Just Bob (Assassins Inc. #1)(11)

“Holy bunny bits.” Bob gasped. “You really are the more dominant cat.”

I chuckled. “Yes.”

“Are you going to eat me?”

My eyes dropped to Bob’s crotch. “I might.”

I did not expect the plate of eggs that came flying in my direction, hitting me in the chest before dropping to the floor. Well, most of it fell to the floor. Some of it got caught up in my chest hair.

“Bob!”

“I’m too skinny to eat,” Bob shouted as he started throwing pancakes at me. “I taste bad. I’m all gristle. You’ll get a stomach ache.”

What the fuck?

“Knock it off, Bob,” I snapped when he picked up the frying pan.

Bob lifted the frying pan up like a baseball bat. “You said you were going to eat me.”

I rolled my eyes. “I meant I was going to give you a blow job.”

The frying pan lowered.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” I replied as I carefully edged closer. I needed to get rid of that frying pan. It wouldn’t kill me, but it could still leave quite the dent. Not to mention a whopper of a headache. “Why don’t you give me that?”

“What?” A frown marred Bob’s face.

Good god, the man was totally serious.

I snatched the frying pan out of Bob’s hands before he could figure it out. I did not relish getting hit with it. Thank god it wasn’t cast-iron.

“No hitting.”

Bob’s eyebrows drew together in the most adorable frown. “Don’t shifters eat humans?”

I shook my head. I loved the anonymity my kind provided, but sometimes it was a headache. Humans knew about shifters. Some idiot with too much time on his hand had written an article, which led to pictures, which led to the entire shifter world being shoved into the public eye. It happened about fifty years ago, but the world—both human and shifter—was still reeling from the exposure.

Many humans didn’t understand the shifter nature, or our tendency to rip idiots apart. Others were afraid of what they didn’t understand and wanted us all put to death. Xenophobes, as they were called. They believed humans were supposed to be the dominant species on earth, except they weren’t.

Many shifters had fallen into the human way of living, buying cute little houses with picket fences and popping out poodles and way too many kids. Others joined shifter communes, where walking down the street in their animal form wasn’t frowned upon, or had the possibility of getting them lynched, or made into a rug.

Then there were those shifters that banned together—often causing trouble—because they believed that they were stronger, faster, and smarter than humans, so they should rule over them, with the humans as their slaves, there to do their bidding.

And then there were the panther shifters.

All shifters answered to the council. For each different shifter species, there was a council member that represented them. Our council leader had decided—for all of panther kind—that the human way of life was not for us, but it could be beneficial if handled correctly.

I still wasn’t sure how I felt about the man contacting the human government and making a deal with them, but what I did know was that I had a get out of jail free card. It came in the form of a handler—Sin—and various government kill contracts.

Luckily, I was only required to accept the ones I chose to take. That was one rule the councilman had set down. We could turn down any assignment we didn’t want to take. We could even accept contracts outside of the government preview as long as the council got their cut.

Sinclair gave me my assignments and made sure I wasn’t caught by the local authorities. Only those in the highest echelons of the government knew of the services panthers provided for them—at a price, of course.

Over the years, I had taken enough contracts to put away a sufficient amount of money to live comfortably for the rest of my life. Sinclair invested a large portion of it, making me even more money. Just another assistance he provided to those he handled.

“No, baby, we do not eat humans.”

Well, usually.

“Granted, there are those that break the rules and attack humans, and they do use their teeth and claws to cause maximum damage, but it is still against our laws.”

Bob gulped. “Wha-what happens to those that break the law?”

“We’re shifters, Bob. Our laws are strict. If we unnecessarily attack a human and kill them, the sentence is death.”

“But…aren’t you a killer?”

“Yes, baby, but I’m a sanctioned killer.” Bob was cute when he frowned. I could see him trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together and not having enough pieces. “I only kill the bad guys.”

“But…I’m not a bad guy.”

Now I was frowning. “You have to have done something.”

Bob shook his head. “Nope.”

“It was a government contract, Bob. Those only come from high up in the government.”

“But I don’t know anyone high up in the government.”

“You wouldn’t.” But they would know him. It was the only way a contract could be called out on him. “Can you think of anything you might have done to piss someone off?”

“No.” Bob grabbed the hair on the side of his head and pulled. He started pacing. “God, this is just like getting fired all over again.”