Contents
Hired Gun 2
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Also by A.J. Bennett
About the Author
HIRED GUN
Part 2
BY
A.J. BENNETT
Hired Gun 2
Copyright 2014 A.J. Bennett Published by A.J. Bennett
All rights reserved.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without prior written permission of the author.
This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events; to real people, living or dead; or to real locales are intended only to give the fiction a sense of reality and authenticity. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and their resemblance, if any, to real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art by Eden Crane Design
Editing by thereforyouediting.com
Mark My Words Publicity thanks for all you do!
My agent Rachel Marks for believing in me.
1
Pissed off, Thorne stalked into the living room. Morning sunlight filled the room, almost taunting his anger as he grabbed his cell phone off the charger. The damn cat wrapped itself around his leg. Nudging it away, Thorne punched in a number and waited for Ragner to answer. Finally, on the fifth ring, he picked up. Ragner’s voice was groggy and ticked off; nothing new there. “What the hell do you want, Thorne?”
“I need you to do a background check for me. Full body cavity search. I want to know every minute detail. Don’t leave any stone unturned—any nook or cranny I want to know everything. I don’t care how inconsequential it may seem to you. You hearing me?”
With a sigh, Ragner asked, “Name?”
Thorne could hear shuffling and the sound of Ragner’s computer coming to life.
“Kataya Clarke.”
“Should I be concerned?” Ragner asked wearily.
Thorne moved into the kitchen and turned on the coffee pot. If he didn’t get some caffeine in him he was going to kill someone. “I’m not sure. Just find out what you can and we’ll go from there. Like I said, I want a full report. ASAP.”
“Sometimes, I think you forget you work for me,” Ragner said, clearly annoyed.
Reaching up, Thorne grabbed a mug from the cabinet. “Yeah, well when you’re a fucking killing machine like I am, you get perks.” He clicked off the phone without waiting for a reply. Shit, he was still so keyed up from seeing Laurie. He wanted to throttle someone or something. Gods, she’d been so real in his arms. He could have sworn she even smelled the same … citrus with a touch of sandalwood. Maybe that was one of the tricks of the chameleon. He should have snapped her neck when he had a chance. Bitch.
Looking at the clock, he realized it wasn’t even seven a.m. He poured himself a cup of black coffee and sat down at the kitchen table. Frowning into his cup, he went over and over every detail from last night in his mind’s eye. What in the Hades was that woman up to? She’d looked confused when he confronted her, but that was probably because she was still half asleep. Could she have changed forms without knowing it? No, that made no sense. Chameleons were always in control of their shifting. That bitch deserved an Academy Award for her acting abilities. Well, no one fucks with him. She was going to pay. Sure the sex was off the charts, but willing women were a dime a dozen. There’s plenty more where she came from.
He should have asked Ragner if he had any hits open. What he really needed to do was blow off some steam. After he downed the coffee, Thorne made his way through the apartment and into his private gym. Throwing around some steel might get his mind right.
Jumping on the treadmill, he did a few all-out sprints, trying to get his heart rate elevated. Not the easiest thing to do with his lineage. When he finally felt like he was getting worn down, he jumped off the machine, dropped to the ground, and knocked out a hundred pushups to get the blood flowing.
From there he went over to the weight bench, loading it up with all of the plates, and knocked out a dozen reps of bench press. He moved from machine to machine.
Unfortunately, no matter what he did, he couldn’t remove the image of his dead wife’s face, or the sound of her moans as he drove his cock deep inside of her. His throat tightened. Shit, even her pussy felt the same. A part of him wished he’d had more time with her before the illusion was broken. Mostly he was pissed off that Kataya thought she could manipulate him like that. When he heard that strange voice coming out of his wife’s mouth … It was cruel.
Who the hell hired her, and what the hell did they want with him? Could it really be the gods punishing him … reminding him that they were still in control of his life? Well, there was only one way to find out. He was going to do something he hadn’t bothered to do the whole time he’d been exiled to Earth.
Thorne hopped to his feet and grabbed a towel off the rack. After wiping his face and chest, he tossed it into the hamper.
Closing his eyes, he willed his mind to take him to his father’s chambers. His stomach rolled as his ethereal body made its way through time and space, carrying him to another dimension. The air shimmered around him before clearing. Over two thousand years had passed since he’d been home, and from the looks of it, nothing had changed.
“Father,” Thorne said, after clearing his throat.
Theseus glanced up from his writing and set his quill down, his face turning a bright shade of red that was not very becoming. “Thorne, how dare you show your face here?”
“I’ve missed you too, Father,” Thorne said while glancing around the familiar room, which seemed even more outrageous than he had remembered. The twenty foot walls were made of gold and encrusted with shimmering jewels. Magick flowers danced in their vases. The furniture was so elaborate that it was garish. A chandelier of diamonds cast off sparkling lights throughout the room.
