A chuckle sounded behind her and a kid, not much more than Inessa's age, strolled out from one of the many doorways that lined the foyer.
"Hedgehog."
Annoyed, I stacked my hand on my hips. "Look, I don't know what's going on here—"
"Good. Is not your business," Amara said with a sniff before she stepped back and grabbed the guy's hand. "Mine," she told me before she stuck up her nose.
"AKA Quin," the kid drawled, holding out his other hand as easily as he grinned at Amara's declaration.
"Can I touch you or will she bite me?"
Amara snapped her teeth. "I do bite. But only bitches. You bitch, but you help. I like."
Quin whistled as I shook hands with him. "First, she talks about animals, and then there’s an admission of liking. Youareblessed."
This was a warm welcome?
Now I knew why Lodestar had just passed along the information Amara had helped her uncover without letting me talk too much to her.
Mostly, I'd listened in on their conversations over Skype, typing out questions that I didn't think Lodestar was covering.
Amara was as prickly as the aforementioned hedgehog and clearly nuttier than a pecan pie.
"What is hedgehog?" Amara demanded after she purposely grabbed my hand and Quin's and separated them.
Quin just rolled his eyes, evidently accustomed to her possessiveness.
"I'm married, you know?" I refused to wince as her fingers had dug into my tennis bracelet as she disconnected our hands.
She shrugged. "Married women, single women, they all have eyes. Look at his face."
Quin shot me a sheepish glance. "You'd think we were Michelangelo's creations the way she goes on."
'We.'
That was right. Amara lived with two guys.
An unusual living situation for many, but more so considering Amara's traumatic past.
Trafficked from Ukraine, sold into sexual slavery, and left to die in a pit that would have been an atrocity to cage animals there, never mind humans...
"Prettier than statue," was all Amara had to say to that before she asked, "What is hedgehog?"
"Hamster with spikes. Remember?"
I snorted at the description.
"Spikes," she repeated. "Points. Little. Goes to ball when scary."
"When it's scared," Quin corrected easily, curving his arm around her shoulders. "What do you think?"
It took me a couple seconds to realize he was asking me that question, not Amara.
"About what?"
"Hedgehog or cat?"
"What about them?" I demanded impatiently.