Judy switched off the sewing machine she'd brought up from the basement, folding the half-finished skirt and setting it next to her on the window seat. She and Nick had been the only ones from school to show up at Eric's funeral last month, and he'd only gone because she had begged him to.

You're letting it happen again.

She shook her head. This was nothing like what had happened with Raúl, or with Andy. Eric's death had been completely beyond her control. She ground the heels of her palms into her eyes, telling herself that more crying wouldn't solve anything. She shoved out a breath, then turned to the window, the smallest ghost of a smile touching her lips when she saw Nick in the driveway, waving her down. She waved back, then hurried to meet him, throwing herself in his arms.

"How have you been holding up?" his voice vibrated softly through her. She pressed her face closer to his chest, her fingers tightening on his shirt. His low sigh ghosted across the top of her head.

"That was his choice, you know," he said softly. "It wasn't your fault."

"I-I know," she sniffled, then pulled back and wiped her eyes, taking a small, shuddering breath. "Um, why the drop-by?"

He put a hand on the hood of his car.

"I remembered a promise I made a while ago," he flashed a small smile. "I never got to show you around."

Judy looked at the sky. It was clear, warmer than it had been in weeks, and it would do a lot more than staying locked up in her room. She wiped her eyes again, then attempted a smile.

"Okay, let's go."

The town was smaller than she'd thought, barely twenty square miles, and the ferry was the only way to reach the island. Her kidnapping had led to the council voting to seal off the mine and known airshafts, natural or not.

"Lance's family discovered the silver," Nick explained, keeping his eyes on the road. "We built the town while they took care of the mine."

"I read about that in one of the guidebooks you can get at the dock," she ran a hand down her ears. "When did the silver run out?"

He rubbed the extra scruff on his chin.

"Some time in the twenties," he barely made it through a yellow light. "After that, they handled exports and stuff."

He finished off the water bottle stashed in his cupholder and tossed it in the back.

"They tried being a crime family in the forties," his teeth flashed in a smirk. "But we took them out pretty fast."

She looked at him.

"You mean your Italian family was part of the mob? Isn't that kind of cliche?"

He snorted, turning onto the dirt road that bordered the town. Judy sat back, her gaze flicking between him and the way ahead. He pulled into a small parking lot, a gray brick path at the end leading through a stand of slender trees with twisting branches and bright red leaves.

"They're red dragon maples," he said before she could ask, flashing a smile as he climbed out of the car. He dropped his keys in his shirt pocket. "If you want to find out where we are, you'll have to follow me."

The path passed under a carved wooden sign, branching through shrubs painted with a rainbow of flowers. Green stalks of bamboo ran along a short wood fence, a red bridge crossing a clear stream flashing with koi. A slender old serow in pale blue exited a tiny shed, singing softly to himself. He smiled when he saw them, offering a shallow bow that Nick politely returned.

"Come on," he took her hand, leading her down a path lined with cherry trees, pale pink with blossoms. A baby robin took flight from its nest, cradled in a hollow in one of the larger trunks.

"It's so pretty," she turned to Nick, her smile fading. "Hey, you okay?"

"Huh?" he looked up, letting a larger white flower fall to the ground. "Oh, yeah, sure."

"You don't sound like it," she walked over to him. "What were you just thinking about?"

He shook his head, watching as the breeze snatched up the blossom, carrying it to another stand of bamboo. His fist tightened briefly at his side. He sighed heavily.

"There's just a lot of shit I really wish I could change."


"What's happening now?"

He peeked through the leaves, trying to ignore the fact his feet were falling asleep from crouching in the dirt and shade behind the shrub. They were standing on the path, the fox talking as much with his hands as he did with his mouth.

"Nothing worth noting," he didn't bother hiding his boredom.

"I still want you to keep an eye on them," the boss answered. "We cant risk anything being shared, and don't let them die this time!"

He rolled his eyes; one slip-up and he never heard the end of it.

"Understood," he pulled off the headset, letting it hang around his neck. He'd been following these two for months, never more than a few yards away. He shifted to one knee, separating the thin branches to get a better look.