Thorne preferred a cleaner, more simplistic look himself, but the gods were not known for being subtle. At times it boggled his mind that if he hadn’t defied the gods to be near his mother, he would still be living amongst the immortals.
A part of him missed his old life. Of course, he would never admit it to his father or anyone else.
When he was just a boy he’d spent hours in his father’s study, watching him work. On a rare occasion, his father would actually acknowledge him. Sometimes he even allowed Thorne to sit on his lap while he explained the responsibilities of being a god.
“You are risking your life. I could call the counsel and have you destroyed for good. And what the Hades are you wearing?”
Thorne glanced down at his bare chest and his workout shorts, which hung low on his waist, and shrugged. “Man dresses never really caught on down on Earth.” He strolled over to the desk and sat down on one of the enormous chairs. “I’m sure you could call the counsel, but you won’t.”
His father’s narrow gaze rested on his face. Thorne might have the eyes of his dead mother, but everything else was the spitting image of his father. The man still looked the same as the last time he’d seen him so many years ago. The two of them appeared more like brothers than one of the god’s many offspring. “I see you’ve gotten cocky while being on Earth.”
A lazy smile crossed his face, and Thorne draped his arm across the back of the chair, relaxing. “I like to think
of it as earned confidence.”
“Why are you here?”
“I was hoping you would tell me.”
“Stop speaking in riddles or get the hell out of here.”
“Are you saying the gods have not decided to provoke me?”
Theseus leaned back in his chair. “Whatever are you talking about? No one has so much as uttered your name since the day you were cast away. I hate to inform you, son, but you are not that important.”
Scratching the side of his face, Thorne studied his father. He seemed to be telling the truth. The words stung a little, but Thorne was always seen as a lesser being because of his human mother. This was not something new. All his life he was treated like a second class citizen amongst his siblings.
If the gods hadn’t sent Kataya, then who did? What in the hell was going on?
“Sorry to bother you, Father.” Thorne stood up to leave.
“Sit. Tell me about your time on Earth. Every time I think the humans are close to getting it right, they do something to screw things up again. What have you learned while being amongst the humans? You seem to have done quite well for yourself. The Sicarii. I was impressed.”
Without thinking, Thorne dropped back in his seat. It’s funny what a lifetime of conditioning could do to a person. Even after all these years, he still obeyed his father, a trait that had been instilled in him at the hand of a whip. How many beatings had he taken over the years from his father? Or, worse yet, from his father’s servants? He clenched his fist at the memories. His childhood had not been one he recalled fondly, but like most things in life, it could have been worse. Whining and complaining about it would not turn back the hands of time.
So his father had checked up on him? This both surprised and warmed his icy heart slightly. Maybe his father cared more than he showed. Or maybe he wanted to make sure his son wasn’t screwing things up. Like usual.
“What do you know about The Sicarii?” Thorne asked.
“Let’s just say they have a direct line to us.”
“Interesting, but not surprising.” For the first time, Thorne wondered if it wasn’t a coincidence that had brought him to the secret society, like he’d believed. He wasn’t one to second guess so, he’d just let that thought go. He was happy with his place in The Sicarii. If his father had anything to do with getting him the job, he didn’t want to know about it.
“The humans have come a long way over the generations.”
His father threw back his head and laughed. “That’s the biggest crock of shit and you know it. Look at what they are doing to the planet. They declare war over oil when they have access to brilliant minds with ideas for alternative energy. And don’t even get me started on their lack of initiative. The government shoots down anything that would save them. They are so afraid of change it paralyzes them.” He paused for a moment. “They will be the cause of their own extinction, and there won’t be a damn thing we can do to stop it.”
“Maybe so,” Thorne said, rubbing his hand across his face. “Why don’t the gods step in and offer assistance?”
His father scoffed. “You know that is forbidden.”
“And yet you have your hands elbow deep in The Sicarii?”
With a shrug his father said, “We do what we can. There are a few loopholes we are allowed to get around, The Sicarii being one of them. Even The Sicarii won’t be enough to save them. The Oracle says it’s inevitable.”
“And where will that leave me?” Thorne studied his father’s face. As a boy, he had gone to bed every night praying that his father would love him, see him fit to be his heir. Gods, talk about wishful thinking. Even today a part of him longed for his approval. Pathetic.
“That is not up for me to decide.” His father drummed his long fingers on the desk.
“How much longer do the mortals have?”
Theseus shook his head and spread his hands out before him. “Who knows? Probably a couple of thousands of years. A blink of an eye really.”
Thorne fought back the urge to laugh. His father didn’t grasp how different time was on Earth, and he wasn’t about to try to explain himself.
“I’m sorry I wasted your time father.”
His father nodded his head. “Tell me more about your problem. Why did you think we sent someone after you?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Son, I asked you a question. Unless you want to find yourself in the Hall of Punishment, I suggest you answer.”
A shiver ran though him at the mere mention of the hall. “A woman came to me and showed herself as my dead wife. I thought it was the gods yanking my chain.”
