Crowed (Team Zero #2) - Rina Kent

Crow

I know a few things about killing. I was kidnapped and turned into a lethal weapon in my early teens.

But secret missions? Unknown targets? That’s a whole different fucking bag altogether.

I lurk behind a rock on a cliff shore, my clutch tightens around my gun. The eerie night stakes its claim, turning the sky dark. Silver light from the moon shines on the sea’s surface. The crashing waves is the only sound. No people. Not even a sight of the countless tourists who fill Southern France every summer.

My gaze falls on my wristwatch. About two in the morning. My target ought to show up any minute now. My only sign is they will be wearing red. Why they would show up like a pig for slaughter is the fucking question. That’s why I’m about to fidget like a bloody newbie.

Accepting the contract was a fucking mistake. But I had to leave England even for a while. If I remained, my mates in Team Zero and especially Hades, our leader, would find out I’m doing something completely unforgivable. Something that will end up with me hunted down and butchered to pieces.

So I grabbed the first contract overseas, and now, here I fucking am. In the middle of nowhere, waiting for an invisible target.

The Pit, the organisation that turned me into a nobody, accepts anonymous contracts as long as secure payment is guaranteed. Hades sold his soul to the devil for power and turned us into his pawns in order to build his fucking underground empire. Kidnapping us from the streets wasn’t enough, so he invested in other means to ensure our loyalty.

A pounding starts at the back of my head and snaps to the forefront. I rub my temples and tighten my hold on the gun. Sweat breaks on the side of my face.

Fuck.

It’s coming back. Fucking withdrawal.

It’s dangerous during a mission. In fact, if the target fights back, withdrawal symptoms would be fucking lethal. I can’t die now. Not when the rest of my mates still need saving.

I shove my hand in the pocket of my leather jacket and retrieve a brown capsule and a needle. My shoulders tense, and although my head is still throbbing, disgust is a lot more fucking prominent.

Omega drug. The reason for our fucking decimation. Our torture, but also our salvation.

Twenty-five odd years ago, when Hades started The Pit, he brought in a little sadistic researcher. Doctor Fucking Johnson. The screwed doctor’s aim was to create a drug that ensures strength but also loyalty. The scientific comity shackled his research due to unethical methods. Enter Hades’ hunger for power. His men kidnapped fifty early teens and children to become Dr Fucking Johnson’s subjects.

One of them is me.

Fifty of us started Team Zero. Most died during the early years. The reason twelve of us reached adulthood is because our bodies accepted the drug. Then, out of the fucking blue, Diablo dropped dead about a month ago. Just like that. One minute he was laughing with us and toasting me with scotch, the next minute, he was sprawled cold on the ground.

Team Zero don’t know it, but I searched for the autopsy report. Omega destroyed Diablo’s organs from the inside like fucking stage five cancer. Unlike cancer, it had no bloody symptoms. And certainly, no cure.

At one point or another, all of Team Zero will end up like him.

Hades always knew that. So after Team Zero, he didn’t give the second generation of assassins a sniff of that drug. He wanted his killers alive.

After Diablo’s death, I started my battle against Omega. I refuse to die before trying to get my mates in Team Zero off this poison.

However, the withdrawal symptoms are so fucking painful and they’re now about to puncture my skull. If I don’t take the drug, I’ll be an easy target.

I glare at the fucking capsule. If I inject even one shot, not only my determination level will skyrocket, but I will also forget what the fuck I am in my search for my next kill. I don’t have a fucking choice. When the drug kicks in my system, I become a bloody robot with only one goal: kill.

That’s why we usually take our shots right before a mission. Those who don’t take killing contracts won’t be given their doses of Omega. Team Zero accepted a lot of contracts to have more Omega. Because this little capsule is not only addictive but also forbids us from thinking about anything. It blurs everything. Our memories. Our