Chapter Two
Carter
“When will she get here?” Kenyon popped something into his mouth—no doubt a sugary treat. Despite his age, he still ate like a child.
It was a good thing the Guild paid us well because if they didn’t, Kenyon’s food delivery budget alone would put us under.
“She’s supposed to get here at nine,” I told him for the fifth time in the last hour.
I doubted he’d really forgotten, but rather that the ADHD disaster couldn’t wait for more than a few minutes before his patience ran out and he had to check in again.
“Why don’t you go check to make sure her room is ready? ”
He huffed before trudging away.
Not that I could blame him.
As I worked on a stack of papers on the desk, sorting through the jobs that had come in to decide which we’d take on, my mind kept going back to her.
Yun Moore. Twenty-six years old. Rank-S guide. The few details in her file told me so little it was almost laughable. I didn’t care about what was in the file—that was only the Guild’s opinion of her.
It never told the true story.
That story sat in the shadows of her eyes, in the way she’d held herself back, in the truth that she’d never dare reveal willingly.
I blew out a breath and reminded myself I didn’t care.
Or, it was better to say I only cared as much as I had to in order to keep our squad registered and running. Anything else?
Not my circus. Not my fucking monkeys.
A crash from upstairs followed by a shouted “I’m fine” from Kenyon reminded me that I had my own monkeys and they were a fucking mess already. No reason to go looking for more problems.
Still, the fire in her eyes when she’d lectured me…
I’d gotten myself off twice last night to the memory. What the fuck was wrong with me? Why the hell was I into some little spitfire guide who refused to even hold hands during guiding? That was so not my type, and a mess not even worth getting close to.
Especially considering what she’d done to espers in the past.
That had me sitting back in my chair, letting it lean in a way I would suggest no civilian do. It balanced on two legs, and the slight adjustments that allowed it to remain perched that way eased my mind as I thought.
Guides had a slight defense, an ability to repel an esper with a short burst of energy, but it was intended as a way to shock an esper back into their right mind should they lose control.
I’d never before heard of one that could actually harm an esper.
It seemed impossible, and if it hadn’t been so well documented throughout her lifetime, I wouldn’t have believed it at all.
I’d have chalked it up to an old wives’ tale, to something meant to scare espers into behaving and keeping our grubby little hands to ourselves.
But too many instances of it existed for me not to believe.
Which meant I needed to ensure we watched ourselves around our little guide—it seemed she bit.
“You know, you’re not very observant for an esper.”
I frowned at the voice that seemed too real. My mind was pretty fucking amazing, wasn’t it?
Then, the very face of the woman I’d assumed I’d conjured up appeared above me, causing me to lose that precarious balance and topple to the floor. My head hit the hardwood, making me wish I’d gone with Kenyon’s idea for carpet.
She didn’t move—not to help me or apologize. Instead, she crossed her arms and stared down at me.
At least it gave me a nice look at her from an altogether new angle.
And she was rather pretty. She had pale skin and eyes so dark it was hard to tell iris from pupil. Her hair was black and fell to her shoulders, the strands with a slight wave in them. She was thin, her frame small, and fuck did she have contempt written all over her features.
Who knew that was my type?
“You’re early,” I said.
She turned her wrist, the screen of a smartwatch flashing to life. “No, I’m right on time. What sort of esper doesn’t notice someone walking into their office?”
I rolled over and got to my feet with the same slow lumbering I tended to use.
No reason to show how quick or agile I was—I preferred being underestimated.
It was the same reason why I spoke like a fool, so others let their guard down around me.
“Espers feel a draw to guides, but we also don’t view them as threats, which means our senses don’t always notice them.
” I lifted my eyebrow at the bag of groceries slung over her shoulder. “Did some shopping?”
She reached in and pulled out a package of…
Cookies.
The sight nearly had me laughing again. Leave it to this girl to entertain me, to show me amusement I hadn’t expected at all.
Her cheeks tinged pink. “Well, he did give me money for them.”
“He gave you a few hundred. That’s about ten dollars’ worth.”
She shrugged and tossed the cookies on the kitchen counter. “Consider the rest a delivery fee and tip.”
Which told me she could probably use the money.
Guides were taken care of—very well, for those who made their espers happy—but that didn’t mean they had it easy. Plus, given her responses before, I had to assume she wasn’t one of those babied ones who got gifts all the time.
“You travel light, don’t you?”
She frowned, no comprehension on her pretty face.
“You didn’t bring things to stay here. No clothing, no personal items. Girls need things like that.
” I waved my hand to encompass the multitude of things that women seemed to have to have.
We’d had a few female guides come, and they always showed up with ten bags—usually expecting us to carry them all.
She turned and hiked a finger over her shoulder, pointing at a backpack slung there.
A backpack that couldn’t have held more than a couple outfits—maybe.
“So is the rest of it in a car? Do we need to go get it?” Even as I asked, I ensured my voice sounded just as annoyed as I felt about the prospect of doing just that.
“This is it.”
Another thought hit me, even less pleasant. “Did you keep your Guild apartment because you don’t think this’ll last?”
