5. Finley #2
Looking deeper into the woods, I spied an old oak tree that had a thick trunk and sturdy branches, so I bolted toward it.
I ran as far up the trunk as I could before I grabbed a sturdy branch, pulling myself into the tree.
With no leaves to hide me, I needed to get higher into the denser branches to obscure my presence.
Tucked away, I watched a helicopter take flight. I just knew Delilah was on it, but I wasn’t worried. I was patient, and she wouldn’t get away again.
Even though the guards were still on the lookout for me, they had retreated to the security of the guard house with the release of the crazed shifters.
Some fought against each other, filling the air with the sounds of snarling and howls.
Perched in the oak tree, rifle in hand, I picked off any shifters that came near until there was a wide circle of dead animals around me.
When I didn’t see movement for a good half hour, I started my way downward, keeping my senses alert to anything that might be stalking me in the darkness.
Dropping to the ground, I paused and crouched.
Watching, waiting, listening. The air had gone eerily quiet, as if a new predator had entered the playing field.
Keeping low to the ground, I headed back to the house.
I needed to make sure all evidence of my presence was removed before what happened here was discovered.
Ditching the guns, needing to move unencumbered, I darted across the open area to the back door of the house.
I snagged a handgun from one of the dead guards as I passed, checking to see what ammo they had in the clip and swearing when I saw it was loaded with normal bullets.
They would slow down a super, but they wouldn’t kill them.
It was better than nothing, though. I just had to get to Maxwell’s room, where my personal weapons were hidden.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I moved as efficiently and quietly as possible until I found the Sunflower Room.
I burst into the room and dropped to my knees next to the bed, pulling out the hard-shell briefcase that held everything I needed.
Entering the code and pressing my thumb to the fingerprint reader, the case popped open.
Snugly packed inside were two black-coated silver daggers and my favorite Smith & Wesson 9mm handgun with a silencer attachment.
Shrugging off my clothes, I pulled out my black spandex bodysuit from the upper portion of the case, then grabbed the extra clips of silver ammo, forearm sheaths for my daggers, and my shoulder holster.
I paused a moment to look at my arm and the bloody mess it was.
Probably not a great idea to pull the body suit on over that.
Heading to the bathroom, I rinsed it off then scrubbed it with soap, trying to lessen the scent of my blood.
It was a losing battle since it was still weeping, and my arm throbbed with a deep, dull ache.
But that didn’t mean I could rest. Unless we were knocked unconscious or had a fear of bleeding out, we weren’t allowed to stop.
The Organization had trained us better than that.
Pushing through the pain was as much a mental exercise as a physical one.
Grabbing the toilet paper, I wrapped up my arm the best I could, knowing it wasn’t going to do much at this point.
With the arm temporarily tended, I tugged on the black spandex and zipped it up to my chin.
Ripping off the wig I’d been wearing, I pulled my hair up into a bun and secured it with some hair pins I found in the medicine cabinet.
It was stocked full of anything you could have possibly forgotten.
Suited up and armed, I was ready to wipe my existence off the map of this place.
I walked over to the bedroom’s fireplace and turned on the gas after blowing out the pilot light.
Systematically, I did this in all the bedrooms until I made it back to the room with all the dead bodies in it.
As far as I could tell, the house was empty of anyone alive.
Then, as I passed through the kitchen, I turned on all the burners, making damn sure nothing remaining on this property would survive.
Knowing I didn’t have long before this bomb of a house went off, I booked it out the door and into the forest. With a plan in place to get off the property and to the vehicle hidden miles away, I started to jog my way through the dense trees.
The clear sky and the almost full moon gave me enough light that I wasn’t too worried about falling and hurting myself.
Moments later, the ground shook as the sky lit up with the explosion of the house, the echo of explosive force almost knocking me off my feet.
With the added light of the fire, I was able to pick up my speed until a dark shadow burst out of the undergrowth, crashing into me and slamming me to the ground.
A panther stood on my chest, its glaringly white teeth bared at me.
Claws dug into the skin of my shoulders, causing me to hiss as I took the butt of my dagger and slammed it into its skull.
Once it was dazed, I was able to shove it off me, and when I rolled out from under it, I crouched low, both daggers at the ready.
Shaking its head clear, the panther turned and growled at me before it tried to pounce again.
This time, I was ready, slamming into the big cat and tossing it to the side with all my body weight.
Once we landed, I shoved my dagger up and under its jaw, praying it was long enough to reach the brain.
The thrashing panther tried to dislodge my hold, but I put more weight behind the dagger and twisted, ignoring the claws marring my flesh.
Finally, the panther went limp, its body sagging to the ground.
Dislodging my dagger, I fell back on my ass, panting as I took in the scene.
I had just bested a panther with nothing but a dagger.
There was no way I should have survived that, but now that I had shifter DNA already flowing through my body, it seemed I was a little tougher to kill.
Was this supposed to happen so fast? That wasn’t taught in any of our training.
Once my heart rate started to lower, I heard soft cries in the direction the panther had come from.
Slowly, I got to my feet and staggered toward the sound. It really was a terrible idea, but I didn’t like to think someone was suffering. A killer I might be, but I was fast and efficient. I like clean, simple kills. The world was filled with enough suffering of its own.
Naked and curled up in a ball, Cory laid on the ground in his human body.
As I got closer, I could see he was trying to hold his guts in as he sobbed.
The damage the panther had done was too great for him to shift back to try to heal it.
Dropping to my knees by his head, I reached out and combed my fingers through his blood-soaked hair, trying to offer what little comfort I could.
“Cory,” I whispered, “I can help you. Would you like me to do that for you?”
He looked up at me, tears streaming down his cheeks, before he latched on to my other hand, his skin slick with his own blood. “What’s your real name? I want to know the name of the person who will end this life of pain.”
“Finley. My name is Finley,” I answered.
I didn’t know if it was because I liked Cory as a person, or if it was something to do with the fact that he’d bitten me, but I needed him to know why I was here. That I was going to fix what had happened here, that I had failed my job… and him, in a way.
“Cory, I’m an assassin.” His eyes widened at this. “The Senate put out a kill order on Delilah, and I was the one who was supposed to do it. I failed, but know this—Delilah will die by my hand. That is a promise, and I don’t make those lightly.”
Cory clutched my hand tighter as he looked at me with a glimmer of hope. “An omega who’s an assassin. There might be a chance for you to survive this life.” He gasped and started coughing up blood. “Find Colt Harris—my brother. He will keep you safe. Finley, I’m sorry…”
I couldn’t handle listening to him suffer anymore, so as he talked, I deftly slid my knife between his ribs and into his heart. “Shh, it’s all over now. Be free to run unafraid into the next life.”
The light dimmed in his eyes, and I knew he was gone. Wiping my dagger off on my leg, I slid it back into the sheath, then closed Cory’s eyes for the last time.
I waited a moment before I took a deep breath and got to my feet. There were still miles to run before all this was over, and I needed to get somewhere safe to lay low.