“And you came here for vengeance?”
“Yes,” Thorne said simply.
“It wasn’t us. Explain to me why you think this was sinister in nature?”
“Just my intuition.”
A faint smile crossed his father’s face, instantly changing the hardened planes in to something pleasant. “Ah, you get your intuition from your mother. I suggest you listen to it well. It will not fail you.”
This was the first time his father had talked about his mother to him. He wanted to ask more questions, but it didn’t seem worthwhile. His mother was dead. She’d probably reincarnated several times by now, but she wouldn’t remember him. Such was the way of the mortals. A clean slate. If only they used it for good. Instead, the fools made the same errors over and over again.
Thorne stood up again to leave, and this time his father did not stop him.
“I will have to tell the others about your visit.”
“I expected no less,” Thorne said and disappeared, ending up back in his apartment.
2
As soon as Thorne returned to his apartment, the doorbell rang.
Jesus, he’d forgotten how much it sucked to cross dimensions. Since his ears were still ringing and his head hurt, the last thing he wanted was company. “Give me a freaking minute,” he snarled.
Gradually the room stopped wavering, and he crossed from his bedroom into the hallway. He was tired, cranky, and hungry. Annoyed, Thorne clicked on the security camera. Benny stood outside of the door holding a manila folder in one of his hands, and a brown bag in the other. If it were anyone else, he would have thrown their asses out. Benny’s blond hair was tucked under a worn Yankees ball cap. No matter how hard Benny tried to hide it—in his ripped up jeans and faded T-shirt—there was no denying the fact that the man had the face of a god. Thorne found it humorous that Benny tried to downplay himself. Thorne? Well he embraced his rugged good looks and used them to his advantage.
With his mind, Thorne swung the door open and gestured for Benny to enter. “What’s up?”
Benny strolled through the door, holding the envelope by his fingertips. “I’m just a humble servant today. Ragner said you needed this lickety split.”
Thorne grabbed the file. The first thing he noticed was how thin it was, which was never a good sign. Thorne stalked into the living room and dropped on to the leather couch. Benny followed behind him and sat down across from him, kicking his leather boots up on the coffee table. The cat jumped on to the couch and curled up next to Thorne. Weren’t they just the cozy picture?
“You name the cat yet?” Benny asked.
Thorne just glared at him before flicking the folder open.
Kataya Clarke. Celtic origin. Descended from a line of witches. Ah fuck, just what he needed, a damn witchy woman. Just his luck, her true form had never been captured on film. No one knew exactly what she looked like … at least no one that would talk. He was getting angrier and angrier as he read the file, which told him absolutely nothing at all. She was a ghost, that’s what she was. A goddamn illusion.
Apparently no one even knew what she did for a living. Wasn’t that some shit? If he wasn’t so pissed off he’d be impressed.
There were several images of women of all shapes, colors, and sizes, but there was not a single clue that would tell you they were actually Katya. If they were even her
at all. Just fucking great. Suddenly, it hit him. His head snapped up and his eyes locked on Benny’s. “You can’t track her, can you?”
He dropped his head. “Nope, Ragner asked me to try, but she’s spelled. It’s like a black hole. You know it’s there, but you just can’t find it. Believe me, I tried. Who the hell is this chick?” asked Benny.
“Beats the hell out of me. I brought her home last night and fucked the hell out of her.”
Benny laughed in disbelief. “Okay, what the Hades am I missing in this picture? This isn’t like you, man. You’re tracking down some bimbo you brought home from a bar? What, you forgot to ask her for her number? Please tell me there is more to the story.”
Thorne was starting to feel like an ass. Maybe he had blown it way out of proportion. “I don’t know. I’m starting to think I’ve overreacted.” He paused. “But with her being this invisible, maybe I’m not. Long story short, this morning when I woke up she was in the form of Laurie. It totally tripped me out.”
Benny tossed off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t know what surprises me more, that you let a woman stay the night or the fact that you saw your dead wife.”
“You don’t get it.” Thorne ground his teeth and stared in the direction of his bedroom. “I held her in my arms. It was so real. Ah fuck, never mind man. You wouldn’t understand.”
“I can see how something like that could mess with your head. What was her explanation?”
“I didn’t give her time to give me one. I threw her ass out … before I killed her.”
“Noble of you.” Benny gave him a crooked grin.
“Yeah, yeah. I have my moments.” Shit. So basically he knew nothing more than he’d known this morning.
No, that wasn’t true. He knew the gods had not sent her. That knowledge alone went a long way.
So this was something completely different. Something to do with his time on Earth. He should have listened to his intuition. Several times he’d thought it was a bad idea, but he wanted to feel her mouth on his cock too badly to listen. If it wasn’t for the gut feeling of something being wrong, he would drop it. But like his father had said, never dismiss your higher self. That’s basically what intuition was. The part of you that knew better than you did. Even humans had the ability, but seldom took heed to the little signs.
Hired Gun #2 Page 1