Maybe the girl just didn’t want to move all her items for an arrangement she figured would fall apart quickly, anyway. I didn’t blame her for it, but it still bothered me. It was as though she’d written us off before we even got to try.
Sure, it was going to fail, that was obvious to anyone, but she didn’t have to act as though she knew it.
“This is everything I have,” she pressed, her brows inching toward each other as though she didn’t like the conversation. “I don’t have much.”
“Why not?”
“Why have more than I need?”
I frowned as I took in the one bag, which couldn’t possibly have enough clothes or goods for a person, right? It was good that we didn’t live in the cold, because a proper jacket sure as fuck wouldn’t fit in there.
Well, we got paid more than enough to get her anything she was missing. She’d have to accompany us on missions, after all, which meant if we got called away to Alaska or where-ever-the-fuck the Guild sent us, she’d need proper goods.
“I’m surprised you didn’t complain about staying here,” I pointed out instead of harping on her belongings—or lack thereof—anymore. “I figured you’d start talking about boundaries or something like that.”
“Believe it or not, I’m actually a competent guide. I know that staying close means I can offer better guiding, and not having to go far afterward is better for me.”
Because you’re going to be exhausted. That was the part she didn’t mention, but she didn’t have to. The reality was that if she refused any sort of physical guiding, then taking care of our squad was going to push her to her breaking point.
The reason for staying close often was that as guides and espers got more intimate, the odds that they’d end up having sex were almost hundred percent sort of thing. Living together made that all easier.
In her case, it was because she planned to run herself into the ground and didn’t want to drag her ass far to sleep when finished.
Which didn’t sit real well with me.
It was part of the whole esper thing, part of knowing that my life and sanity depended on guides, that I didn’t like to see one hurting.
Not my problem.
“Well, let me show you your room and do proper introductions.” I pushed away the thoughts, the questions, the unease. She just needed to do her job, and nothing else mattered.
The Guild would get off our asses and we could go back to our quiet little lives so long as this worked out. If we all knew where the others were coming from, if we accepted that this was strictly business, all the better for everyone.
I headed up the stairs, the soft strike of her sneakers against the steps telling me she followed.
I pointed at each door as we passed. “This is the bathroom, but each room has its own, too. This is Ingram’s room, here is Kenyon’s, mine, Shear’s, and yours is here.”
“Shear?”
“Right. He wasn’t there yesterday. Look, you’ll meet him at lunch today.” I figured that was the most that anyone needed to know at the moment. It was best not to push things too much by making her think about that nut job.
Instead, I went to open the door to her room, only to have it pulled out before I could get there. On the inside stood Kenyon, a huge, goofy grin on his face.
I was about to ask what he’d done—that smile said it was probably something that was going to annoy me—when I spotted a wad of towels on her bed.
What the fuck?
“It’s a swan,” Kenyon explained, gesturing with both his hands like he was some woman on a game show, his expression full of unearned pride.
And again, I was reminded that I was surrounded by idiots, even though by this point I should have grown used to it.
“It looks like a very sad blobfish,” Yun said before I could come up with anything.
Kenyon frowned, looking back at the atrocity. “Look, this is the body, this is the neck.” He set his hands on his hips, shoulders drooping. “It’s harder than the video made it seem.”
“Why would you even do this?” I asked.
“You said to get her room ready. I thought it would be welcoming, like at a hotel.”
“Is there candy on the pillow?” I rubbed my eyes as though that would take away the headache.
“It’s a chocolate.” He smiled like the dumbest six-year-old showing a horrible stick figure drawing to his mother. I’d met Kenyon’s mother—I knew damn well that she spoiled him, always had.
Even now, with him being a powerful esper who fought monsters for a living, his mother came over once a week to wash his socks.
It was her fault he was this stupid.
“Thank you,” Yun said, her tone implying she wasn’t sure what else to say, the inflection rising at the end as though it were a question.
Which was a pretty fair reaction to most of Kenyon’s antics.
“Go on,” I ordered with a finger toward the stairs. “Let her get settled in. We’re going to have lunch at noon, and we can get to know each other better then.”
Kenyon nodded, his jovial attitude undimmed by my direction. Ignorance really was bliss, which explained why his stupid ass was perpetually happy.
Once he left, Yun slid past me and into the room. I leaned my shoulder against the doorframe, giving her space. “This room is yours. None of us will enter it without your permission. If you need something, let me know and we’ll get it.”
She didn’t thank me, but I understood that.
The fact was that we didn’t do this out of the goodness of our hearts.
We weren’t offering her shelter and protection and whatever she needed because we were just that nice.
She was paying for it with her body, by guiding us, and I had no doubts that anything we spent or gave was a paltry repayment in return.
“You’ve got a few hours, so get settled in. Noon. Lunch.”
She nodded but said nothing else, so I shut the door behind me and let her be.
She was a necessary evil, a part of life for espers whether we liked it or not. In the end, after our little talk, I’d come to one conclusion for sure.
We were using each other, and in my experience, that made for the most dangerous and often best partnerships of all.