But now, none of that mattered. After this, I would go back to the shadows and try to forget this place ever existed.
I waited until Vargas turned to his bar, then came up behind him and locked an arm around his throat.
He thrashed a little, nothing that could dislodge my arm, however, and then went limp.
It was almost too easy. Disappointing, really. Since coming here, I’d had to restrain myself from killing far too much, and it was wearing on my nerves. Pavol and Benedict were begging for it, but I’d ignored the urge so I could carry out my job.
I lowered Vargas to the floor and reached for the rope I’d coiled into my pocket. The client wanted him hanged; they were very insistent. There was probably some allusion to Judas in there somewhere, but I didn’t care. Or maybe they wanted him scorned in the eyes of the Church by having his death ruled a suicide? Regardless, dead was dead, and I was good at any which way that was achieved. Since suicide was specifically requested, I held off leaving my usual calling card... a broken hourglass.
Rigging the rope up didn’t take me too long, and soon I balanced Vargas’s inert body on a stool to take his weight. I wantedhim awake when I killed him. I wanted him to know what was happening.
Yes, Mrs. Vasco, the most unfortunate public school teacher in theborgo, I did find my calling in your class. Thank you.
I sat at the opulent table and lit a cigarette, filling my lungs with nicotine. I looked at Vargas. He was a man with secrets, and I wondered how many of them were born right here in Hallow Hall. The place was still a mystery and not one I was particularly eager to unravel except for where it concerned her.
Katarina Dimitrova was complicating things.
She wasn’t going to be easy to leave here, or forget.
I pondered it as though I hadn’t already decided to take her with me.
Then I heard it. A whimper. The sound of pain muffled by a gag. I’d heard it a hundred times, but never from someone who wasn’t my victim.
Fuck.
Someone was here.
I rose slowly, senses on high alert. Since leaving the Col Moschin, I’d built a reputation for myself. That of a fearsome assassin, the man who could get to anyone, L’Ombra. The Shadow. They’d even given me a nickname.
But my ability to enter anywhere and get close to anyone was rooted in the fact that very few knew my face. As soon as my anonymity was lost, it was all over.
I couldn’t afford to leave loose ends, and witnesses were exactly that.
I coasted around the room, approaching the wardrobe from the side, making it harder to see me coming. If the person inside had any kind of survival instinct, they would attack me first.
I reached under my cassock for my gun. It fit my hand like anold friend. I rolled the silencer on, took the safety off, aimed it toward the doors, and opened them.
The person inside launched at me, a blur of white and red. I leveled the gun at them. They had too much momentum. They weren’t lunging. They were falling.
I backed up, gun pointed at the person as I finally made out who they were. Who else needed to die tonight.
She landed on her side, her hands over her face. Despite that, I recognized her.
A little stray cat getting into places she shouldn’t.
Her clothes were bloodied, her hair wild. Her focus landed on me, and her lips moved around a thick satin gag. I stared at her, surprise rooting me to the spot.
What had Vargas been doing when I’d interrupted him? Had she seen me attack him? She only had to glance to the left and she’d see my suicide setup in progress.
Katarina had just made herself a witness, and I didn’t leave witnesses. Ever.
I crouched before her and reached out for her gag. She flinched away from me, afraid. Her gaze fixed on the gun in my other hand.
I tugged the gag down. Her mouth was ringed with blood, her eyes red. She looked like she’d been to hell, and now she was staring at me as though I’d come on cue to collect her soul.
“Don’t, please don’t kill me,” she whispered, staring at the gun. “Don’t shoot me. Please. Please, I beg you.”
I sank back on my heels and considered how to handle this unexpected development.