“Is something wrong, Silas?”
“I don’t have a chair for you.”
“I don’t need a chair. I’ll stand.” I gestured to his seat. “Show me what you’ve found.”
“Not much so far.” The leather made a noise when he sat and tucked his feet beneath his bottom. “Mr. Thomas said you wouldn’t like having a partner.”
“I don’t typically work with a partner but I hear you’re good at what you do. Ben called you an asset—a genius, actually.”
His chest lifted, and I noted the smile that spread across his face. “I’m the fuckingbest.”
His cockiness was a direct contrast to his shyness. Much like his delicate features and innocent brown eyes were a contrast to the fact that he loved to watch people be murdered.
He was a bit of an enigma, and I knew before meeting him he’d fascinated me but I wasn’t quite prepared for how much.
“Mr. Thomas said I should call you Kingston but I want to call you Elijah. Can I do that, please?”
“Sure.”
He grinned as he reached for his keyboard. “Only your mother calls you Elijah. And now I do too.”
Hell.
I swept my hood off my head, leaning against the wall beside his desk. Arms across my chest, I peered down at him. “That’s not typically the information one would find in a background check.”
“Maybe that’s because I’m better at them than everyone else.”
“Exactly how much do you know about me, Silas?”
“I know a lot of things about a lot of people.” He looked at me then, and a whole host of emotions swept through his features before his face dropped. “You look mad. Are you mad at me, Elijah?”
“No.”
I was… unnerved.
My life was woven into a series of moments, buried at the back of mind with all the other memories I’d left there to die. My heart was somewhere there too, wilting away beside my consciousness and though the soldier in me didn’t love the idea that this boy was poking around in my personal life, the man in me couldn’t help but be curious.
Ben had called him deranged, but all I saw was innocence—a fucking kitten curled up in that oversized chair. I wondered what happened when he got truly feral, or how much blood was shed when his claws came out.
“I… I can pretend I don’t know stuff if you want me too.”
What a ridiculous fucking idea.
“You don’t have to censor yourself, Silas.”
My fascination with him wouldn’t allow that to happen. I wanted to know what was stored inside his mind—how it worked and what made it tick. I wanted to know what it was about murder that thrilled him and why he seemed to have an aversion to short socks.
“Do you want to show me what you’ve found so far?”
“Right. The mission.” He hunched forward, tugging his keyboard toward his chest. His fingers flew across that piece of plastic at a speed that left me stunned. “This is the original post threatening Mr. Thomas. Whoever made it used a VPN, which isn’t surprising. Only morons use public networks when hiring a hitman.”
His tongue swept his bottom lip.
“I found his IP through the VPN service but he has one hell of a firewall setup.”
“You’re saying he’s camouflaging himself?”
“Essentially, yes, but I’ll find him. I always do.”