Chapter Nine
Rylee
“It looks like a quaint cabin.” I stare at the charming home, and it makes my skin crawl. Knowing the asshole is planning on using an otherwise wonderful getaway home is horrible.
“Appearances,” Ezra whispers.
We passed the home as we arrived, and left the car down the road, hidden by trees.
Ezra doesn’t want him to become suspicious, and a vehicle parked on the side of the road certainly would be.
My mask covers my face. My mate growled low when I put it on, and I think he likes how it looks.
It’s black and hides my features well. The only part of my face that is showing is my right cheek, and half of my lips and chin.
There are silver crystals around the holes for my eyes.
“What’s in the bag?” I ask as we walk toward the back of the house.
“My supplies.”
“What are your orders for me?”
We stop on the back porch.
“The sun is going down.” He glances behind us. “He should show soon. He’s human, so he’ll be easy to kill. We wait and listen. Once he walks in, stay behind me.”
“Yes, sir.” I smile.
“Mmm…” He stares at me.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He turns around and drops the bag. Crouching, he unzips it. “Put these on.” He hands me a pair of leather gloves. As I slide my hands in them, he grabs a pair for himself. I look over his shoulder while he puts them on, curious to see what he brought.
“Will I be able to see through your disguised face?” I ask.
“You already are,” he mumbles, holding a little pouch.
“Really?” I tilt my head, concentrating on his features.
“I shapeshifted when we got here.” He looks at me. “Apparently, my mate is immune to it.”
“Good. I wasn’t looking forward to seeing another face on my mate,” I say, and he takes tools from the pouch and picks the lock. “So many talents.”
He chuckles, and the door opens. The only light inside is a dome light over the stove.
We step inside, and he shuts the door. The kitchen is simple and small.
I follow Ezra through it and into the living room.
It looks like any other, and I can’t imagine anyone committing horrible crimes in it.
I stare at the couch with a knitted blanket thrown over the back.
The front door is across from me, on the other side of the room.
“Fuck.” I look at Ezra. There is a hallway to the left, and he is staring into the room. I turn toward him and take a step. “No,” he growls, holding up his hand. “You said you would follow my orders. Do me a favor, and stay there.”
“What is it?” I stop.
“You don’t want the visual to go with what we know of him.” He shuts the door and closes his eyes.
“Ezra,” I whisper.
“He’s going to die.” He opens his eyes, and they glow yellow. “I want you to stand where you are and not move.”
“Okay.” I trust him, and if the room caused his calm to shake, I don’t want to see.
Instead of thinking about it, I watch him move around the room.
He looks out the front window and then replaces the curtains.
The bag is opened again, and he removes a large black tarp.
Holding it in his hands, he paces toward the door, and I wonder if he’s counting steps.
He walks back and faces the door, flicking the plastic.
It rolls in the air and gently coasts to the floor.
He bends over and adjusts it. The oval shape reminds me of a body bag.
The room darkens as the sun sets, and I call on my fox. Her vision can penetrate the fading light. My body hums, and my animal is sensing danger.
“He’s coming,” Ezra says softly.
“What’s his name?” I ask.
“Richard.” He steps back. “Stand in the kitchen,” he demands. I move quickly, leaning against the counter. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“It will happen quickly.”
“Do what you need to.” He nods and slides the knife from his thigh strap. He holds it easily.
The car stops in front of the house. I hold my breath.
His feet step on the gravel. A door opens, and then I hear the crinkle of plastic sacks.
He’s bringing the things he bought, and I swallow hard.
I follow his motions as he secures the car and walks toward the stairs in front.
I count them, one…two…three…four. Keys rattle, he drops them, and hums. I can smell his scent.
It smells like baby powder and cologne. It makes me nauseous, so I dim my sense of smell.
He finds the right key, and it slides into the lock. My heart races, and I hope it’s not distracting my mate. He seems steady; his focus is on the door.
More rattling as he juggles the plastic. The door creaks open as if in slow motion, but I know it must just be me. Richard is looking down as he steps over the threshold, intent on the things in his hands.
Ezra’s knife flies through the air. It happens in a split second.
“What the—” Richard stares at the knife protruding from his thigh for a moment.
Shock in the sound of his voice, and confusion filling his expression.