"Come on, you two," his fingers twitched in anticipation, the gun at his thigh begging to be drawn. "Give me some reason to do this…"

He had no idea why the boss insisted on letting them live. The rabbit was gorgeous and sweet, sure, and he guessed the fox was okay, too, but he couldn't begin to think what was supposed to be so intriguing about them. It probably had more to do with who the fox was, and he wondered if this were simply so they could keep tabs on their little bargaining chip. But then why hire him? He was a mercenary, not a babysitter.

He waited a moment after they left the path, then followed them to the greenhouse in a back corner of the garden, squatting by a broken pane. The plants were a little thicker there, thanks to the warm, humid air spilling from the hole, ensuring he'd stay hidden.

He peeked inside, hearing her happy giggle as she explored, running her fingers over every petal and stem she could reach. The fox stayed by the door, his arms crossed, lost in thought again. Was he already regretting whatever he'd told that bunny?

I just hope something interesting happens soon, his fingers brushed against his gun, aching to pull the trigger. Otherwise I might just go against orders.


Nick held open the greenhouse door, several butterflies gliding out on the draft of warm air and flitting to nearby flowers.

"This is what I really wanted to show you," he smiled at Judy. "It's my favorite thing about this place."

She gasped as she walked through, her fingers trailing along a violet wisteria vine creeping over a table crowded with square flower pots, planted with every color of Japanese iris. Ladybugs crawled along leaves and stalks of all sizes and shades, flowers drenching the air in exotic perfumes he leaned against another table, crowded with seedlings in smaller, labelled pots.

I never should've started all this, he thought. He'd already had two attacks that month, the second landing him in the hospital, and no one had any idea why it kept happening. He bit his tongue to hold back a groan, sighing in relief when the stab of pain faded. He guessed it didn't matter what they ended up calling it, since he'd end up worm chow, regardless, it would just be a bit easier to deal with if it had a name.

He watched her pick up a rose that had fallen off a branch, the pale yellow petals a perfect contrast to her fur. She'd been through too much already, and here he was, selfish enough to put her through more.

"Are you sure you're okay, Nick?" she turned to him. "We can go if you're not feeling up to this."

He chuckled, heading to one of the larger pots on the floor and reached behind it. She gasped, the rose dropping from her fingers.

"M-My jewelry box," she covered her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. "Where did you find it?"

She reached for it, then fell back against the damp wall, crying into her hands. He set the box on the table, then picked up the flower, tucking the stem by her ear.

"I'm sorry I ignored you like that, Nick," her breath hitched. "Especially after everything you've done for me, I just didn't know how to—"

"It doesn't matter, you came back," he traced the curve of her cheek, tracing his thumb lightly along her bottom lip. "Let's just put the rest behind us."

She sniffled, then wiped her eyes, offering a small, shaky smile. He watched the blush creep up her ears as he ran a hand down her side, his heart starting to race as he leaned forward. He kissed her, holding her gently, feeling her fingers ghost shyly over his chest; she pulled away first, gazing up at him with bright, adoring eyes.

"Thanks again for saving me, Nick," she said quietly, then licked her lips as he moved in to kiss her again. "Thank you for everything."


His wrists burned, his skin rubbed raw and bleeding by the rough, tight ropes. His face was throbbing. He'd been ambushed on a dark, empty road, barely able to keep from crashing as his tires were shredded by spike strips. He'd hardly climbed off the ruined motorcycle when those mammals had grabbed him, throwing him blindfolded and bound into a vehicle that reeked of rotting fish, ammonia and vomit.

"You brought this on yourself, pal."

The deep, guttural voice was vaguely familiar, filling him with rage that went far beyond being assaulted and kidnapped. He grunted, a large bump in the road having nearly thrown him off the seat.

"Where are you taking me?" he demanded, then coughed hoarsely as a fist slammed into his ribs.

