CHAPTER NINETY THREE

Steelbeak was not one to be bothered by concepts like karma. He'd never been all that infatuated with the idea of perpetually living in fear that whatever bad things he'd done would come back to kick him in the butt -- or worse.

But after the week he'd had, Steelbeak was starting to lose faith in his non-karmic belief system. It was entirely possible -- of course -- that he was overdue for bad times simply because that's the way life worked. He just couldn't shake the feeling like this bad week was more than just the errant, random crappy week.

Perhaps it was because everything started sliding downhill when Gabriel re-entered his life. And that coincided with Tegwen's reappearance in it, too. Most people might think that tying those two events and the two women together was downright paranoia and coincidence. Up until then, Steelbeak was counted among those people.

Not so much anymore. It frustrated him that he couldn't even explain this gut instinct. For that, he decided he would blame the blonde; it seemed like the sort of bizarre occurrence he could pin on her.

He genuinely wanted to dismiss it but when Gabriel's behavior changed so drastically and for no apparent reason at all, doing so became impossible.

It probably didn't help matters any that his last date -- something he could hardly categorize as one, anyway -- was with Gabriel. And that didn't end the way his dates typically did, for which he was certain he was grateful. That would have been a dreadful mistake.

Then, of course, the utterly inflaming topic of Tegwen, with whom his partner has suddenly struck a friendship.

Steelbeak couldn't stop thinking about her. Even when in the middle of something that demanded all his attention and concentration, his thoughts would ultimately betray him and wander back to focusing on Tegwen.

The little girl -- she'd been little at the time, or at least he thought she seemed that way -- was the only witness to the double murder he'd committed about two years back. She'd gotten away before he could silence her, too, just in case she decided to play the vigilante and go to the police.

Popping up in his life, it seemed she was taunting him with this knowledge, her mere presence a threat to turn him over to the authorities. He hated her for reminding him of a night he'd just as soon forget, a decision he'd never been particularly thrilled with or the least bit proud of.

Worst yet was that she clearly and openly detested him. Of course she would! She watched him do the unthinkable.



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