Kane lived in the basement of a converted townhouse in a quiet neighborhood. The light of his room was off, but I knew he was home because he had been playing a game online until ten minutes ago while texting me how sorry he was and how he’d make it up to me. And also if I was really sure Sullivan wouldn’t be paying the finder’s fee.
I should be home, licking my bruises and preparing my new treasure-hunter-Institute-or-not life plans.
But some things, like revenge, were worth putting your life on hold.
The Eye-hound snorted by my shoulder, its breath warm in the cold air of the night.
I still had no idea of what I had traded in exchange for activating his eye, but he had been somewhere in the periphery of my senses all through our trip out of the basement and whenever I went by a patch of spring greenery, as if its business with me wasn’t finished.
So there we were: me, the Eye-hound, a few bushes in the house’s yard, and Kane the Jerk II.
“No eating,” I told the beast. “No killing, no gnawing, no mauling. I’ll allow some licking.”
He made a content noise before his presence disappeared from my side.
A minute later, a scream tore through the house.
I cackled.