Belladonna's Curse by E M Whittaker

Author:E M Whittaker [Whittaker, E M]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

6

The next morning, Mye swore she’d strangle Peters with barbed wire as she slouched in her borrowed bus seat.

She didn’t use the bus often, but Jet’s gas tank was almost empty. Payday didn’t come until next week. While Charm City’s commuters kept to themselves and shuffled along the streets, they could hear themselves think wherever they walked.

Unlike her. She got stuck with an infernal earpiece she couldn’t remove.

No. Agent Neuro never answered his goddamn phone. He never returned her phone calls, either. He paged her using an antiquated device meant for the 90’s. For movies. For the preppy office worker of shitty secret spy missions.

Shifters didn’t need earpieces. They were worse than wearing her boss’s tracking bracelet.

At least her bracelet didn’t whine or bitch when she missed a deadline. It beeped. She could handle beeps and countdown timers. At least she understood the consequences if she failed a mission. Not that Captain Neuroticism would know the difference. He kept himself so hyped on coffee and energy drinks he’d die of a heart attack one day.

Mye bit her cheek.

His death couldn’t come soon enough.

Their only buffer finally returned to work—Travis. He helped. Of course, his snide quips about her recklessness left something to be desired, but he listened to her. He didn’t treat her like the devil’s hell spawn. He respected her.

Shawn Peters couldn’t be a human.

The whiny weasel complained about everything.

She leaned against the window and sighed when the bus stopped and let off more passengers. Only one more stop. Then she’d arrive at her shop. Once she arrived, she’d interrogate Lim. His behavior—along with his migraine—didn’t add up last night.

Peters started on a new tirade.

Once again, she wrapped her hands around the plastic handle of the seat as if she could strangle him. Christ. Why did the deities pair them together? They had nothing in common. Nothing. That pencil-pusher manipulated everyone to get his way. He sold out his partners while she protected them.

She couldn’t use someone like him. He was unreliable—even with his unique skillset.

She’d arrange an accident soon enough.

“Mye, did you hear me?”

Of course, she did. How couldn’t she hear the miserable cretin? The man lived to hear his own voice. God bless whoever married that poor bastard.

At some point, Travis made coffee, but then he stayed silent.

Her partner had the right idea.

“Yes.” She clenched her teeth and kept her voice low. “If I didn’t lower the volume, I think everyone on the goddamn bus could hear your pubescent whining. I can’t really talk if you get my drift.”

Peters paused for a few blissful seconds. Then his indignant tone returned. “Since when do you take public transportation?”

When? Since he demanded she keep a low profile. Perhaps His Royal Highness forgot that small detail. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he asked to get a rise out of her.

“You asked me to.” She grabbed the plastic handle behind a seat and squeezed it until it cracked. “I try to listen sometimes, you know.”

“Since when?” His tone projected boredom. “You thrive on disobeying orders.

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