The Wolf's Witch (book 1)

17. His Grapes Tickled

Kaitlin:

I slid past the large metal doors holding a box to my side as if it weren't important to me at all and walked down the hall. Luckily there was nobody around and I made it out the back doors without needing to fake politeness. This time Noah had come up short which meant I had to come back soon and risk possibly being caught. The deal had been I'd only have to pick up once a month but I understood it wasn't Noah's fault. The city was big and death was common but it wasn't always possible to guarantee a set amount of parts at a good enough quality as the hounds required for food. Not that I acknowledged that in front of Noah. I needed him to be a bit scared of me so I had left him with an unhinged warning he didn't deserve. A warning I didn't want to make but had to at the risk of death. I was bounded to the Queen and breaking it meant just that. Hiding from her wouldn't work. I'd die on the spot as my word and blood bound me to the promise. 

Things worked best when people were scared of me. When I kept them from getting too close. Noah had shared his story with me because he'd sensed I didn't want to do this as much as he didn't either. But there was no reason for me to open up to him. On the contrary. He was soft and young, only half-fae and chances were he wouldn't last long. The fae could easily swap him out for someone else. I'd arrive for the next pick up feeling at a total greater loss than I already did and pretend not to. I wasn't going to let myself get attached to him and set myself for heartbreak like that. 

Noah was cute. About my height, toned like me but not overly so with green eyes that wore his emotions way too clearly when I was around than I was comfortable with. He wanted a friend, someone to tell him that everything was going to be ok but that wasn't me. I couldn't lie to him. He reminded me too much of my brother back when we had hidden under the floorboards like mom and dad often forced us to practice doing so many times. Except that last time had been for real. That time I had known it had been for real. I had lied to my brother and told him everything was going to be ok. I known I'd been lying the moment I said it. I was twelve. What the fuck did I know? 

My brother Cyrus had nodded and tried to sniffle his tears away. When he failed to do so, he took the energy bar that mom had stashed for us off my hands when I offered it to him. I wasn't hungry but I knew he liked those bars. They were coated in chocolate and like his crying, the sound of the wrapper, would also be masked by the spell mom had set over us so long as she lived. 

I didn't need anybody else's death on my hands.

The only bright side was that these people we took from were already dead. I'd spent my first two months here confirming the fae hadn't been playing a role in killing them to up the number of deaths. 

Three more years. 

Fresh air hit my nose as I raced down the stairs. I felt eyes on me as I strutted to my truck. For a moment, I wished I could've stashed the box inside my truck but I knew that doing so would've resulted in them asking questions. With a sigh, I continued past it.

I was getting seriously tired of this. 

I lead them to a dark alleyway and allowed them to think they had me corned. I turned around and waited for them to reveal themselves. Did the werewolves already find out?

The first thing I noticed was their ages. The second was that there was more than there usually was following me and the third was that they were all males except for one.

"This is the witch?" one asked over his shoulder before regarding me once more, "What were you doing visiting the morgue this late?" 

I smiled at them the way Devlin had told me never to smile at fae. Roman had said something similar but his went more along the lines of instructing me to only smile at him that way. The vampire had too many screws loose.