Page 33 of Exes, Hexes, and Strategy
He moved so fast, he blurred before her eyes. His hand latched hard around her throat and squeezed, lifting Nina completely off the floor. Her feet kicked for purchase as her hands gripped and clawed ineffectually at Vincent DeMarco’s wrist. Unable to breathe, incapable of focusing as true fear suffused her, the water she’d intended to use as a weapon splashed to the floor, soaking into the plush fibers of the carpet less than a foot away from her target.
Her vision was blurring, turning black at the edges as she looked into DeMarco’s face, a face so like Rafe’s it hurt her heart to see. He sneered at her contemptuously. “You dare use your powers against me, witch?” His eyes went red, and his fangs elongated as he yelled, “Against me!”
Nina may not be able to focus enough to bring forth her magic again, but she wasn’t about to give up. Her car keys were still looped around her finger, the ring grinding painfully into the knuckle as she held onto him. She let go of DeMarco’s wrist, flipped the keys outward, and slashed at his face, aiming for his eyes.
His grip on her throat lessened just a touch, just enough for her to suck in a much-needed breath as his head lurched back to avoid her unexpected attack. She’d missed his eyes, but managed to swipe his cheek, she saw. Dots of red blood welled, and she took an almost savage pleasure in the knowledge that she’d hurt him.
His smile was a cold, cruel thing. “So you want to play rough?”
The grip around her neck tightened to the point where she was sure he was going to crush her windpipe. Her gasps for air were hard and choking as he drew her face closer to his until they were nose to nose. “I like it rough.”
He threw her away from him then, and Nina crashed hard, splintering the polished wooden coffee table she’d landed on. Curling into a ball in an attempt to lessen the pain, she coughed, her lungs spasming as she attempted to suck in air past her bruised throat.
She would have crawled away, but DeMarco was suddenly there, crouched beside her, hovering over her. “You will die tonight, witch,” he told her almost gently. His hand reached out to touch her hair and she flinched away, not that that would stop him.
“But not yet.” He produced a phone and waved it in front of her face. “First, we have to wait for Raphael to arrive. I wouldn’t want him to miss this.”
Nina closed her eyes, her heart feeling like it had broken into a thousand bloody shards in her chest. Rafe would come for her, she had no doubt, and his monster of a father would force him to watch as he killed her. It would destroy him. Oh, Rafe, she thought, as tears welled in her eyes.
Outside, it began to rain.
∞∞∞
Ramirez had finished the job. He’d watched to make sure the flowers had been delivered, and that the woman had left right on schedule before he’d contacted DeMarco. That done, he’d waited for notification that his payment had hit his account. Now, all he had to do was pack up his shit and get the hell out of there, move on to whatever mission came his way next.
A prickle on the back of his neck warned him he was no longer alone, and he spun around, dagger in hand. He barely saw a flash of his assailant before he was on his back in the dirt, disarmed, and staring up at the barrel of a gun.
Moving his head slightly, so he could see, Ramirez grinned. Morgan Rhys. Beautiful and positively lethal. “Morgan,” he said with a slight dip of his chin in greeting. “It’s been a long time.”
“Ramirez,” she responded not bothering to lower her weapon. “If you were looking for an instructor position, you could have come to the door.”
He shrugged, never losing his smile. “I doubt you could afford me.”
“Want to tell me what you're doing here then?”
“First,” he said, holding up a finger, truly curious. “Tell me what gave me away.”
Morgan shrugged up a shoulder, all casual-like, but that gun in his face didn’t waver for a second. “Spotted a glint where there shouldn’t have been one. Off your binocularsprobably.”
Damn, she was good. Honestly, if he ever decided to work with a partner, she’d be the first person he’d approach.
“Now why are you here?” she repeated.
He shrugged, he'd already been paid and his loyalty had always been to his own ass. An ass Morgan wouldn't hesitate to start filling with holes if he didn’t answer. The woman was definitely not squeamish. If it suited her purpose, she’d have no problem making him scream.
“I was set to watch Nina Errani,” he told her. “Vincent DeMarco hired me, thinks his son has been bewitched by her.” He rolled his eyes before adding, “But whatever, it’s a job.”
Morgan hissed a quiet curse and lowered the gun, though she didn’t put it away, and Ramirez wasn’t stupid enough to think that she couldn’t have it back in his face in a heartbeat if he made the slightest move.
“Is DeMarco coming here?” she demanded.
“Already is,” he informed her. “The woman, Nina, thinks she's meeting the son tonight, but it's the father who's waiting. He intends to kill her.”
“You son of a bitch,” she snarled, her eyes flashing red. “That’s one of my students.”
As if he cared, he almost snorted, but he did volunteer, “You probably still have time, swoop in, do the whole hero thing. I got the impression DeMarco wasn't looking to kill her quickly.”
Her gun was back in his face. “Where are they?”