"You'll know it when you see it," a different voice spoke, smoother and slyer than its counterpart. He snorted, his gut tightening as he tried to fight the jostles and jolts of the unpaved street. Another smell had started to leak past the others: fresh blood. The cold metal of a gun pressed deeper into his back, the vehicle jerking to a stop. A door slid quickly open, and he stumbled as they shoved him out, shielding his eyes from the glare of the headlights when they ripped off the blindfold. He could barely see the stone building withs its piqued roof, crowned by a large, ornate cross, but he could never mistake the mammal standing by the tall, stately wooden doors.

Her plush cheek fur bounced lightly with each step, her manicured claws scratching softly through his fur as she took his chin, her small, confident smile fading when she saw his bruised eye and swollen lip.

"What did you do to him?" she demanded icily, glaring at the other three males. The smallest one, a capybara, messed with his gun, before reaching behind his back to shove it into his waistband.

"We had some trouble subduing him," he offered weakly, not meeting her gaze. She eyed the group coldly, then waved a dismissive hand.

"Leave," she ordered simply, leading him inside as they scrambled into their putrid van and took off. She struggled to push the heavy door shut, slumping against it. "At least that's over with."

He looked around, taking in the neat rows of empty pews, the plain alter standing tall across the room, nearly touching the low ceiling. Small torches sat in cast iron sconces on the pillars between the shuttered windows, filling the air with a light haze, tinged with the smells of burning tar and wood.

"What happened, Anya?" he turned to her. "Where have you been all this time?"

She smirked at him, pulling a small knife from the folds of her gown.

"I'm happy to see you, too," she came over, her breath hissing through her teeth as she cut away the rope from his mangled wrists. "But it looks like your little escort wasn't."

He shrugged, working the circulation back into his hands.

"They jumped me just outside town," he frowned. "I just finished fixing my ride this morning, too."

She giggled, tossing the rope aside.

"Its kind of your fault for scaring them so much," she said. "They're on our side, too, you know."

He snorted.

"They don't act like it," he sat down on one of the pews, trying to ignore the sting of his wounds. "Why'd they bring me here, anyway?"

She nodded toward the tray waiting by his elbow, grabbing the black cloth to reveal a large syringe waiting underneath, the liquid inside a shifting, indiscernible color. She picked it up and took off the clouded plastic cap.

"They said it was time for the next phase."

She reached for him, but he jerked away.

"They said the last phase would be the last one," he eyed it warily. "Where are they taking it now?"

She shook her head.

"You know I can't tell you that," she reminded him. "I'm not authorized to."

"That never stopped you before," he looked at her, his eyes widening as the realization hit him. "That's why you disappeared, isn't it?"

He'd gone through a cycle of injectors the last few months, stuck wondering what had happened to her.

"Yeah," she switched the needle to her other hand, swiping her palm on her skirt. "That's also why I 'ordered' those guys to bring you here, you would've been killed if you'd gone to the hut like usual. I didn't realize they had such a grudge against you, though."

He shrugged again; it wasn't the first beating he'd suffered, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

"But why would I have been killed?" he asked. "You never told me anything I couldn't have found out myself."

She scoffed, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt, smoothing the wrinkled blue fabric from his chest.

"You really think that matters to them? And this one's designed to go in your heart," she went on. "I'm afraid I can't say anything else until I give it to you."

He straightened, watching as she disinfected the site, the fine tip disappearing in his fur and piercing his skin, a light tingle rippling out from it. His pulse sped up a bit, his vision blurring slightly at the edges; he waited for the intense burning, to feel like every cell was being ripped apart from the inside.

"It doesn't have the same after-effects as the last round, thank God," she capped the syringe and set it back on the tray, then looked uneasy. "Listen, have you noticed anything…different about yourself, since you started getting these?"

"I don't think so," he buttoned his shirt and got to his feet. The dizziness and nausea upon standing were absent as well. "But then, I can't remember ever not getting them."

She reached in the folds of her dress, taking out a photo dated from his sixth birthday. The top half had been jaggedly cut away, leaving a stick-thin little boy alone in the foreground. His ears and nose were pale, scratches, cuts and burns peeking through his scraggly fur, but he was smiling, his light eyes sparkling. He vaguely remembered that stained blue shirt with the red dragon, the oversized stuffed owl tucked firmly against his side.

