North steps to my side, waiting for the answer with me. Andrew eyes him. “We need a minute.”
North scowls and looks to argue, but his newbie status, or wimpy backbone, perhaps both, has him backing out of the room. Now certain this call to aid was more serious than a sibling command, I wait about twenty seconds to give space between us and North, and then ask, “What is it?”
His expression tightens. “You need to see this.” He’s holding the refrigerator door and somehow I’m certain he’s about to ruin my taste for Cheetos or anything resembling food, for at least tonight.
I close the space between me and him, and always the drama boy, he pauses before he opens the door he says, “If you doubted this was about you, doubt no more.” He opens the door and sitting on the top shelf is a jar of blood that has a label on it that reads, “Lilah Love.” Not Agent Love, but Lilah Love. This isn’t just about me. It’s personal.
CHAPTER NINE
“Well, isn’t that polite,” I say dryly, picking up the jar to look for any further markings, and glancing at Andrew. “It’s labeled with my name and everything. There’s a reason they call me Special Agent Love. I guess I really am special.”
“Lilah,” Andrew bites out, his voice low, taut.
“Andrew,” I reply, setting the jar down and shooting a photo.
Of course, the jar of blood is from Pocher. He’s alive. He’s angry. He’s trying to fuck with my head and probably Kane’s as well. And the appropriate response to such a gift would be fear and shock, which he no doubt expected from me. He too easily forgets, or perhaps has yet to learn, that I am not appropriately anything. Ever. It’s not by intention, either. I was just born this way. And so was Kane.
“Damn it, Lilah,” Andrew snaps. “What is this?”
“Pig’s blood,” I say, speaking of the blood in the jar when he’s, of course, speaking far more broadly. “Test it and confirm I’m right, but I’d bet my favorite red heels that used to be Mom’s, and I really love those heels.” I turn and start walking.
“Damn it, Lilah, wait,” he bites out.
“Damn it, Lilah” seems to be on autoplay, thus it becomes less effective. “Wait.”
I don’t wait.
The answers we need won’t be found in this house. After seeing that blood, I know better. They’re with Pocher, who Kane might not be willing to kill, but I damn sure am, and tonight sounds like the night to me. Find him. Kill him. End this hellish cycle of him killing people once and for all. He’s a serial killer of a whole different breed than Roger and no bars will ever hold him. He’s too powerful.
I charge through the house, intent on getting out of here before I’m stopped when North is suddenly in my path. He doesn’t want to be in my path right now. Not when I’d bet those red heels all over again that he’s on Team Pocher.
“Lilah, damn it,” Andrew calls out roughly again, and it’s right then that North’s attention shifts to my right, where Andrew has appeared.
“Chief,” he says, sidestepping, and then he’s in Andrew’s path. He gets brownie points for saving me. Since he’s dirty, that won’t get him far with me, but it gets me the hell out of here.
By the time I’m back in my coat, and have removed my gloves and booties and stepped back into the cold snow and wind, I’ve calmed down enough to know that killing Pocher, at least right now, is a fantasy. Besides, I’m not an assassin that hunts and kills people. That’s not how I kill, that’s not who I am, no matter how Roger made me doubt myself, I know it’s not, but this man, Pocher, makes me want to make an exception.
I exit the house, the cold, crisp air a welcome blast of relief. Already logic finds me. I have Pocher on the brain right now. Nothing about this case reads like a Pocher setup. The pig’s blood was in the news. The Umbrella Man was in the news. Even I was in the news. I need to calm the fuck down and think like Special Agent Love not someone who hates Pocher.
I’m down the steps of the house, with snow falling like rain, my hood up, when Andrew catches up with me, still pulling on his coat, a brown ugly thing that looks like some kind of new animal breed. “Lilah. Stop walking now or I will forcefully make you.”
Growling low under my breath, I turn to face him. “Do you really want to find out how well that will go for you, Andrew? I’m guessing I can protect myself better than you can muscle me.”
He holds up his hands. “You’re a part of this case whether you like it or not. And that wasn’t my doing. It had your name all over it, quite literally.”