Grue glanced down at Bitch, who was rubbing her chin, opening her jaw wide, as if testing it.
“Does this thing still work…?”
I dropped down to a crouch so quickly that my knee slammed into the ground. I grabbed the upper end of the baton and pulled it over Bitch’s head, forcing the bar between her teeth, pulling back hard.
Eesh. If Taylor keeps it up like this, it might not.
Grue moved to stop me once more, and I shook my head. He hesitated, then stopped.
He seems to trust Taylor enough that he figures this is justified in some way and sees that Taylor needs to take out her anger… that or he just doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire for trying to intervene.
Bentley was pacing towards me, snarling at the attack on his owner. I met his gaze with my own, unflinching, and he didn’t lunge to attack, maybe because he didn’t want to hurt his master in the process. I didn’t break eye contact with the dog as I spoke with the swarm buzzing in accompaniment, “Regent, this isn’t for Shadow Stalker’s ears.”
I wonder if Taylor ever got around to buying a book on dog psychology after all. Maybe during the two weeks after the Leviathan attack?
Then again, she’s spent enough time with Rachel to start picking up some of these things naturally, on top of online research.
“Got it,” Regent spoke. Shadow Stalker moved to the bench by the elevators, sat down, and buried her face in her arms, covering her ears.
Regent informed me, “She can’t hear much of anything, now.”
Shadow Stalker, internally: “Fuck, I was curious…”
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