Page 82 of An Oath at Midnight

Baby. “Yeah?”

“Look at me.”

I lifted my head.

“Do you have any questions about what you saw the other night,” he asked, his gaze searching mine.

I did. Several.

I slid my hand up his chest and lightly wrapped my fingers around his throat, like I’d be able to feel it, stop it if his oath kicked in and tried to choke him again. “How do you decide who to kill?”

“We don’t, we’re given targets,” he said, thankfully without any trouble.

“By who?”

“Pack heads, the witches council, others of all kinds. They call us when one of their own goes rogue and humans are involved. Maybe they can’t deal with it themselves, for some reason, or it’s too risky or dangerous. That’s when they hire us to do the job.”

“If the council didn’t know about our connection, do you think they would’ve called you and your brothers in to hunt for Willow?” I asked. “In their eyes, she’s a murderous witch out of control.”

“I don’t know. If humans were involved, then probably. But we don’t just kill because someone wants us to. We make sure they deserve to die before we end a life.”

“Do the people that hire you take the silencing oath as well?”

“Yes.”

“And you…you wanted to do it? Go after your targets?”

“Not at first, I tried to resist, but like I said, we’re more animal than human. Payne made sure I had no choice but to join the family business, because hunting is something we need and ignoring our animal instincts can be detrimental, it could turn us rogue or worse.”

“You could lose your mind if you don’t kill?”

“Yes.”

“And all crows are like that?”

“To an extent. Most are satisfied to hunt in the woods every now and then—animals, occasionally demons. Those of us who grow into the warriors of our race, the protectors of our people, are closer to our crows, to that base part of ourselves and we need the…outlet. This work gives us what we need to stay sane and healthy, provides our people with the money we need to thrive, and the humans stay safe.”

“But you could get hurt, worse.”

A dangerous-as-fuck look transformed his face. “Hunting and killing, we’re made for it, Mags. You don’t have to worry about me.”

What he’d said should probably worry or frighten me. It didn’t. Maybe it made me twisted, but instead heat bloomed low in my belly, a throb humming to life between my thighs.

Bram’s nostrils flared, and he made a low grunting growl sound, one that was totally animalistic.

“That sound, it’s your crow, yes?”

He nodded and licked his lips.

“What does it mean?” All the sounds they made had their own meaning. He’d explained that to me a long time ago. I thought I’d heard all his sounds until now.

“It means I can smell how wet you are right now, and my crow is pleased,” he rasped.

I wasn’t embarrassed. I wanted him to know how much I wanted him. I couldn’t give him all of me, not yet, but I at least wanted him to know my body did even if my mind was fucking with me. I pressed my mouth to his. “And the sound you made in the shower?”

“When I made you come?” he asked, voice gritty as hell.

“Yes.” I lifted my head, looking down at him.