“So…the Professor’s already a problem, huh?”
I ignore him with all my power. Otherwise, he would be a distraction, and I still need Alex.
“First, Toronto guy. I moved up the schedule. I hear Mondays are way better for killing.”
I can practically hear the eye roll.
“Or maybe just buying yourself time away? What else?”
“The anonymous one. We are also rolling it. I need a timeframe, and all the details you can find. As much as I like my job, I can’t just walk around with an FN M249 SAW and kill everyone with dark hair and green eyes.”
“You got it.” A too long pause, like he’s afraid of saying what he’s about to say. “He really left his mark on you, huh?”
I look down at the wineglass on the table, lips twitching. “I think ‘marked’ was two nights ago. We’re way past that now.”
“TMI. All right,” he says, serious now. “Give me an hour. But Victoria…”
“What?”
“Be careful. He might be too much, even for you.”
I spend the next forty-eight hours focused on who the target is, learning her better than she knows herself. I prepared everything. Azrael tried calling a couple of times, but I made sure my answers were as ambiguous as possible.
If I want all this to make sense, I need to make sure my conclusions are drawn without the sight of his cock in me, or his tongue, or any other of his body parts that would alter my brain chemistry.
As for the target, she is, at the surface, quite boring—the ordinary work-too-hard-to-survive-in-a-man’s-world type of girl. She initially loathed me, but I got to be quite impressed once I learned more. She is obnoxious, lacking friends or any sort of interpersonal relationship, but at least the girl doesn’t care about the rules or whether she breaks them, something I can respect.
She will be quite a challenge, as she has trained in multiple contact sports and loves guns more than she loves her brother, but still manageable.
The mission is set: the only way to actually get to her is to be as close as possible. My only chance will be a direct stab, skin to skin. Exactly what I’ve done dozens of times before, so it should be okay, right?
I check into a hotel I’ve never been to before, under a name I barely remember using. If I want to stay invisible, I have to keep moving, especially in a place like Toronto, where I’ve been too many times. Inconvenient for Alex? Absolutely. But I’ll admit, I never hated waking up to a new skyline.
This room is as lively as a morgue—white and gray walls, bleach smell in the bathroom. Honestly, one good bloodstain would improve the decor by 30 percent.
I lay my gear on the bed, fingers brushing over steel, while my mind is already going through the different strategies. I am absolutely not thinking about Plan B. Funny how the right weapon in the wrong mood can rewrite an entire plan.
I want this job to be perfect. Not just because of thePlan Bissue, but to prove to myself that I’m still the best, that when blood is on the line, I’m still the first name that should be called.
The weapon I chose is small, with a silencer attached. If I have to touch her, I need to make sure nobody notices me mid-act.
I dress in a black hoodie, black leather jacket, black jeans, and black boots. If anyone is to see me, the darkness of the night will just distress my features, nothing left to be hinted at.
By the time the clock hits the confirmation moment, I’m ready, so fucking ready. I’ve rehearsed this in my mind a thousand times—ithasto go right.
“Ready?” Alex’s voice cracks through the earpiece, disturbing the calm.
I just nod, more to myself.
“The target should appear between 9:40 and 9:47. That gives you a solid window, don’t waste it. Once she’s in sight, make it clean. The team’s on standby for cleanup.”
“Clean job. Got it.”
I’m already in position five minutes later at one of the cafés directly across from the kill zone. A coffee cup sits in front of me, half full, the other half dumped somewhere in the corner.
Once she shows, I should be able to reach her in eight seconds flat. The job itself? Less than fifteen, including exit.
“I’m in position. Waiting.”