Dunno where you are or when you’ll get this message, but I’m looking for you and I need to talk to you. I have a job for you and you kind of have to take it.”
I made a face. Justin was a Banner cop now. They’d seduced him with the promises of You get to kill things and we’ll give you lots of weapons. He liked weapons almost as much as I did. And he liked killing things…well, when they needed killing. Justin was like a loaded gun, a good weapon and he was most efficient when he had a target.
“Call me, set up a time, Kitty-kitty. Don’t make me track you down, okay? You really do have to take this job…trust me.”
I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck.
Trust him. That was a problem. I did trust Justin. There weren’t a lot of people I was willing to say that about but he was definitely one of them.
The message ended and I sat there, staring at nothing.
I trusted him, but I sure as hell didn’t want to take any job that he might have to offer.
Jobs and Justin meant one thing. A connection to the Banner unit. The Banner units were exterminators. Non-human exterminators. Banner cops, slang for the Bureau of American Non-Human Affairs–were basically men and women like Justin, highly skilled, very deadly human who went out and eliminated the NHs who had been deemed too deadly to live. Generally, they didn’t get to play much because us non-humans patrolled our own. That was the job the packs, the clans, the order of witches and the Assembly in general. But sometimes there were those who slipped past the ever-watchful eyes of the Assembly.
Sometimes there were those the Assembly turned a blind eye to and the Banner cops stepped up to the plate.
If Justin was calling me, it was entirely likely that he wanted my help in tracking somebody down.
Damn it all to hell.