Page 114 of Sinner's Secret

“This is why you’ve been ordered to be an informant, to control the narrative?”

“No, I’m an informant for both sides, the police and the vampire community, but I’m biased in favor of the police. As long as the general knowledge of our existence isn’t on the verge of becoming public, I won’t be passing along anything of value to the vampires.”

“Why don’t you want to help the vampires?”

“They’re a bunch of obsessive/compulsive, paranoid assholes.”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “Most human beings are like that too, you know.”

“Yeah, but they haven’t had as much practice at being assholes as vampires have.” He kissed her neck again. “I’m on your side.”

That was enough for her. She yawned. “Okay, we’re team Nika and Baz.”

“We should get jerseys made,” he muttered. “After you’ve slept for a couple of days.”

“Sounds like fun,” she said, letting her body relax completely for the first time in far too long. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

“I’m not leaving your side until you’re back to work.”

“Yay.” It came out in a whisper as sleep covered her world in a warm, dark blanket.

The last thing she heard before diving into the darkness was Baz’s voice saying in a low rumble, “Love you.”

***

For two days, Nika mostly slept, catching up on rest. The bruises on her neck developed into a deep purple-blue color.

Baz hated the sight of them. They reminded him of the piss-poor job he’d done to protect her. He kept waiting for her to think about everything that had happened, and realize she wanted nothing to do with him and his massive amount of baggage.

Instead, she snuggled up to him at every opportunity.

Then on the afternoon of day two of Nika’s recovery, his mother showed up.

He opened the door after a polite knock, to find her standing on the top step in a perfectly tailored skirt suit, with her dark hair up in a complicated twist. Her makeup made her look like a normal. Her expression was that of a stone-cold killer.

The last time he’d seen her had been about ten years ago when she’d asked him to leave Slovenia. Then, disgust had twisted her face. Disgust at his living conditions, his lack of personal hygiene, and absence of any desire to become a contributing member of society.

Society, as far as he was concerned, was just a fancy name for a bunch of serial killers.

He had nothing to say to her, so he didn’t say anything.

They stared at each other for several seconds before Nika’s voice floated up from behind him.

“Who’s there?”

He grinned at his mother and said, “Some kind of door-to-door salesperson.”

His mother’s face got even colder. “Bazyli, is that any way to talk to your mother?” She made sure to say it loud enough for Nika to hear.

Nika walked up to him and put her hand on his back, a silent sign of support. “Hello,” she said in her cop voice. “Please come in.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Baz said, remaining where he was in the doorway.

“It’s better than talking out in the open,” Nika replied. “I think Smith has a car drive by the house every ten minutes or so.”

“Every five,” Baz corrected. “Some of them are unmarked cars.”

Nika snorted, but didn’t add anything more, walking further into the house.

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