Page 61 of Deadly Sights

We’re about to round the corner when the back door opens.

I reach for my knife, ready to attack if we’re put on the defensive.

“You take that side, I’ll take this side,” a woman says.

“Let’s get one thing straight. I take my orders from headquarters, not you. Unlike your just-out-of-training ass, I know how to do my fucking job.”

Julian and I share a glance. It’s unusual for contract killers to work together, at least not without trust. I understand unleashing the excessive manpower to shut us down which thisorganization has, but the least they could do is ensure the people they partner together can work together.

I guess Julian’s employers never encouraged the children to believe in each other. More so than ever, I’m thankful for the strength of the connection between me and Julian that’s kept him going all these years. As we wait in readiness to attack the first person to walk around the corner, something traveling at high velocity whizzes through the air and ends with a choked oomph and thud.

I look toward Julian, but he shrugs as in the dark as I am. Another whizz and thud follow. Convinced another entity discovered our position, I motion to Julian to back away. I take one step and stop when an arrow embeds in the side of the house. We duck and he tries to pull me away. I resist and point at the arrow. Dangling from the shaft is a note. I take the risk and sprint toward it and grab it. It’s lodged deep into the post under the siding, but I’m able to pull it free.

“What the hell?” I push the arrow into Julian’s chest and round the house.

The couple after us are lying in the snow, an arrow lodged in each of their hearts.

“Looks like you have someone else protecting you from the shadows.” Julian frowns at the note that says, ‘Happy Thanksgiving. Enjoy your gifts.’

“What I want to know is how all these people keep finding my whereabouts.”

“Until then, we have another house to sweep and a dinner to attend.”

While Julian hides the bodies, I check on the couple inside. Like the other residents, they were drugged or gassed into unconsciousness. Because of their age, I call for an ambulance and leave.

Taking precautions, we scout the area around Danae’s house. From the living room window, I spy Moni and Tamara lying unconscious on the floor like the rest of the homes I’ve been in, making me wonder if the reason the entire neighborhood is silent is that our foes filtered knockout gas inside the homes.

Julian and I go through the house to ensure no enemies lie in wait for us. Other than Moni, Danae, and Tamara, no one is inside. I wonder if I have the mysterious archer to thank for that. By the time we complete our search, Tamara moans. I nod toward the door and Julian follows my lead. We wait outside for the other inhabitants to show signs of life before we ring the doorbell.

While we sit tight, I can’t help but wonder why a person is missing from my crew.

CHAPTER 25

A WELCOMING THIRD DEGREE

Julian

While Nadira and I stand on the front porch and wait for her friends to situate themselves, I keep an eye out for other threats. From the increased activity, I can’t fully relax. The question about how everyone knows Nadira’s whereabouts needles the back of my head. There are only a handful of people who expected her to be here today, her four friends, me, and Alastair.

I know no one bugged us because Alastair and I sweep the house daily. And I have complete trust in Alastair. Thanks to me, he lives without looking over his shoulder. After all, he’s a former target. I would have killed him, too. Except when I snuck up on him, he was sitting beside a hospital bed inside his private residence. My curiosity got the better of me because nothing in his file mentioned this scenario.

When I moved closer, the image of him holding the small hand of an eight-year-old boy hit me in the gut. From theemaciated appearance of the child, the boy had little time left. I must have made a sound because Alastair glanced back at me. No surprise showed in his face, only weary resignation. But he pleaded for me to let him live until his son’s passing.

I still don’t know what stayed my hand, but I granted his request. For weeks, I watched him care for his son. His wife had passed some years ago and although he could afford a staff to look after the child, he did everything himself.

When I inquired, he said, “Because I’m selfish and I need to remember his last days. He was my wife’s last gift to me. When I was busy fighting for her life, she overruled me. Instead, she fought to bring him into the world. And when he was born, he looked just like my Emmaline. He still does. So how can I leave him in the hands of strangers? This is my last goodbye to the wife I’ve loved my whole life and to the future I thought I could have through my son.”

His devotion resonated with me, and each day that passed I was less inclined to kill him. When his son breathed his last, I gave him a new identity and faked his death. Alastair’s response was to work for me. I questioned how a man who employed hundreds could be satisfied as an employee for an absent employer.

He peered into my eyes and said, “Although my fight is over, you’re still looking for someone, whether to discover how they died or to live without them. Until your struggle is over, I’ll be at your side as repayment for a priceless debt.”

Ever since, he’s lived up to his word. He wouldn’t betray me when he’s experienced unimaginable heartache twice before. So that leaves Nadira’s friends, but I hesitate to point the truth out to her. Not without evidence. She’s fiercely loyal and any hint of betrayal will devastate her.

Someone inside turns the radio on and the tune of a Christmas song plays loud enough for us to hear outside. Nadirarings the bell, and a light-skinned Black woman rubbing her temple opens the door. She’s the one Nadira calls Tamara. My preliminary check into her background didn’t raise any red flags, but after the last few events, I’ll be doing a deeper dive into her history; hers and the rest of Nadira’s friends.

I plaster a smile on my face and say “Happy Thanksgiving!” along with Nadira.

“You made it. Come in.” Tamara takes the dish from my hands and beckons us inside. “Come on, let’s do the introductions one time. Chelsea will be upset she missed this, but it can’t be helped.”

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