Chapter Two
Ezra
Sitting on the old picnic table in a wooded area behind the closed bar, I take out my knife and begin peeling my apple.
I hate the peel. I’ve been driving all day, and I’m hungry.
I’m ready for the day to be over. The hotel room I booked looks promising, and I’m hoping the bed is as soft as advertised.
Owen should be arriving soon. Nasty man.
All it took to get him to meet me was a series of sweet notes.
Granted, he thinks I’m a teenage girl ready to live on the wild side.
I’m excited to see his expression when he realizes he’s not getting the fix for his evil habit.
I’ve been following him for weeks, learning his routine, habits, and the best way to draw him out.
He travels to different states, and I wasn’t expecting him to come here.
An influential, rich man contracted me to find Owen and kill him.
Unfortunately, he assaulted the man’s daughter.
The girl remembered his face and name, an image I’m sure is burned into her brain.
I’m astonished by the balls it takes to torture a young girl and let her live.
He’s conceited, and the worst kind of man.
The human police aren’t working fast enough.
The girl's dad wants revenge, but doesn’t want to bloody his hands to do it.
I understand, yet if I had a daughter who went through what she did, I would burn the world down to find her abuser.
Luckily, there are men like me who don’t mind a little violence and blood to make things right.
I’m an assassin.
I love my job. People pay me to kill men who abuse and torture.
I get to see the world, make money, and rid the world of people who shouldn’t be allowed to live.
The world is my home, and I have several houses.
I don’t have to worry about paying the bills, and I sleep like a baby on comfortable beds because of the money it earns me.
My skills make stalking and killing them easy.
Sometimes, I prolong it just to make it more challenging.
I’m a fox shifter and have all kinds of fun capabilities.
I have enhanced senses, an agile, strong body, but my favorite gift is the power to shapeshift.
I could kill Owen in the middle of the street, and no one would be able to identify me.
I distort my face so no camera or human can accurately describe me.
My features shifting into a generic face, and they can become disoriented when they look at me. It’s a handy power.
Taking a bite of my treat, my earbud alerts me to a call, and I grin.
“Answer,” I say, and eat another piece.
“I saw you called. Are you in town?”
“Yeah. I’m busy now. Tomorrow I’ll be free.
” Allie is an old friend. We met years ago and have remained close ever since.
We don’t see each other often, but we talk regularly.
Anytime we are in the same area, we grab some food.
She is a vampire, and the only female friend I have.
Her brothers are recently mated, and I promised I would reach out.
I’ve heard good things about a rabbit shifter named Sally who keeps them on their toes.
“Is there a bad guy in town?” she asks.
“There are bad guys everywhere,” I hum, twirling my knife, watching the piece of apple on the end. “He won’t be anything soon.”
“Shit, Ezra,” she laughs. “Did I call in the middle of the killing?”
The best part about our friendship is that she doesn’t judge me. I like to think it’s my sparkling personality, but more likely, she's seen the horrors of the world. Plus, her brothers can be a bit ruthless.
“Not in the middle.” I grin as I see a man shuffling down the alley. “Soon.” He looks over his right shoulder and then his left.
“Only you,” she sighs. “Let’s set up a meal for tomorrow night. That should give you enough time to clean the blood off.”
“You know me better,” I say softly, too low for the human to hear. “I kill them clean.”
I have a special black tarp I use, and all I have to do is wait for him to step on it, kill him, and zip him up.
I wait patiently as he moves closer. He won’t see my true face, but the form and face of a girl, Jasmine, with whom he’s been communicating.
I can choose when to reveal myself. It's a shame because I rather like the way I look. My blond hair is just the right thickness, and I’ve had several women compliment my yellow-gold eyes.
“Ezra?” Allie whispers.
“One sec,” I mumble, and she scoffs.
Owen approaches cautiously, tilting his head as he stares at my face. My illusion is in place, but he senses something is off, though he doesn’t know what.
“Jasmine?” he asks. I wait. He needs to take two more steps. “Don’t be shy,” he grins, and I sneer. He steps on the tarp and looks down. “What the hell?”
I ease to my feet and pinch the blade of my knife.