Hardly aware he was doing it, he held out a hand, his jaw dropping when he saw the raised outline of a scar on the side of his wrist, in the same spot as the kid frozen in time.

"What did those things do to me?"


Alex tapped her pencil impatiently on the edge of her open notebook, resting her chin in her hand. The badger had lost track of how long it had been since she and Eric had kidnapped Judy, that she'd waited for the cops to barge in and drag her kicking and screaming back to juvie. Or prison. But she hadn't even been questioned about the bitch's disappearance.

Guess Stephanie took all the credit again.

Besides her obsessive crush on Nick, stealing credit was what Stephanie was best-known foe. Alex perked up when one of the heavy library doors groaned open, Judy straining against it as she stepped aside to let someone out. It had taken almost all day for the idiot to find the note Alex had slipped in her locker; she looked around before slinking off to one of the smaller tables by the windows, exactly where Alex had wanted her. She waited a few minutes before approaching, going over what she'd say one last time. It was now or never.

"Hey, mind if I sit here?" she plastered a shy smile on her face. Judy barely looked up from her paper, her eyes bright with shock.

"Yeah, sure," she pushed out the chair across from her with her foot. Alex sat down, reaching in her binder for the old sketch she'd stolen from the storage closet in the art room.

"Thanks, this spot has the best light," she bent over the picture, tracing the lines with a fine-tipped blue marker. The Aztec death mask and cracked conch shell almost looked like a black-and-white photograph.

"That's really good," Judy remarked after a while. "How long have you been drawing?"

Casually, Alex shifted her hand to cover the real artist's signature. He was long dead, anyway.

"Since I could hold a crayon," she leaned slightly forward. "What are you working on?"

"Ugh, another essay," the rabbit crossed out a word. "Mr. Delrio's been assigning them every week this quarter."

Alex cringed in fake sympathy, then capped the marker and set it down. The picture was starting to smudge, charcoal dust dyeing the side of her hand.

"You're dating Nick Wilde, right?"

Judy stopped writing.

"Sort of," she said. "Why?"

Alex shrugged one shoulder.

"I've overheard some mammals talking about," she sighed inwardly, this was going to be even easier than she'd thought. "What do you mean, 'sort of?"

Judy went back to her paper for a minute, then groaned and shoved it aside.

"I'll worry about it later," she muttered to herself, then turned to Alex. "I mean, we're not actually together or anything."

"That's good," time for the next piece to fall into place. "My sister dated him for a while their freshman year, he treated her like shit."

Judy twisted one of her ears before pushing it behind her shoulder.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, he never hit her," Alex started, barely able to keep a straight face. "But he was always lying to her, and he put her down so much that she really started believing she couldn't do anything right."

Judy shook her head.

"That doesn't sound anything like him, he's one of the nicest mammals I've ever met."

Alex nodded sagely.

"That's how it started with my sister. He pulled her in with the whole 'good guy' act, but as soon as they were together, he was criticizing everything she did."

Judy suddenly looked nervous.

"Who's your sister?"

"Emily Bradford," Alex nodded toward the wall behind the librarian's desk, where plaques were hung for students who'd died. Emily had been pale and skinny with gray eyes, and she'd always seemed to smile and scowl at the same time. Alex couldn't remember when she'd felt more excited than after her big sister's death. She just wished she'd succeeded in killing Nick that night, too, it would have made things so much easier.

She allowed herself the barest hint of a smile as she watched Judy struggle; she had to smother her laugh with a hand as the bunny jumped up, sweeping her crap into her backpack.

"I-I'm so sorry about your sister," she managed quietly, then ran off, nearly smashing her face on the door when she yanked it open. Alex let a few giggles out as she recalled the terrified look on Judy's face, this was going to be even more fun than she'd thought.


