A Hunters Prey

Chapter 2: Sisterhood

My keys jingled in my pocket as I unlocked the door to my apartment, and stepped inside. Too lost in my own line of thoughts to notice how something was instantly off, dropping them in the marble bowl, I shrugged off my jacket.

"Mau! Come here!" I shouted whilst shrugging off my jacket, and I waited for the fat cats arrival. Having pets wasn't something generously advised but we were allowed them, after graduation. I didn't want one but Ingrid decided one would be a good gift, "Mau!"

When I was met with silence, my hand instantly moved for the gun attached the underside of the table by the door. A silent curse traveled through my mind when I found that it had already been moved; which could only mean that someone was in here.

Reaching back into my waistband, I pulled out the small blade strapped against my back as I waited for the sound of the jingle from the Bengal's belled collar. Anticipation deflated inside me when it suddenly traveled through the air, and a fat puff of fur appeared in the kitchen doorway.

"You named your cat Meow?" A strong voice shattered the silence, and my reflexes took hold.

Suddenly, the blade in my hand was flying through the air and stabbed through a sugar jar beside no other than Callan Hastings, who stood casually at my kitchen island. Shock radiated through me at the sight of him, had I not seen enough of him before for one day!?

He looked so out of place in here. Dressed in his familiar black combat boots and a grey sweater that clung to his chiseled chest provocatively, his height seemed to dwarfed the room even though I had already high ceilings.

"How did you get in here?" I demanded, staring at the pile of weaponry displayed on the island's marble surface. He had collected every gun, blade, and sedative I had hidden throughout my house, "What are you doing here?"

Mau leaped up onto the counter beside him and nuzzled into his chest, making my frown deepen. What a traitorous cat! Callan didn't look like he minded about the way the cat basically dragged himself across his body, and even lifted her up to his chest.

"Last time I saw you, your name was Emily." Callan announced pulling out a stool to sit on, clearly comfortable in his surroundings. I wondered how long he had been here for, some of those weapons were hidden very well, "You know, I always wondered who you really were."

My guards were risen high and strong as I stood across with him, "That's why you're here?" I found myself asking in astonishment, "I was doing my job! You can understand that."

Callan was an operative himself, something I had only recently discovered. It made me wonder how he had never caught me out when I was watching over him, although I did pretty much play my role as Emily Paulson to perfection.

All I had been was a new face in a bar Callan stopped by regularly, enough times for him to notice me anyway. Finding my way into his personal life wasn't hard but I guessed that he allowed me in, all I needed was one step and I could make the rest of my way in.

Which is what I done.

"What were you looking for?" Callan asked, refusing to break his gaze away from mine. There was a time when I could have drowned in it but now I knew better, "I mean, you done a very thorough investigation."

Giving him an unamused side glance, I leaned against the wall closest to the doorway, "That's classified." I stated without batting a lash, and he arched a strong brow at me, "What? You thought that guilt would make me tell you?"

"I already know why." Callan smirked with a shrug of his broad shoulder, and I didn't question it. Not caring if it were the truth or not, either way, it didn't really effect me, "This house if different from Emily's; it's soulless."