“Emma says, enjoy hell,” I reveal my face as I throw the knife, and he focuses on me. His mouth drops, but he doesn’t have time to utter another word. The blade impales his head, dead center. My aim is never off.
He drops to the ground, blood oozing down his face, and a rush of breath leaves his mouth.
I move to him, nudge him with my boot so he’s lying flat, and watch him die.
Concealing my face, I take out the phone I use for business, bite the remaining apple, and hold it between my teeth.
Navigating to the camera, I center the dead man on the screen and take a picture.
I find my contact and send proof of his death.
Job done.
“You actually did that with me on the phone,” Allie says, laughing. I slip my phone in my pocket and bite down before gripping my snack.
“I didn’t want to be rude and hang up,” I say, chewing.
“I can’t believe you.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” I say dryly.
Finished eating, I put the remains in a ziplock bag and put it in my pocket to dispose of elsewhere. I lean down, retrieve my knife, wipe the blood onto his shirt, and sheath it.
“You are the calmest, deadliest motherfucker I know,” she sighs.
“Don’t tell your brothers. They’ll be offended that they didn’t make the cut.” Leaning over the body, my legs spread wide, I close the tarp. “Do you know of a convenient place to dispose of a body?”
“Shit,” she says.
“I have my supplies, but I don’t know the area.” I glance around me, ensuring I’m still alone.
“You came to the right place. Do you prefer the woods or a building with a drain?”
“The drain.” I grab the end of the material and drag him toward my vehicle. “I don’t mind the woods, but my method is better going down a pipe. Plus, I don’t want him to stink up the forest.”
“I’ll ask Atlas. Don’t forget about tomorrow night.”
“I won’t. Thanks, doll.” She hangs up, so I don’t have to pause; my hands are full.
I drop the heavy weight and open the back door of my car.
Most of the time, I use different transportation to study my targets, but when it’s time to dispose of them, I prefer to use this one.
It’s modified for my needs. I pull on the latch where the spare tire usually goes, but instead of a rubber tire, there is room to store things as big as Owen.
Propping the door wide, I lift him and throw him inside.
Once he’s settled, I close him in, latch it, and close the back doors.
My phone vibrates as I walk around the side.
I wait to check it until I settle in the driver's seat, belt in, and start the car.
Allie sent me an address and warned me that another vampire named Bash would meet me there.
Entering the location in the system, I drive away, grateful it’s not far.
I’ve never met any of her friends, and I wonder how she is connected to him.
She is a social vampire, so it doesn’t surprise me that she has someone she can call in the middle of the night.
Vampires are creatures of the night, but not because they can’t be in the sun.
They don’t sleep much and can live forever.
I have a healthy respect for her species, but don’t fear them.
We can be friends as long as you aren’t a shit person.
I don’t have many friends. It’s hard to make meaningful relationships when I travel all the time.
I don’t date. When I want a woman, I make my intentions clear, and we have fun for a night or two.
I haven’t found a mate yet, much to my mom's dismay. She is the best woman who has walked the earth, and I make sure to tell her that as much as I can. We talk at least three times a week. She knows what I do, and she’s proud of me.
In return for her hard work as I was growing up, I paid for her house.
She enjoys living on the beach. I get numerous photos of sunsets, but I don’t complain.
My dad died when I was young, so she stepped up, pushed away her grief, and raised my sister and me.
Her mate was gone, and she was lonely, but she couldn’t think about dating anyone.
She compared everyone to Dad, and couldn’t stand to be touched by another man.
When I was sixteen, a man hit her. She had turned him down numerous times, and the last time, he snapped.
The moment I saw the black eye, busted lip, and broken arm, I was gone.
I tracked him down, hid my face, and broke both arms. That was what started my desire to protect women who can’t.
I would never say my mom was weak. She is strong and resilient.
Yet, everyone needs someone to step in sometimes.
I didn’t want her to worry about how to deal with him.
I realized there was a need for a man willing to do the dirty work.
I had the skills and the stomach for it.
My patience is hardly tested, and I enjoy the thrill of the chase.
I don’t know what that says about me, but I won't dwell on it.