Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
The lights are still on, and I can see clearly. I studied the house’s layout before I arrived, so I know exactly where his bedroom is located. I hear the creak of the floor as he walks up the stairs and then into what I presume is the bathroom, leaving the door open. I grab the syringe and quietly make my way to the second floor. I hear the sound of a toilet flushing, and I wait to see what he’ll do next. A few moments later, the shower turns on.
I count to twenty, then I push the door open ever so slowly until I catch sight of him. His back is to me, bare ass on full display. Sometimes during my kills, I like to watch my victims to understand what kind of person they are. Even though I never get emotionally involved, I want to know what the mark did to tick someone off enough to have a hit put out on them. But I already know what he did. It’s the sole reason I’m here.
Taking a deep breath, I step into the bathroom. I purposely step across the tiled floor, my heels clicking as I knew they would. He whips around at the sound and immediately swings at my head. He makes contact with my chin before I can get out of reach, and it almost knocks me off balance, but I manage to right myself as he swings again, this time missing me.
“I know you,” he seethes.
“Hi,” I say, dropping down to a crouched position and stabbing him in the leg with the needle.
He jumps back as I start to inject the venom, and I only get half of it in before he starts stumbling. He lunges for me, and I mistakenly think he won’t get me until his fist connects with my bottom lip. It stings, and I taste the metallic tang of blood.
Reaching up, I feel the spray of water coming from the shower as he struggles to keep himself upright. I find the needle, then depress the plunger all the way before pulling it out of his leg. He drops, and at the sound of his rapid breathing, I know it won’t be long.
Taking a deep breath, I collapse back on the tiled floor, my mouth throbbing from the hits he got in. Shit, I’m going to have to burn this place down. My blood will be on his knuckles, maybe even splattered on a wall or the floor.
“Quite the predicament you’re in.”
My heart races at the sound of that voice. Standing in the doorway, leaning against it with a smirk on his lips, is the detective.
Fuck.
SIXTEEN
BOSTON
I had a feeling she was more lethal than she seemed.
All my life, I’ve been trained to catch killers. It’s something I’m extremely good at. Though, I can honestly say this blue-haired little dynamite has had me stumped up until now, which not many have been able to do.
I’m good at killing killers. It’s one of the reasons I joined the Forsaken in the first place. Soren had offered me an opportunity I couldn’t turn down. I could pick some killers now and then, and I could hunt them down with no connections coming back to me. He’d told me about how my father was once a member, which I was unaware of, but later discovered he was telling the truth. It’d sounded too good to be true, yet after some serious thought, I’d decided to join.
I’m not dumb, though. I understand why he wanted someone like me to join the Forsaken. I’ve covered up many of their crimes, and I knew that was a condition of me joining. I would have to put in more than the others simply because of who I am. Some of the members see me as beneath them in rank, and while they’re mostly right, I don’t think they quite understand the power I possess. But even with holding power, there are still consequences to actions.
For one, Soren keeps asking when I’ll get married. You see, in the Forsaken, wives are preferred over girlfriends because girlfriends talk too much, while wives do not. And I can’t remember exactly how that came into play. Still, I remember one of them talking about something along the lines of it’s harder to get your wife to testify against you than your girlfriend, because you have more leverage over your wife.
I shake those thoughts off and turn back to the matter at hand.
Her beautiful blue eyes blink up at me, and I smirk. Not only is she a fucking smart-ass, but she’s quite gifted at killing.
“Was Bailey easier?” I ask.
She manages to sit up but doesn’t make a move to stand. Her hand rubs her jaw, and I see blood on her lips, which I first took for red lipstick.