Buku B&CM03 – Cross My Path by Simon Clea
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B&CM03 – Cross My Path by Simon Clea

Author:Simon, Clea [Simon, Clea]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Tags: cThriller

ISBN: 9781780109657

Google: PNhjDwAAQBAJ

Publisher: Severn House Publishers Ltd

Published: 2018-06-30T22:00:00+00:00

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B&CM03 – Cross My Path by Simon Clea

FIFTEEN

The girl is strong, as am I for my kind and size, but she is young, while I am far older than I may seem. By the time she stops running, throwing herself against a wall, her chest heaving, I am exhausted. Not only am I panting, but my leg is aching. I walk gingerly, barely placing any weight on it as I take the last few steps to join her. She stands doubled over, with her hands spread out on her thighs, but I let her see me, passing beneath her as I rub my head against one warm shin.

‘Blackie, thank God.’ The hand that reaches for me is trembling. ‘When that big guy grabbed you …’ She doesn’t continue, only slides down the wall to a seated position. I move closer, leaning into her warm and fragrant side. She drapes one arm gently around me. For the moment, we are at peace.

 

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B&CM03 – Cross My Path by Simon Clea

Author:Simon, Clea [Simon, Clea] , Date: June 28, 2019

,Views: 10

Author:Simon, Clea [Simon, Clea]

Language: eng

Format: epub

Tags: cThriller

ISBN: 9781780109657

Google: PNhjDwAAQBAJ

Publisher: Severn House Publishers Ltd

Published: 2018-06-30T22:00:00+00:00
FIFTEEN

The girl is strong, as am I for my kind and size, but she is young, while I am far older than I may seem. By the time she stops running, throwing herself against a wall, her chest heaving, I am exhausted. Not only am I panting, but my leg is aching. I walk gingerly, barely placing any weight on it as I take the last few steps to join her. She stands doubled over, with her hands spread out on her thighs, but I let her see me, passing beneath her as I rub my head against one warm shin.

‘Blackie, thank God.’ The hand that reaches for me is trembling. ‘When that big guy grabbed you …’ She doesn’t continue, only slides down the wall to a seated position. I move closer, leaning into her warm and fragrant side. She drapes one arm gently around me. For the moment, we are at peace.

I listen to her breathing, as we sit there. I hear it slow and become regular, and I wonder, briefly, if she will sleep. The girl is not a cat, capable of taking her rest where she may, but the times and their usage have had their effect, and she is accustomed to living rough. Still, the child is vulnerable by nature of her size and gender. We have come to rest in an alley, tucked just off the main road. We were not pursued; those men were not built for the long hunt or for stealth. That does not mean we are safe. The girl shifts, her head coming to rest on the arms crossed over her knees. I extend my game leg and begin to groom.

Soon my fur is spotless, nearly pitch black in the shade. The slight variance over my limb, where the hide below has scarred, smooth enough so that it would barely shimmer blue-black in the light. But the sun has already begun its decline, and I see now that the girl has chosen wisely, sheltering in the lee of this building, as its shadow darkens and grows toward night.

She should stay here, I decide, as comforted by that thought as by the rough rasp of my tongue. Rest and consider what steps are best to next take. She is a smart girl and has been well trained, as far as that went. But the intemperance of youth, as well as her early emancipation, has resulted in a rashness that I am ill equipped to counter. Her questioning of the man Peter, for example, was slipshod, and in her haste, she missed an opportunity. Yes, she picked up on his knowledge – that he seemed to be aware that his colleague had been taken as a kind of threat. But she went off on a tangent and did not pursue the most pressing questions. Who took the youth Rafe, and why? And the most crucial of all: what did this have to do with the man’s engagement of her services? It seems quite obvious that he was sent to her.

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