William frowned, his expression dark and contemplative. His thoughts churned like a storm.
"If you have too many lice, you stop worrying about itching," he muttered to himself, his tone edged with dry humor. The chaotic battlefield didn't allow him the luxury of patience, but as long as the thieves didn't fully wake up, he could handle this situation. After all, he now possessed the complete characteristics of both a werewolf and a demon; powerful traits that made him a force to be reckoned with. Soon, he would undergo his job change, and when that happened, these incomplete, unstable characteristics lingering in his body would need to be purged.
But his mind snagged on one unsettling detail.
"Not just a thief," he said, narrowing his eyes. "A corrupt thief?"
