Chapter Three
Flint wiped down his rifle for the third time that morning, even though it didn’t need it.
The repetitive motion usually calmed him, but his hands felt unsteady.
It had been three days since Pax found him crying in the greenhouse, three days of checking every slight movement beyond the tree line at night, hoping that a wolf was looking for him and praying he wasn’t.
Three very long days of pretending the hollow ache in his chest was just heartburn.
The knock on his door made him flinch.
“It’s just me,” Cyrus called through the wood.
Flint set the rifle down carefully and crossed to open the door. Cyrus stood on his porch holding two paper bags that smelled like bacon and coffee. Cyrus’s expression was gentle but assessing - the look he got when he was worried but trying not to show it.
“I figured you might be hungry.”
“I ate.” That was a flat-out lie. Flint couldn’t remember the last time he felt like eating.
Cyrus raised an eyebrow. “You have a garbage can full of coffee pods, and the boys said you haven’t been near the grill in a week.”
Flint stepped aside to let him in. His small cabin was tidy.
He’d spent the last few days cleaning everything he could reach just to keep his hands busy.
He hadn’t dared shift because his snake was keen on leaving the Alley and tracking down their errant wolf - and as he couldn’t stop crying at random moments, working in the greenhouse was done in small doses.
Cyrus set the bags on the kitchen counter and started unpacking.
He’d brought bacon buns and hash browns from Gwen’s Bakery and fresh fruit, which was probably a donation from Storm’s latest grocery haul.
The crocodile spent a lot of time trying to dissuade Pax from eating so many donuts. He hadn’t been successful so far.
“You didn’t have to…”
“I wanted to.” Cyrus handed him a coffee exactly how he liked it - black with two sugars. “Besides, I need to talk to you about a job.”
Flint’s stomach twisted. He wasn’t sure he could focus enough to take a shot at a barn door and guarantee he’d hit it in his current state.
Every time he thought about working, his mind kept replaying that night at the bar, Arrow’s dismissive sneer, the casual cruelty in assuming Flint was nothing more than a body to use. “Can’t someone else take it?”
“It’s urgent, with only a small window for any chance of success.
The job specifically requires a sniper with your skill set.
” Cyrus pulled out a tablet and brought up the file.
“The target’s a rogue vampire operating out of London.
He’s been trafficking shifter children through a network we’ve been trying to crack for two years.
We finally got a location, but he’s only going to be there for seventy-two hours before he moves again. ” He handed over his tablet.
Flint scanned the details, his professional instincts kicking in despite himself. Third-floor apartment. Limited sight lines. Narrow window of opportunity. “This is a difficult shot.” He passed the tablet back.
“That’s why I need you.” Cyrus met his eyes. “I could send Storm or Levi, but they’d have to get close. This bastard has bodyguards, wards, and a habit of killing anyone who gets within fifty feet of him. You’re the only one who can take him from a distance without being detected.”
Because no one ever sees me coming. The thought should have brought satisfaction, but instead it just reminded Flint why - everyone underestimated the small blond snake. Even his own mate.
“I don’t know if I can…”
“Flint, you can. You know you can. This is the sort of job you were born to do.” Cyrus’s voice was firm but not unkind. “What Arrow did was shitty. How he treated you was wrong on every level. But your work? That’s something you have control over. That’s something you should be proud of.”
Flint looked down at his hands. They’d stopped shaking. “I just keep thinking...if my own mate thinks I’m useless, maybe…”
“Stop that.” Cyrus set the tablet down and waited until Flint met his eyes again.
“Arrow’s an idiot wolf with his head up his ass.
What he thinks doesn’t change the fact that you’re amazing at what you do.
It doesn’t change the fact that you’ve saved lives, stopped monsters, and done work most people couldn’t even dream of accomplishing. ”
“He didn’t even ask my name,” Flint whispered.
“He knows it now.” Cyrus’s expression darkened. “And he’s going to have to live with that. But right now, there are kids in danger. Kids who need someone with your specific talents to save them.”
The words hit home. Flint had been one of those kids once - not trafficked, but abandoned. Left to fend for himself because he was too small, too weak, not worth keeping around. He’d built himself into something dangerous specifically so no one could dismiss him like that again.
Except Arrow had anyway.
“Private plane?” Flint asked quietly. “I’m going to want my own weapons for this one.”
“Wheels up in four hours. You’ll be back in two days, three at the most.” Cyrus pulled out a burner phone and set it on the counter. “Everything you need is in the file. Contact information, safe house location, and exit strategy. Python already arranged the flight.”
Flint picked up the phone, turning it over in his hands. Three days away from Montana. Three days where he could focus on something more useful than wondering if the wolf shifter was suffering the same mate-pull pain that had Flint waking up hard and aching every morning.
“Arrow’s been in touch, by the way,” Cyrus added as if he could read Flint’s thoughts.
Flint’s head snapped up. “What? When?”
“He texted me a few days ago and asked how to apologize to you properly.” Cyrus’s mouth quirked. “I told him to figure it out for himself.”
“Oh.” Flint wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Part of him had assumed Arrow would just move on, find someone else to warm his bed. Wolves were possessive about mates, but they were also proud, too proud to grovel.
“You know what wolves are like,” Cyrus continued, pouring himself coffee from the second cup. “Pride’s everything to them. The fact that he reached out at all? That’s significant.”
“He slapped my ass and told me to cook his dinner.”
“I know. And I’m not saying you should forgive him.