Judy moaned sleepily, rubbing the grit from her eyes. The walls were pale yellow, almost taped over with posters of cartoon characters and comic book heroes, dolls and other toys scattered on the couches and tables lining the room. The play area in the children's ward at the hospital. Nick was sitting on the couch across from her, Lilly curled up in his lap, both of them smiling as he softly read The Ugly Duckling. The cub noticed her staring, and beamed at her.

"She's awake, Nick!"

Nick chuckled as she jumped down, closing the book and dropping it on the cushion as he stood, grabbing a pair of Styrofoam cups from the small table by the arm.

"You missed breakfast, Judy," Lilly said, nearly hopping in place. "They had pancakes and Lucky Chomps!"

Judy laughed, sitting up as she took the cup Nick offered her, lukewarm water. He put a hand on Lilly's head, her grin and eyes bright as she looked up at him.

"Chad and your mom will be here soon," he told her. "They said they had something special planned."

Judy didn't think the cub could get any more excited, but she took off like a shot then, nearly bowling over the older civet nurse who'd come to get her.

"Hard to believe she was so sick just a few weeks ago," Nick mused when they were alone. She giggled when she saw the messy brushing job on his tail, the sparkling pink bow tied at the end of it. He shot her a mildly peeved look before pulling it off, then carefully combed his claws through the mussed fur.

"You fell asleep pretty fast last night," he tossed the bow across the room. "I didn't think The Little Princess was that boring."

"That story's always put me to sleep, my mom called it her fail-safe," she ignored the quick pang in her stomach. "I had no idea you were so good with kids."

He shrugged, spinning his half-empty cup slowly between his hands.

"I've always loved working with them, especially when they're stuck in a place like this," he stretched out his leg and tugged up his jeans. A raised, faded scar cut a path through the fur on his calf, and she realized she'd never seen him in shorts before.

"I was helping one of my aunts with her emus when a chick got loose. Her lead was tangled in a bush when I found her, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up in this hospital," he fixed his pants. "She'd trampled my leg and almost shattered it."

Judy breathed sharply through her teeth.

"Sounds brutal."

"No kidding," he sat back and took a sip, grimacing at the taste of cold coffee. "I'm stuck with all the plates and crap they had to use to fix it, though my dad actually considered getting it amputated at first."

She set the water down and ran her hands over her limp ears, glancing around as she tried to stop thinking about the story Alex had told her, and all the other rumors she'd been stuck overhearing. Nick couldn't really be capable of all those things, could he?

"I have to go," she stood abruptly, not caring when her skirt got soaked. "Kara will kill me if I'm not locked in my room when she wakes up."

He looked disappointed.

"We're still on for tonight, though, right?"

She nodded stiffly, she'd almost forgotten about it.

"Yeah, sure," she said quickly, unable to face him. "I-I'll see you then."

She took off, wishing she could just forget those stupid stories, and especially the pain she'd seen in Nick's eyes.


Judy put down the brush, frowning at her reflection; she'd never been able to get her fur as soft or shiny as her mother could. She smoothed her hands over the front of her knee-length navy dress; the off-shoulder neckline and tiered skirt had been tricker than she'd thought, but at least the wine-red trim had been easy. Nick had texted an hour ago, saying there would be a small change to tonight. She picked up the rhinestone ear chain Miranda had given her while she'd been recovering. It was the last time Judy had seen her, now that she thought about it.

And she still hasn't gotten back to me, Judy glanced at her phone, peeking out of her beaded black clutch. Even a wet, shirtless picture of Nick hadn't been enough to make her friend respond. Oh well, not much I can do about it.

She finished her makeup and grabbed her jacket, heading downstairs as the doorbell rang. Nick smiled when he saw her, then leaned in to kiss her.

"You look amazing," he said, making her blush. He wore dark slacks and a blazer pulled over a thin gray sweater, his fur neatly trimmed. "Ready to go?"

She took his arm, the heat of his skin through his sleeve sending her mind to the gutter. Her blush deepened, and she turned to the curb, stopping when she saw the idling limo, a uniformed older wombat waiting behind the wheel with a patient smile.

"It was Nona's idea," Nick rubbed the back of his neck. "Not a problem, is it?"

She shook her head.

