For a few minutes, the air around our table was silent. Everyone was deep in thought, or at least, like me, tried to muster any productive thoughts. Instead of these, my mind kept returning to the sight of Andrey with a knife last night, his handsome face darkened by anger, his grey eyes murderous. Like that, he was a stranger to me. A complete stranger.
Even so, even if HE was a killer… I wasn't. Not like that, not in cold blood, and not even in hot one. It was hard enough to watch other people kill and die, even when they objectively deserved it and nothing less—even if there could've been nothing less. But to raise the blade myself…
"You know, Diana," Panda suddenly spoke, "Maybe we are so deep in all this supernatural stuff we forget that there are normal solutions that normal people use. Which says something about me, considering that I never wanted to get into this supernatural stuff in the first place."
