Chapter 6 Lark
LARK
The keys jingled in the lock as I opened the door with my hip. I juggled the takeout bag in one hand, and quickly kicked the door closed behind me.
I’d made it.
The young couple across the hall was always trying to talk to me. I wasn’t here to make friends. They’d cornered me the first day I’d rented the place and wanted to hang out. I shook my head. They were nice and normal. I wasn’t.
The apartment I’d rented was under one of my aliases and it was empty.
There wasn’t a lick of furniture. The place wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t going to win any style awards, either.
It was an older building full of one-bedroom apartments a few blocks away from the Strip.
The kind of place where no one would pay much attention to a quiet tenant.
Especially one who came in dressed differently each time.
One day I could be a woman, the next day a man, and the next an old lady.
Mastering disguises was one of the first things Ed had taught me when I was young.
Well, no one paid much attention except for the overly friendly Tawnee and Jeff across the hall.
I set the takeout bag on the scarred kitchen counter that was a bland, boring beige. I had a small inflatable mattress in the corner of the living room, sitting beside my duffel bag.
I opened the white, Chinese take-out container and the smell of noodles hit me. I grabbed the wooden chopsticks and a bottle of water, then crossed the empty living room. I settled down on the floor to eat my dinner.
Staying in a place like this meant there was less chance that Bastian could find me. It was harder to find a lone short-term lease on a private apartment, than a woman staying at a hotel. I slid down the wall, my knees up, and started eating.
I’d let him lure me to that bar today. Stupid.
I had to be more careful. I had to be in control. I knew how dangerous he was. The Reaper had earned his reputation. Ed had always spoken about Bastian with pride. He’d recruited Bastian as a wild teenager and trained him. Turned him into a legend.
Like me, Ed had been like a father to Bastian.
Yet, Bastian had still killed him.
My stomach curdled. I set the takeout container down and drank some water. I rested my head against the wall and closed my eyes.
I had to kill Bastian.
My stomach did a sickening lurch. Damn. A part of me…didn’t want to do it.
I thought of the way he’d held me.
I miss him, too.
He was the only father I ever knew.
My hands clenched into fists.
I uncovered a streak of pure darkness, Lark.
No. I wanted his voice to stop echoing in my head. I shot to my feet. I was no longer hungry. I started to pace, trying to find some calm.
It was bullshit. Bastian was just trying to justify what he’d done.
It changed nothing.
He had so many shades of gray.
“No.” I reached the window and stared out the old blinds. The apartment complex had a dowdy, internal courtyard. Someone had added a jaunty yellow sunshade umbrella over a faded wooden table, but it didn’t do much to make the space better.
I didn’t want to contemplate Ed’s shades of gray. I knew he’d snuck off sometimes. It was for secret CIA work. To protect his country. That’s why he never talked about it.
My hands flexed.
God, energy jangled inside me, wanting out.
Striding across the room, I dug around in my duffel bag and fished out my iPad. I slid back down the wall. Most nights, I sat right here. Hell, I slept in this position more than on the air mattress. Napping was another skill Ed had drummed into me as a kid.
The ability to sleep anywhere can save a good assassin’s life.
But right now, I couldn’t sleep.
I turned the iPad on and found my drawing app. I picked up the stylus and opened the web comic I was creating.
I started shading.
This was something that had come from my life before. I’d always loved to draw. I had vague recollections of my dad—a big, gruff outdoorsman—helping me. He’d taught me to draw and shade. He’d been a scientist, but had always loved art. He’d said he liked using both sides of his brain.
I worked though my current panel. I was doing a retelling of the Persephone and Hades story. My Persephone was beautiful, dangerous, and filled with attitude. She’d been dragged to the underworld and trapped there by the darkly handsome and deadly Hades.
My Hades was tall, muscled, handsome. He wore expensive suits and owned a casino called Underworld.
I felt my muscles slowly relax, my tension ease. I sketched out their latest clash. No matter what happened, Persephone always stood up to him.
And Hades loved it.
I sketched until my fingers cramped.
My brain was getting mushy and warning me that I needed some sleep. I had to stay sharp.
And tomorrow, I needed to plan.
I needed to end this game once and for all. What I needed was to find a place Bastian would be most vulnerable.
My stylus stopped moving.
It needed to be where he felt the safest.
Rising, I tucked the iPad away. I brushed my teeth, and slipped on a tank top with my panties. Then I dug out the rolled-up plans I’d paid a small fortune for.
The schematics for the Avernus.
They were hand sketched. Bastian had made sure there were no electronic copies to be found, anywhere.
After spreading the plans out on the floor, I ran my finger over them. Right to the layout of Bastian’s fancy, huge penthouse on the top floor.
I tapped.
Ed always told me that having friends or any personal connections was a weakness. I was well aware that I had some sort of connection with Bastian.
I could have killed him several times, but I hadn’t.
This time, I’d get it done.
I’d purge all this uncertainty and emotion inside me.
My cellphone pinged, and I glanced at it. A bank notification. I’d received the final payment for my last job. I’d taken down a Russian arms dealer.
Now, my next kill would be Bastian Thorne.
My stomach clenched. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall.
For Ed, I’d finally get vengeance.