “That’ll be all, Cindy.”
She nodded once then quietly exited the room.
RedKnife still stood with his hand palm side up in the air, as if unsure what had just happened. He looked mystified.
Monroe had to smirk at the poor Walker’s confused expression. You’d think he’d just been accosted by a squirrel rather than merely touched by a beautiful woman. “She meant no harm, RedKnife.”
Instantly, RedKnife dropped his hand and his ever-present scowl returned. Shaken
“Angel,” Monroe corrected. “We call our mates angels.”
They stared at each other for a moment of companionable silence before Monroe exhaled loudly and rubbed the back of his neck. “You know about us now, Ms. Worthington, and I don’t think I need to tell you how dangerous things have just become for you. Please know that if you have any designs on betraying me or my kind,” he didn’t get to finish.
“You don’t have to threaten me, Mr. StoneCrow. As I said, I’m not dumb or blind. I understand well the consequences of crossing you or your Skin Walkers. I plan on getting back to work and performing my duties with the highest level of professionalism and discretion.”
Looking relieved, Monroe plowed a hand through his dark hair. “Now, I’ve just got to figure out where King disposed of that body. I can’t have this coming back to bite us. We don’t need that kind of attention.”
Lilly dropped her eyes and felt the first real pang of regret for what King had done for her. She didn’t regret the loss of a monster like RJ, but she didn’t want to bring any trouble to StoneCrow.
Monroe stood, dusting a fleck of lint off his impeccably tailored slacks. Today, as was typical for everyday, he wore dark dress slacks with imported Italian shoes, ever ready for the boardroom or TV interview. His white button-up shirt was tucked into his pants and a black tie hung down the front of his shirt, and was slightly unknotted. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to reveal thickly corded forearms.
Suddenly the door opened and Cindy Sambrano entered. The small female with short, dark, hair was a recent hire to the estate. Eventually, she’d work in the Crow’s Nest, the pub that would be on the penthouse floor. For now, she assisted with the kitchen staff, keeping the stream of constantly arriving employees fed.
Carrying a covered tray, Cindy entered and scanned the room for a table. Finding none, she wordlessly approached RedKnife and gripped his elbow with delicate fingers before sliding her hand down his thick arm to grab his wrist. Although her fingers didn’t come near to touching, she lifted his fist and used her small fingers to force his hand opened so that it rested flat, palm side up. She placed her tray on his hand before smiling up at him and whispered, “Can you hold this for a sec.” She was completely oblivious to the fact that everyone in the room had suddenly stilled, all eyes locked on her. Even Monroe tensed as he peered apprehensively at RedKnife’s dazed expression.
No one ever touched RedKnife KillsPrettyEnemy. No one! Hell, even his best friend, King Mulholland, had only ever brushed the lone Indigenous Walker a handful of times over the span of their decade’s long friendship.
Unaware of her faux paux, Cindy continued to remove items from the nearest bedside table before removing the tray from RedKnife’s hand and smiling at him appreciatively before giving him a friendly wink then bending to lay out silverware next to Lilly’s lunch.
“Thanks!” She whispered to RedKnife.
When the room suddenly darkened, all eyes—except for Cindy’s and RedKnife’s—shot to the window.
It was rumored, but as of yet unproven, that Indigenous Walkers could control the elements. No one was certain if the shifts in weather, that seemed to mimic RedKnife’s moods, were coincidence or not.
Monroe cleared his throat. “That’ll be all, Cindy.”
She nodded once then quietly exited the room.
RedKnife still stood with his hand palm side up in the air, as if unsure what had just happened. He looked mystified.
Monroe had to smirk at the poor Walker’s confused expression. You’d think he’d just been accosted by a squirrel rather than merely touched by a beautiful woman. “She meant no harm, RedKnife.”
Instantly, RedKnife dropped his hand and his ever-present scowl returned. Shaken
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