I knew his place had the same layout as mine, and there was no guest room.
He might've smiled, though it was hard to tell in the light. "Good. We've got a few things we need to talk about anyway."
I followed him into his flat, Akira sniffing curiously at the dominant scent that permeated every corner.
"Drink?" he asked, heading over to the sleek little minibar wedged between the living room and the kitchen.
"Sure." I took the glass he handed me, which contained some fancy Japanese whisky with an unpronounceable name, and took a sip.
It went down smooth, like silk soaked in fire, and I felt the tension in my shoulders start to give up and move out. I finally relaxed slightly, soothed by the alcohol and the unexpected safety of Hudson's house.
I stifled a yawn. It wasn't
