Page 36 of Shadow Blind

The cat rolled and shook off the towel. Claws skittered against the glass table's surface as it fought to get its remaining legs beneath it. Demi winced as it leaped off the table and raced wildly across the living room, disappearing down the hall. No doubt it was diving under the guest bed, its favorite hiding place.

At least its injuries didn’t look infected—which was a relief considering her failure at getting the antibiotics into him. The vet had suggested injecting the medicine into the wet food, but the wily animal refused to eat the laced meal.

She’d bought a travel cage for the cat’s trip home from the clinic. But the vet had recommended keeping the animal contained to force rest and promote healing. So, she’d also bought a dog crate big enough to accommodate a cat bed, litter box, and bowls for water and food. The furry asshole destroyed the entire ensemble in under an hour. Hell’s bells, there had been water, wet kitty litter, and cat food everywhere. It even broke the welding on the cage and bent the metal until it could squirm its way through the bars.

She hadn’t tried to contain it after that. The effort it put into escaping the cage was more likely to cause injury than hiding under the guest room bed. At least when it was loose, it settled down. Plus, it was eating and drinking and using the litter box.

Returning to the kitchen, she retrieved the stopper from the floor and screwed it back onto the medicine bottle. She’d give the heathen some time to decompress and try again—no doubt adding to her collection of bloody scratches.

She glanced across the kitchen counter when her cell phone vibrated against the granite. Kait lit up the screen. Setting the bottle down, she picked up her phone.

“Hey, Kait, your timing is perfect.” She lifted her still-steaming cup of Colombian coffee and breathed in the full-bodied fragrance of citrus and spice. “The furry little maniac is back in hiding. I have about an hour before I have to offer my skin and blood in sacrifice to his continued good health.”

“It’s not Kait.” Aiden’s flat baritone made that instantly clear. “Skin and blood? Sacrifice? What the hell…?” his voice trailed off as if he didn’t know where to start with his questions.

“Aiden?” Demi straightened hard, bobbling her cup. Some of the coffee slopped over the edge, landing on her hand. She winced as the hot liquid sank into the healing scratches.

“Listen,” he sounded tense. “We don’t have much time.”

“Time for what?” Demi narrowed her eyes, the scratches forgotten. “Why are you on Kait’s phone?” Was he with Kait? He must be. That was the only way he’d have access to his sister’s phone.

She didn’t know where Kait lived these days. The location was a big mystery. She wondered sometimes if all the secrecy was necessary, but considering what Kait’s husband had gone through with the US government along with that rogue, ultra wealthy secret society—yeah, she could see where Cosky was jittery when it came to their safety.

“I’m on Kait’s phone because you pick up for her.” She heard frustration in his voice, before he took an audible breath. “I’ll explain everything in person.” His tone was measured.

Demi’s spine snapped straight in annoyance. “I told you. I’m not flying off to—”

“Two men dressed in Navy whites are headed to your door.” Aiden barreled over her comment, his voice tightening. “They’re not with the Navy. They’re not from ST7. They’re not who they will claim to be. They’ll probably tell you I’m hurt, or dead.”

Startled, she pulled the phone away to look at it, which was ridiculous. The blank screen wouldn’t tell her if he was joking. “Why would they tell me you’re hurt? Or dead?” She paused, her brow furrowing. He obviously wasn’t dead. But… “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. They’ll try to grab you and use you to flush me out.” Aiden’s voice went faint for a moment, as though he turned away from the phone. “You need to distract them. Delay them, but without setting them off. Keep them busy until Tag and Tram get to you. Pretend to believe everything they tell you. Don’t push them. If they get antagonistic, then do whatever they say.”

Her stomach tightened. “What’s going on, Aiden?” Her voice rose. “Why are these people trying to flush you out?”

How much danger was he in?

How much danger was she in?

A beat of silence fell, and then he sighed. His slow exhale sounded weary, almost morose.

“The last op my squad was sent on was a setup,” he said quietly. “I’m the only one of my team to survive. Now the bastards behind my crew’s murder want to chat with me. Find out why I survived. They’ll try to use you to get to me.”

Demi’s heart stuttered as horror gripped her. He’d lost his entire team? That couldn’t be right. “Squirrel? Grub? Lur—”

“Dead. All dead.” His devastation showed in his voice. The blank emptiness of it.

She choked back her sympathy. He obviously didn’t want to talk about his loss. “Who set you up?”

“That’s unclear.” His tone tightened. “We don’t have time for twenty questions. They’ll be knocking on your door any minute.”

Which just reminded her of another question.

“How do you know they’re on their way up to my door?” Maybe he was wrong, overreacting or something—although she’d never known Aiden to overreact.

“They were sighted going into your building.” Another beat of silence, followed by the most measured tone of voice yet, as though he knew she wouldn’t like what he was about to say. “I’ve had eyes on you for the last four days. But someone reported my surveillance team to the cops and got them locked down. The point guy got a message to Tag before the whole fucking lot of them were rounded up by COPD.”

The first part of that announcement hit hard. So hard, she barely heard the second part.

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