Keystone (Crossbreed #1)

When she lifted her shirt on the right side, I noticed a short handle and a black sheath against her belt.

Blue covered it up and sat back, crossing her legs and putting her arms over the back of the bench. “You either carry the guilt for your sins or you don’t. I do whatever I can to avoid bloodshed, but I still know how to protect myself. Just be sure you’re not doing it for pleasure, or you’ve crossed a line you might never return from.”

This conversation was treading into uncomfortable territory, so I quickly stood up and folded my arms. “Does your family know where you are?”

She uncrossed her legs and looked skyward. “If any of us had family, would we really be here?”

“Has anyone ever left Keystone?”

“We’re the originals,” she said. “I suppose someday, if we live that long, we’ll eventually want to leave. I can’t imagine that far off—this is the only future I see when I dream at night.”

“Why?”

She stood up and reached for a low branch. “For the same reason you’re still here. Viktor has a way of channeling our talents into something that’s helping people. Every criminal we take down is saving future lives.” Blue’s feet lifted off the ground as she swung. She laughed, looking up. “This old tree puts up with me, but one day he’s going to drop his limb on my head for tugging on him so much.”

“It might if you put enough weight on it.”

She set her feet on the ground. “Our cultures are so different. My tribe believes everything has an awareness of its surroundings. Has Niko told you that he can see most living things because of the energy?”

“Yeah, so?”

We strolled toward the veranda.

“Energy is a real thing. Plants don’t think the way we do because they obviously don’t have a brain, but on some level, they’re aware of positive and negative energy. They react to it. People who talk to their plants aren’t crazy. Some believe the extreme weather in this city is driven by all the Breed energy.”

“So if we all start singing happy songs, the sun will come out?”

She laughed and touched my shoulder. “You first. My voice could shatter windows. Do you want to hang out with me in the rock-climbing room?”

“Sure.”

Blue closed the doors behind us. “It’s one of my favorite things to do.”

Blue had a smooth, matter-of-fact way of speaking. I could sense the wisdom she must have acquired from her tribe, but she seemed to blend really well with the modern world considering she was a transplant. From what I knew, Shifter tribes were steeped in tradition and culture, often separating themselves from other Breeds. Where was her tribe now, and why wasn’t she with them?

“I need to speak with you,” Viktor said, approaching Blue and putting his arm around her. “It’s about a job.”

She peered over her shoulder and nodded at me as they walked off. The axe handle subtly bobbed against the side of her jacket, something I’d never paid attention to before. I couldn’t imagine why Blue would arm herself in the house, but it made me consider going upstairs and retrieving my weapons.

Despite all the amenities, I was confined to the property. Without a car or the city nearby, I couldn’t leave like everyone else. They all had something to do—assignments. Not that my status diminished what I’d already done for them, but it still left me wandering the halls aimlessly.

I jumped when a shirtless Shepherd emerged from the adjoining room, his body encased in sweat. He moved past me without a word, his muscles taut like a thoroughbred just after a race. I flicked a glance at a few scars on his chest.

Only two people in the house gave me nervous butterflies: Shepherd and Christian. Shepherd looked like a hardened man just released from prison. His dark eyes carried a haunting emptiness that I’d seen in my own reflection, except that his was too far gone, as if every sense of innocence and goodness had been stripped away from him. His buzz cut showed off rich, dark hair that matched his pensive eyebrows. He was over six feet of ripped muscle, with a warrior’s face and a penetrating gaze that could strike fear in anyone unfortunate enough to cross his path. Even the tattoo of a phoenix on his right arm and across his shoulder was intimidating. It spread across his chest and looked like it stretched to his back, but I didn’t turn around to watch him going.

Christian, on the other hand, was a Vampire. That alone earned him a spot on my “Do not trust” list. Most immortals spoke without a filter, but Vampires were cunning at masking their emotions with humor and indifference, when in truth they were plotting your demise. How does a man go from being a killer, to a bodyguard, and then back to hunting killers? Clearly Christian hadn’t quite figured his shit out.