” Cyrus took a sip of coffee. “I’m just saying.
..by the time you get back in three days, he’ll probably be begging for a chance to kiss your feet.
The mating pull gets worse the longer you’re apart.
If he’s feeling even a fraction of what you’re dealing with, he’s going to be desperate. ”
Flint wasn’t sure how he felt about Arrow suffering. The mating pull was hellishly strong, but Flint wasn’t sure he wanted to be with a mate who was essentially forced to be with him. Just thinking about that made the ache in his chest worse.
“What if he apologizes and I still can’t forgive him?”
“Then that’s your choice.” Cyrus set down his coffee and met Flint’s eyes directly.
“The bond doesn’t mean you owe him anything.
It doesn’t mean you have to accept shitty treatment.
Are you going to be in pain for the rest of your life if you refuse him?
Yes. You know that. But you’ve handled pain before, and that’s never a good reason to accept less than you deserve.
You deserve someone who sees you for who you are - a skilled, dangerous, and incredible person.
If Arrow can’t do that, then he doesn’t deserve you. ”
The words settled into Flint’s bones, warming something that had gone cold. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Just go do what you do best.” Cyrus pushed the bacon bun toward him. “And eat something before you get on that plane. I don’t care how upset you are, you’re not going to work on an empty stomach.”
Flint picked up the bun. His appetite was still nonexistent, but Cyrus was right. He needed fuel and he needed to focus. Most of all, especially seeing as he was going on a job, he needed to remember that he was more than what one wolf shifter thought of him.
“The target.” Flint reached across the table and tapped the tablet, studying the vampire’s face. “Any complications I should know about?”
“He’s got a day-walker working for him. Human-passing, but fast. She’ll be the one doing his daytime errands.
” Cyrus swiped through the photos. “This leads us to assume he’s only a young vampire, given the sun still makes him feel uncomfortable, although that’s not been verified.
You’ll need to time your shot for when he’s alone.
The window’s between six and eight p.m. London time.
He sends her out to pick up dinner, giving you a two-hour gap. ”
“Will there be wards on the building?”
“Python’s contact in London will handle those. They’ll be down for exactly fifteen minutes. You’ll have one shot.”
One shot. That’s all Flint ever needed, especially with the specialty bullets only available to agency assassins. Vampires typically required decapitation to kill them, but there were exceptions, and it looked like this was one of them.
Pushing all thoughts of Arrow aside, Flint felt something shift inside him - his professional self - sliding over his skin like a well-fitted suit.
His work made sense to him. All he had to do was point, breathe, squeeze the trigger, and then treat himself to a steaming hot chocolate afterward.
There was no emotion involved, and since starting with the agency, Flint knew there would be no complications either.
The agency never sent anyone out on a job unless it had been firmly vetted, and all conditions and variables had been considered. I can do this.
“I’ll do it,” he said out loud.
Cyrus’s expression softened with what looked like relief. “I’m glad. Expect Python to swing by and pick you up. He’s offered to take you to the airport.”
“I can drive myself.” Flint always preferred having his own transport.
“I know you can. But this way you don’t have to leave your truck at the airport for three days.
” Cyrus finished his coffee and started gathering the bags.
“Besides, Python hasn’t been able to drive anyone for two days because I’ve been busy at the workshop.
You’d be doing me a favor, getting him out of my hair for five minutes. ”
Despite everything, Flint felt his mouth twitch. Python and his cars. Some things never changed.
“Flint.” Cyrus paused at the door. “What Arrow did was wrong. But what you do - what you’ve built yourself into - that’s solid. Don’t let some idiot wolf make you forget that.”
“I won’t.” Flint meant it. Or at least, he wanted to mean it, and for now, that would have to be good enough.
After Cyrus left, Flint stood in his small kitchen and ate the bacon bun slowly. Through the window, he could see his greenhouse catching the morning light. The strawberries would be fine for three days. It’s not like they needed watering, because he’d done enough of that already.
His phone - his real phone, not the burner - sat on the counter where he’d left it. No new messages. No missed calls. Arrow hadn’t tried to contact him directly, which should have brought relief. Instead, Flint felt oddly hollow.
By the time you get back, he’ll be begging to kiss your feet.
Did he want that? Did he want to see the proud wolf brought low? Or did he just want Arrow to see him, really see him, as someone worth knowing?
Flint didn’t have an answer. He washed his dishes, packed a small bag with a change of clothes, and checked his rifle case one more time.
He was going to London to kill a vampire - a job he’d been given because he was the best at what he did.
His actions would mean kids would be saved, and in the grand scheme of things, that was what was important.
He could survive three days and maybe, by the time he got back, Flint would know what he wanted to say to a mate who’d broken his heart before they’d barely had a chance to build anything meaningful.
Python’s Maserati - because of course it was the Maserati - pulled up exactly on time.
Python didn’t believe in being subtle. Flint grabbed his bags and headed out, not bothering to lock the door.
No one ever did in the Alley. The demon leaned against the hood, dark sunglasses reflecting the Montana sky.
“Ready to kill some trash?”
“Always.”
Python grinned as he grabbed Flint’s bag and popped the trunk. “That’s my boy. Now get in before Cyrus changes his mind and decides I need to give you another pep talk. I already maxed out my emotional support quota for the month and really can’t give anymore.”
Chuckling, Flint slid into the leather seat, his mind already on the job. Point, breathe, and squeeze the trigger. I can do this. I know I can.