Page 64 of An Assassin's Death
Facing the devil at the pulpit.
Twenty-Eight
Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell
I gritmy teeth through Armond’s speech, working hard to keep my true feelings from being expressed on my face or in my body language.
His long, drawn out welcome is eye-roll worthy, but I simply smirk and give a little golf clap of an applause at all the appropriate places. I keep my eyes trained at the front of the church, deducing who could be secret cohorts with Armond.
If this new idiot’s stupid, he’ll walk right up to Armond when he’s done posturing. However, I’m not sure I’ll be that lucky. If he’s smart enough to work behind the scenes to create some kind of super weapon with Armond, then he’s smart. Smarter than me. But I don’t need to be smart tonight. I need to be deadly.
I barely notice the cool press of steel against my thigh. Having a weapon with me is a comfort.
As Armond finishes, his eyes scan the crowd, nearly falling right on me. I move, walking slowly behind some other party goers, using them as cover.
“Drink?” The rumble of the masculine voice makes me smirk. I look up into the dreamy blue eyes of a… waiter?
Hmm, sexy staff they have here tonight.
“Why yes.” I smile up at Jameson as I pick up one of the crystal glasses of champagne. “Thank you.” Bubbles play over my tongue as I take a small sip.
“Don’t you make a pretty picture.” He tucks his now empty tray beneath his arm and circles around me, taking in the full effect of the white dress that clings just enough to my figure. When the back of his hand brushes against mine, I tangle my fingers with his for one brief moment. An electric energy stings through my veins and my eyes widen as I realize I just stole some of his power. The warm look in his eyes is still there as if he doesn’t notice the pull of his ability into me at all.
It’ll help tonight. I know it will. If anything goes wrong I'll have his power. I just wish I had more control over my abilities.
“You don’t look so bad yourself.” He wears a button down black shirt and black dress pants that lead to a pair of shined black dress shoes. The uniform looks the same as the other waiters hovering around the room offering drinks and appetizers, but the way Jameson wears it—with his signature confidence—takes him leagues above all the others in the room. I look up at him from under my lashes, and his eyes dance and sparkle in the candlelit room.
“Even the mask makes you look sexy as hell.”
I arch an eyebrow he can’t see. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
“Fuck yeah. You’ve got that whole sexy and mysterious vixen vibe going on, babe. And the best part is that I know when I remove that mask later tonight, I’m going to get to see the rest of your beautiful face.” He wiggles his eyebrows and I can’t help but laugh. Trust Jameson to set me at ease during the most stressful mark I’ve ever taken on.
“Well luckily, there are others wearing masks here so I don’t stand out.” I look around, making my point. Assassins are not trusting creatures by nature, and that works in my favor tonight.
“Oh, you most certainly stand out, Lex.” Pure sex radiates from every word. His eyes undress me, making me wish I was anywhere else with him other than in this room. With a wink, he moves through the crowd—leaving me alone. Yet, I don’t feel quiet as alone as I had earlier.
Strains of a popular song strike up from the orchestra as they take a radio hit and turn it into a classical masterpiece.
I keep my eyes on the target. Armond is schmoozing with his fans, outwardly flirting with every woman with a pulse, as he works his way through the crowd.
I assess each person, quickly dismissing each one as the potential higher power Tylin mentioned.
Groups start to gather along the edges of the room, large stained-glass windows looming over their heads, each depicting a different holy scene that I know nothing about.
Keeping my attention on Armond, I move to the outskirts and let myself wander past the clusters of people, seeing if I can pick up any conversation that would be helpful.
Nothing.
A growl works its way up my throat becausemyplans aren’t going accordingly. Plans that the guys know nothing about.
Flicking my eyes to the balcony, I expect to see Mason hidden in plain sight, but I see nothing. Shifting shadows catch my attention as I go to lower my gaze. Someoneisup there.
I smile at a passing waiter and move to get a better, deeper view of the balcony. The moments that pass before I allow myself another glance skyward are tense, each muscle in my body responding to my internal stress.
A male steps to the edge of the shadows, the light lifting the inky gray colors just enough to reveal Tylin to me. The expensive cut and midnight sheen of his tux make an impressive figure. I swallow. The elevated stature of the balcony makes it seem like he lords over the gathering, making us all his subjects. I know in that moment that Tylin would make a much better leader than Armond ever could. Especially if he changed the League’s intent. For the first time in my life, I have a choice. Tonight? Tonight will be my last assassination.
A jarring bump sends me staggering forward as someone runs into me from behind. Power surges in my veins and I prepare to attack. Jameson’s essence vibrates within me. I search it out, finding it stored deep within myself.
