Page 41 of Shadow Blind

“Ms. Barnes, we don’t have time—”

“Oh! No!” She stopped abruptly, filling her voice with dismay. “Trident has a vet appointment today.”

“You can cancel it on the way.” Impatience rang in Stick Man’s voice. “Winchester could die at any moment. You don’t have time to dally.”

“Aiden will never forgive me if his little warrior got sick. He loves that cat. He was furious with me when Trident snuck out of the complex and he got hit by that car.” She turned around and widened her eyes, hoping they looked full of entreaty instead of terror. “Can you help me get him in his carrier? He can be a little rascal sometimes.” Make that a complete asshole. “But with your help, I’m sure we can get him corralled and into his carrier in record time.” Both men’s gazes dropped to her scratched up arms and widened in alarm.

“We really can’t afford the time—”

“I’m not leaving without Trident. Who knows how long I’ll be sitting by Aiden’s bed. Trident can’t be home by himself. He needs daily doses of anti-inflammatory medicine and antibiotics. We can drop him off at his vet on the way to the hospital. They’ll take care of him while I’m with Aiden.” When neither man looked thrilled with this prospect, she doubled down. “I’m not leaving without him.”

Muscle Man’s eyes turned the color of mud. Deadly threat laced the brown irises. Stick Man just looked calculating.

She forced steel into her spine and faced them down. She needed to get her overlord into his travel carrier. Trident, which appeared to be his name now, actually did need his daily medications and care. She couldn’t leave him behind, nor could she imagine Aiden bringing her back to the condo to pick the animal up. But with some help from these two assholes, she’d have the demon safely locked in his travel cage by the time Tag showed up. When she escaped, the cat would come with her.

Down the hall came the murmur of voices. The fake Navy guys glanced down the corridor. Tension flashed across their faces. Muscles bunched in their arms. She tensed, certain they were about to leap at her, shove her backwards, then follow her into her condo. Which meant this charade of theirs would be over. God only knew what action they’d take then.

Acting on instinct, she leaned out the doorway and peered down the hall. Megan and Elise, her neighbors across the hall two doors down were headed her way.

“Megan! Elise!” She waved, catching their attention.

The fake priest swore beneath his breath. The guy was a terrible actor. A real priest wouldn’t swear like a sailor. He glanced at his crony. Stick Man offered a slight shake of his head and the two men blocking her door eased back a couple steps.

Megan and Elise picked up their pace when they saw the two men dressed in Navy whites. Alarm touched their faces—which still sported scabby scratches from their encounter with Trident four days ago.

“Hey.” Megan peered at Demi’s face. “Is everything alright?”

“Aiden’s been hurt.” Demi forced the lie out. It felt wrong to lie to her friends like this, even if the lie was for a good reason.

“Actually,” Stick Man turned, flashing the women behind him a mortician’s smile, “Ms. Barnes is needed at Aiden Winchester’s bedside, but she’s worried about her cat. Apparently, it needs medication? Perhaps you two would be good enough to take care of the animal while she’s gone.”

The concern on Megan’s face collapsed into alarm. She took a huge step back and sidled to the right.

“I’m so sorry, Demi, but we have a…a…thing. In fact, we’re headed out of town ourselves.” She slid a meaningful look in her wife’s direction, who nodded emphatically. “If it were any other time, but—” Megan shrugged apologetically and turned, rushing down the hall like the Grim Reaper was behind her with a raised scythe.

“I hope Aiden pulls through,” Elise offered, before turning and hurrying after Megan.

Demi didn’t blame them for their hasty retreat. Trident had leaped for their faces, barely missing their eyes, when they’d helped her administer the medication the morning after she’d brought the cat home.

Frustration flashing across his hang-dog face, the mortician wannabe turned back to her. “We really need to leave now, Miss Barnes. I’ll send one of Aiden’s teammates back to care for the cat. If you’ll—”

Ignoring him, Demi turned, marching down the hall between her front door and the living room. They wouldn’t shoot her while Megan and Elise were within earshot. “Look, the longer you argue, the longer this will take. I’m not leaving without Trident.”

A whispered conversation broke out behind her. She was halfway across the living room when she heard muffled footsteps follow her. Now that they had her alone, with no witnesses, would the two men continue with this pretense, or would they launch into threats and fists to force her to leave with them? Her head went light at the possibility.

Her heart galloping, she rushed down the hall and into the spare bedroom. She closed the bedroom door behind her, more to keep the animal contained than her would-be kidnappers out.

“Miss Barnes?” Stick Man’s voice came from outside the bedroom door.

“In here,” Demi shouted back.

There was no use hiding her location. She needed her would-be kidnappers’ help to get Trident into his carry case. It had taken three veterinary assistants to get him into the cage when she’d retrieved him from the clinic. He was smart enough to remember that incident and do everything possible to avoid a repeat.

“Close the door so he doesn’t get out,” Demi said when the two killers, with their fake smiles, stepped into the room.

She grabbed the kennel by its handle, lifted it from the bed, and pushed it into Stick Man’s arms. He took it reluctantly, with deep revulsion, like helping her with the cat was far below his paygrade.

“Trident is under the bed.” She picked up the fleece blanket that was lying next to the cat carrier.

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