"Of course not," she giggled. "I've always wanted to ride in one!"

He chuckled, holding open the back door before climbing in next to her. She moved to the other end of the glossy dark ostrich leather seat as they got going, staring out the open window at the moonless, star-studded sky. She shook her head when he held out a hand.

"I'm sorry, Nick," she said quietly, not fully facing him. "I know I'm acting weird—"

"Because you can't stop thinking about all those stupid rumors you keep hearing about me," he finished blandly. She winced.

"I know its all crap," she tried to explain. "And.i thought I could just keep ignoring it, but it managed to get stuck in my head and now I can't forget it."

He looked at her, a little regretfully, then sighed.

"I'm not blaming you, Judy," he started. "I know I didn't treat Emily like I should have, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't still blame myself for what happened. I knew she was unstable, but I never thought it'd get…that bad."

Who could have, she wondered, nearly falling off the seat when the limo suddenly jerked to a stop. The window across from them rolled down, then the engine went quiet.

"We've got a flat, sir," a chauffeur had a light Jamaican accent. "But I don't know what we might have hit."

Nick glanced outside, his posture slightly stiff. The streets were unusually empty for so early in the evening, and it was starting to make Judy nervous.

"We'll help change it," she blurted, knowing Nick would have offered anyway, it was just how he was. She climbed out after him, reaching in the trunk for the jack while he and the driver struggled with the spare tire. Her blood went cold when she saw the damage, the heavy jack falling to the road as her hands started shaking. "Oh God…"

"What's wrong?" Nick dropped the spare on the curb, his eyes going wide when he saw the hole torn in the side of the tire. "Shit…"

He grabbed Judy's hand, pulling her behind him as the chauffeur dropped to the ground, blood running in the gutter from his broken nose. A tall, lean black fox stepped out from the alley, Judy shivering when she saw how the streetlights reflected in his brown eyes, glinting off a wide, nasty white smile.

"Nice piece you got there," he chuckled and strolled forward. "Mind if I try her out?"

Nick stepped further in front of her, tense like he was ready to fight.

"That's not what you're really after," he stated bluntly. Judy felt her skin prickle, like the air were suddenly charged, and it only got worse when the other fox laughed, one of the coldest sounds she had ever heard.

"You don't have to know about that," he said, that cruel smirk still in place. "You just need to keep up."

Judy grunted as Nick pushed her against the wall, barely catching the black fox's wrist. Her blood froze when she saw the wicked knife in his grip, the end of the handle stained with blood. He twisted sharply, the weapon falling to the sidewalk; he kicked it away, then slammed a fist into the tod's stomach.

"I don't think that'll be a problem."

He dodged a furious blow, stepped in and jammed an elbow in the other fox's temple, then shoved him back, a ringing thud resounding as his head cracked against a light pole. The tod slumped to the ground, and actually had the good sense to stay down.

"All right," Nick brushed off his hands. "Now to get the rest of this mess cleaned up."

He went to the driver, sitting on the curb with a wad of white cloth pressed to his nose, looking groggy. Judy helped haul the bleeding wombat to his feet, wincing when she thought about the black eyes he'd be sporting the next few weeks.

"At least the hospital's on the next block," she commented, pulling her jacket closer around her again. It was cooler than she'd thought it would be tonight. "But what are we going to do about all this?"

She nodded to the limo as they passed, then glanced back at the other fox, who was quietly groaning. Where the hell had he even come from?

"Let's get him taken care of first," Nick kept a hand on his chauffeur's shoulder, steadying him. "I want to make sure his nose isn't broken."

She looked behind them again, wondering what could have caused that kind of damage to a tire, a gasp getting caught in her throat when she saw the guy he'd fought had already disappeared.


Judy settled on the black futon in Nick's basement, holding her knees to her chest and feeling tiny in the shirt he'd lent her. His driver had ended up with a fractured nose, and she'd had to look away as it was packed. His wife, a fellow wombat and cafeteria worker who'd just gotten off shift, had insisted on giving them a lift home, after making sure they'd had something to eat, of course. Nick had asked if she'd wanted to be dropped at her house, chuckling at how quickly she'd blurted that she'd rather stay with him. She turned to the pale gray divider he'd slipped behind to change, remembering how easily he'd fought that guy off.