In the next moment, the bags are on the floor, and he falls forward, landing on the tarp.
“Who?” he groans, his shaking hand moving to the handle.
Kneeling on his good leg, he stares at my mate.
“I usually don’t speak much to my targets,” Ezra says calmly, crouching next to him. “I could have killed you.”
“Why?”
“Why didn’t I? Well, Richard, you motivated me.” He grabs a handful of Richard’s hair and yanks his head back. “Everyone I kill deserves it. They either abuse women or young girls. Most are assholes in a woman’s life who need to be punished. You are the worst of the worst.”
“Who are you?” Tears hover in his eyes, and blood drips. The sound is ominous.
“A man who is going to stop your world, and the horrible things you do.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I do, Richard. I know what you were going to do in there.” Richard’s eyes roll in the direction of the room.
“I know what you’ve done in the past. I want to make it hurt.
” Ezra grabs the knife and digs it in before slowly removing it.
Screams fill the space. “I want you to feel some of their helplessness,” he whispers, and thrusts the blade into his other thigh.
“I think it’s only right.” Again, he removes it, and he punctures his side, and then the other.
Richard is beyond screams. He whimpers and falls to his side, and Ezra eases back.
His eyes are wide, staring into my mate’s with horror.
I step forward, and Ezra arranges him, straightening his legs.
He lifts the edges of the tarp, making sure the blood is contained.
He balances above him, his feet on either side of his body.
“Let me,” I say softly, and he looks at me sharply.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I don’t have to know all the details. I imagine the helplessness of the children and their parents.
“Come here,” he demands gruffly. I walk forward and stop on his left.
“Stand as I am. In front of me.” I do as he says and I stare at Richard.
His mouth is opening and closing, but no sound emerges.
“Hold the knife.” He lifts it in front of me, and I replace his hand with mine.
I crouch and hold it against Richard’s neck.
The blade is sharp and cuts through the skin easily. We can’t stop the memories of his destruction, but I hope in some way, they get peace from his death. I wait until his heart slows to dangerous levels, and then stops before standing.
“What now?” I ask, handing him the weapon.
“Now, I send proof. Step away.” He wipes the knife on Richard's shirt before sliding it in its sheath. “Hand me your gloves.” I glance at my hands, noticing the blood on the right one, and roll the left one over the other. He takes them and tosses them on the body. “Don’t touch anything.” I nod and put my hands in my pockets.
I wait patiently as Ezra erases any sign of our presence.
He pulls another pair of gloves out of the bag.
It seems like magic, its depths are endless.
Richard is contained and enclosed in plastic.
Humans have no clue the monster my mate eliminated.
The people he is protecting would be the same who would hunt him if they knew he was a shifter.
We would be threatened and studied. I admire him.
He doesn’t ask for credit or glory. He does the job and gives the proof of the monster's death to those who need it. There was a part of me that needed to be involved. It wasn’t hard to kill an abuser.
Oddly, this experience has helped me trust him and get to know him.
He takes a picture of Richard, then gathers his supplies and places them by the back door.
“How did you know he would come in the front door?” I ask as he moves to the body bag.
“He didn’t think he needed to hide.” He lifts Richard over his shoulder.
“Plus, his scent wasn’t anywhere behind the house, and there weren’t any signs across the grass.
Let’s go, Foxy.” He nods, and I hustle through the kitchen.
I lift my hand to open the door, but drop it, remembering what he said.
“I got it.” He opens the door, motions me through, while holding a body, grabbing the bag, and somehow locking the house.
“Have you worked with anyone before?” I walk beside him as we trek back to the vehicle.
“No.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t needed to.” He glances at me. “Having someone else with me can cause issues I don’t want to deal with. Trusting someone with your life is a big deal. If they talk to the wrong person about a job or they can’t follow through at the moment, my life is at risk.”
“Yet, you brought me.” I lick my lips. “And you let me help.”
“I would never allow anyone to hurt you. I trust you.” He adjusts the body. “You are my mate, and the only one I will let come with me.”
“Oh…” My heart falls a little in love.
“I’m proud of you.”
“You are,” I whisper, absurdly touched.
“You didn’t panic, followed my lead, and helped me rid the world of an evil man. You did well, baby.” He smiles, and my cheeks warm.