Page 87 of Pulled By the Tail
“I’m okay,” she said. “Who was that?” She shook her head. “I guess I know who he was. I mean why? Why did he want to kill you?”
“That was an amateur. He should have dealt with you one by one, rather than round you up for a show,” Charl said as he went through the male’s pockets. “At least, that’s what I would have done. Better crowd control.”
His friend really was a frightening male.
“Standards have fallen if Esteem is hiring cut-rate assassins,” Quil said.
“But now?” Talen asked. After so many years had passed. The brothers had honored their end of the agreement, assumed new identities with the best forgeries money could buy, and never set foot on Talmar again.
“This may shed some light on your questions.” Charl held up a piece of paper.
“How utterly primitive,” Quil said, opening the folded sheet. “It’s a list of names.” He frowned. “I think these are family members. I’m not sure. Distant relations, maybe.”
Talen took the list but recognized none of the names. “Our cousin Esteem is removing those who could challenge his title.” That is what the assassin claimed.
“I know this name.” Quil tapped the paper. “Uncle Forthright had a bastard daughter. She was an infant.”
Fuzzy memories of holding a crying kit came to mind and a nursemaid scolding him for holding the kit too tightly. “What happened to her?”
“Presumably the same thing that happened to us. Forthright was a bit more perceptive than our parents and, hopefully, had enough sense to send the kit away,” Quil said.
“We have a cousin? She’s been alone all this time.” They could have been searching for her. Talen and Quil had each other but this kit had no one. He couldn’t imagine the hardship of being away from home, too young to remember anything or anyone.
Quil’s hand on his shoulder interrupted his thoughts. “We barely escaped. We were too young to do a search and rescue. It took everything to keep us one step ahead of his lot.” Quil gave the dead assassin a kick.
“Your cousin must be dealt with,” Charl said. He held the assassin’s communication device. “That list is not for a family reunion.”
“Agreed.” Talen gave the list to Charl. “You will handle this.”
“You’re my family and no one gets to order a hit on my family without consequences,” Charl said.
“You are one scary fucker,” Georgia said.
Charl never spoke about his time in the Navy, or his life before joining the service, but Talen knew that the male enlisted already equipped with several deadly skills. He was patient and precise. There could be no one better to solve this problem and keep Talen’s family safe.
“Esteem will want proof that the assassin succeeded,” Quil said.
“You are correct.” Talen grabbed Quil roughly and slammed him, face first, into the stone wall.
“What the fuck! My nose!” Blood gushed down his face. He clutched his broken nose, spreading the mess. “Why did you do that? We could have used paint!”
“Authenticity matters,” Talen said, quoting Quil at his most intractable about doing repairs the expensive way for the house.
Charl muttered about brothers. “Lay on the ground and don’t blink,” he directed. Using the assassin’s communication device, he took a photo.
Quil clambered to his feet and used a handkerchief to scrub at his face. “This is monogrammed and now it’s ruined. I’ll never get the stain out.”
“Stop being so fussy,” Talen said.
Quil finally seemed to notice his former mate, still bound and whimpering on the wood chip-strewn floor. “He’s dead. Oh my God,” Fiona sobbed. “How could you?”
“He was going to kill us,” Georgia said in a serenely calm voice.
“You! Not me. We had a deal. I never got my money.” More pitiful mewling, the eye makeup running with tears.
Quil remained unmoved by this sight, which pleased Talen. Perhaps his brother had finally learned his lesson. Too bad his choice in mate brought a viper into their den.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Shut the fuck up, you selfish bitch,” Georgia snapped. Her tiny fists balled with anger. “He was never going to pay you for the thing you stole, and he was totally going to murder all of us.”