"I've never seen anybody take down someone that fast," she said loudly enough for him to hear. He stepped out, pulling a faded blue baseball shirt over his head; she frowned when she saw the large bandage peeking over the lip of his pajama pants. What could that have come from?

"I told you how long I've been kickboxing," he leaned against the arm of the futon, looking down at her. "And I've gotten in more than one fight with my cousins."

She giggled, rubbing the scrapes on her elbow from when she'd hit the wall.

"I'm sorry about earlier," she said quietly. "I know I shouldn't listen to that crap."

"It's fine," he sat next to her, then rubbed the back of his neck. "And those rumors are part of why I was so hesitant, I knew a lot of mammals at school would start shoving them down your throat if I got with you. It happened with Emily, too."

She pulled her ears over her shoulder and started stroking them, it had always helped calm her down.

"Did you know that guy?" She asked. "He sure seemed to know you."

He shook his head.

"I wasn't paying attention, I was more focused on keeping him away from you."

She pressed her lips together, looking at him through her lashes. His face had the same neutral expression as always, his fingers drumming restlessly on his thigh as he got lost in thought. She swallowed.

"Do you think they'll ever catch whoever's behind those murders?"

He sighed.

"I don't know," he crossed his arms. "This isn't even the first time this guy's come around, but it's not like they had any better luck then."

She brushed her ears back, then scooted closer, curling up against side with her head on his shoulder. He cupped her cheek, putting an arm around her as he started kissing her, a warm shiver hitting her spine when he pulled her flush against him.

"He'd never get near you," he whispered resolutely. "I promise."


"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he could barely hear his own voice, crouched sin the shadows by the narrow basement window. He tried to ignore the pain in his heart when Nick brushed a claw over Judy's forehead, then placed a feather-light kiss between her ears. He bit down hard on his lip, not bothering to hide the anger as he finished the report. "And they're looking pretty damn cozy."

The boss hummed thoughtfully.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much," the mammal tried to assure him. After all the time he'd spent with the agency, he still couldn't figure the guy out. He really did seem to care, yet at the same time saw his agents as little more than tools. What the hell was his end game? "They'll both be gone soon enough."

He looked through the window again, his chest tightening when he saw how happy Judy was in Nick's arms. It should have been him down there with her, it was never supposed to happen this way!

"But what happens when he figures it out? You know he'll try to stop us."

"I doubt he'll live ling enough to," the boss answered. "And he'd only be making things harder for himself if he did, considering he's even more tangled in all this than we are."

"Right…" he shoved out a breath, turned off the bluetooth and dropped it in his pocket. Judy was just an innocent bystander for now, but he knew Nick would tell her the truth eventually, either from the stress of keeping such a huge secret, or because she managed to stumble across part of it herself. Either way, it would mean he'd have to kill her, his gut twisting just at the thought of it.

It was one of the few times he wished he'd been reborn as one of the heartless experiments he was fighting so hard to protect. He shuddered, remembering the tour of the labs he'd been forced to endure as a new agent, where he'd had to witness the end of the process that created those vile creatures. The overly eager scientists guiding him had been too happy to explain how they were going to change how wars were fought, that soft, fragile mammals were going to be completely removed from the battlefield. He'd fled to his small apartment as soon as he'd been able to, and had spent the rest of the night vomiting into the toilet. Things had only gotten worse from there, as he'd learned the rest of that hellish process: the injections, the surgeries, the brainwashing. And that was still just the beginning.

I can't let her get any more missed up in this, he focused back on the window. Judy was still curled up against Nick's side, ignorant of just what she'd chosen to get close to. Now she was trapped with him in the crosshairs, and he knew from experience that she could never get out.

I still have to try and stop this, he pushed himself to his numb feet, staggering through the dark backyard and into the woods standing guard behind the street. Before any more innocent mammals get killed.