I should be thinking about what this means. I should be calculating my next move and making sure I still have the upper hand when it comes to the Processor. But I’m not.
I’m just…here.
The situation is tense as it is, and I’m not one for sentimental shit. Something irreversible passed between us last night, something that I’m sure will change our entire dynamic. We don’t talk about that, pretendingthis—us being almost naked in my kitchen, drinking morning coffee—is as normal as they come. Until we do.
Did I have to tell him about my contracts? Probably not. But I wanted to.
He needs to understand who he’s getting in bed with, what I am and what I do. Killing someone allows me one of the very few emotions I can feel, and I’ll be damned if any man will take that away. Nor do I plan to hide myself under false pretense.
I also don’t particularly care what Azrael has to say regarding this. It’s the life I’ve built for myself and the life I want. He will only be an addition to it, not the axis of my entire existence.
When he finally leaves, I lock the door behind him and stand there, pressing my forehead to the cold wood, letting everything that happened finally sink in. Fuck.
I should feel victorious. I got the Professor exactly where I wanted him to be, in a place where I’m what he wants and needs.
“Tory, what the fuck have you done?” I ask myself, hoping somehow the universe will suddenly solve this mess I’ve gotten myself into, but there is no answer. I guess even the universe is recovering from the catastrophic event that happened last night.
For the rest of the day, I go through the motions, sticking to my routine in a frantic attempt to reclaim a life that no longer feels like my own. My body moves, but my mind is stuck on a loop, replaying him, his touch, his words.
My thoughts are pulled away by the phone that buzzes on the table.
Alex. For once, his name doesn’t bother me that much. I honestly need to get into action as soon as possible, before I open the ‘Azrael’ fan club.
“Morning, sunshine,” he says flatly, his tone not matching the words. He’s all business.
“Skip it.”
“I have news about our mysterious kill. But it is not enough. I don’t even have the target’s first name yet. The guy keeps on feeding us potatoes without providing any useful information. But hey, I know the target has dark hair and green eyes.”
“Great, just like the other 3 percent of the population. So you just called me to say you have nothing for me? Why the fuck do I keep you around?” I shoot back.
“You are a gentle soul? And I am fucking good at my job.”
“Charming,” I mutter. “So you have nothing.”
“Yet.”
The silence stretches. He knows I hate that word.
“But I’ve got something else, if you think you are up for it.”
Great. UntilPlan B,he’s never had to ask. There was no reason to doubt I would kill without blinking. But now? EvenAlex heard it in my voice, saw it in the way I could not execute the basic planning I had in place. He sees me ascompromised.
“Send the details,” I answer. “Let me do what I’m good at.”
Because he knows me. Or at least, he used to.
There’s a pause before he adds the most random thing ever. “By the way, you’ve got a letter downstairs. The doorman sent a message. Maybe something from the Professor, you should ask him.”
What the fuck? Azrael wouldn’t do that…would he? Feels good not having to deal with mundane activity, but maybe I should stop asking Alex to monitor my deliveries.
“Probably not. Send the details.”
The message comes in less than three seconds after I hang up.
INCOMING: NEW CONTRACT
Target: Alice