that I no longer knew what it was like to work with someone.
But something stopped me.
She stood up to Ronan and said no. Whatever her reasons, no hired help would do that. And if I were being honest with myself, I was pretty sure she was telling the truth this time.
I re-holstered the gun.
“The rules still stand. You get one shot to fuck up and then I end you.”
“Glad to know this changed nothing,” she noted dryly.
Whatever I was going to say was cut off as a knock came at the door.
We both stilled, exchanging a cautious glance.
“I’m going to answer the door,” I said, speaking quietly. “Get behind the island and don’t use magic offensively, even if you’re in danger.”
“You got it,” Nathalie said, going to stand back behind the kitchen counter. She took another bite of her sandwich, waving me on when I gave her a peeved look.
I shook my head and walked silently to the door, careful to avoid the floorboard that creaks. My better hearing was picking up on the sounds of breathing coming from the hallway.
It was too erratic to be only one person.
I leaned forward, hovering over the eyehole into the hallway.
The barrel of a gun stared me down on the other side.
I barely had time to jump away from the door before a shot went off, followed by an explosion.
Flames consumed the front entrance to my apartment. I pulled myself up onto my elbows and then rolled onto my side.
Three bodies lay dead outside.
Hitmen.
I recognized one of them as Ronny. His face was angled to the side and blood dripped from his ears and nose. Silver shards stuck out from his face. The explosive bomb I had rigged to my door did its job.
I swallowed hard.
“I take it these are the assassins you were expecting?” Nathalie asked, her voice sounding too close to be coming from the kitchen. I glanced over my shoulder to see her standing only two feet away, face grim as she stared at the dead men. Or what was left of them.
“You would be correct.”
I got to my feet and approached the three.
Anders knew my record, which meant my boss did as well. This wasn’t a true hit. They expected me to kill these men. That’s why they sent Ronny. I liked him. Not romantically, but still more than I should have. Enough that I had to hide the wince every time my eyes grazed over his prone form.
This was a warning.
My time was up.
There was now a price on my head.
14
“We need to get out of here,” I said, turning away from the gaping hole where my front door should have been. Good thing I hadn’t paid the electric bill this week. “If my boss gave the order, Anders won’t have any qualms about handing out this address. We probably don’t have more than an hour before bounty hunters will be crawling all over the place.”
I was already starting for my room when Nathalie put her hand on my arm.
Before I could get annoyed, she said, “What do you need me to do?”
I looked her over. A decade of prejudice warring against the unyielding loyalty she’d given me. Loyalty I didn’t deserve.
“In my room under the bed there’s a backpack and a duffel bag already packed. Grab them both, we need to be out of here in the next five.”
She nodded once and went to grab the packs. I took a deep breath and turned for the second room. The one I avoided more than I should.
The handle turned easily, and the door swung open without much effort at all. It was clean to the point of almost sterile. Light blue walls with faded paint and a chipped white dresser with a twin bed were the only things giving it life. That and the twenty-three-year-old woman sleeping in it.
Her long brown hair splayed across the pillow in perfect, even waves. She never rolled or turned, so it stayed that way. Grease clung to the roots around her scalp from too long between washings. Her pale skin was even and smooth, but dry and unnaturally white from not seeing the light of day in so long. Her eyes were closed. Peaceful. A necklace hung from her neck, the thin silver chain unbreakable. It held a singular stone over the hollow of her throat that pulsed faintly. The magic in it was all that kept her alive. It prevented her body from wasting away and muscle atrophy from kicking in.
Guilt