by Juniper Hart
Nope. Nothing.
Her target, Storm, Keeper of the Wind, was going to get away if they weren’t careful. She had a small amount of time to shoot him and get out of Dodge before anyone figured out what had happened. Storm and his brothers were the bane of the assassin world. The bounty on his head would be enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life.
Dozens of assassins, both Slayers and amateurs, had come forth to accept the mission. So far, none of them had succeeded. Traditional Slayers completely failed; Storm used his powers of air manipulation to keep them well away from him until his security overwhelmed the assassin. The Slayers who used modern weaponry also failed.
Over thousands of years, people had tried to poison him, shoot him, and stab him, but the dragon refused to die. He was too powerful.
However, that was about to change. Storm wouldn’t escape her wrath.
Well, he wouldn’t escape her wrath if she ever got the text.
Storm was an interesting target for a variety of reasons. He had a reputation of being drop dead gorgeous. Lilith had caught some female Slayers talking about his good looks. It seemed he had everything: power, a body to die for, and wealth.
Lilith was willing to bet that some of the women Slayers wanted to sleep with him just as much as they wanted to kill him. She didn’t blame them. She’d seen a picture of him and was stunned that the rumors were true. He was worth all the hype with his dark hair, olive skin, and copper-colored eyes.
But his god-like features didn’t stop her from wanting to kill him. She needed that bounty. Besides, there was another reason she wanted him dead. It was personal.
To take down Storm, Lilith partnered with a man codenamed Night Star. She had no idea what his real name was, but she didn’t care. She had no clue what his face looked like, what color his eyes were, or even his skin tone. He was a total mystery to her, and also apparently completely incompetent despite being one of the best in the business. He’d totally failed to maintain communication. Why hadn’t he texted her yet?
She didn’t have to wait for him to tell her to get ready. She was a professional. She was going to get clothed and go wait on the freezing cold roof. Maybe Night Star was dead somewhere. She didn’t know or care. She had no allegiance to him. All she cared about was getting the bounty. If he died, all it meant to Lilith was that she didn’t have to split the reward.
She already had her gear out on the bed. She didn’t always walk around as a Slayer. A long time ago, she’d picked out a suit and trained in it. Ever since then, she wore a similar suit to that one. She felt comfortable in it. Strong. And, if she was honest with herself, just a touch sexy. Wearing it shielded her from some dangers, such as fire and claw marks. It wasn’t foolproof, but it did add an extra layer of protection.
The Aldane family code was victory over honor, honor over death. So, in other words, a Aldane Slayer was expected to win even at the cost of his or her honor. Should they fail, they were supposed to get back their honor and refuse to surrender. The part of the code she could never get behind was death part. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of dying, but she really enjoyed being alive.
Her suit was made with a cotton blend, and it was charmed. Without the spell, the outfit would probably be quite comfortable. However, the magic made the suit heavy, although she could still move quite easily in it. It was dark green—the same color as her eyes—and hugged every curve on her body. Extra padding was added to her knee and elbow area, which had come in handy on multiple occasions, such as that one time she had to quickly slide under a firetruck to avoid being crushed by a three-story building that imploded.
Lilith set down her phone and pulled the suit off the bed. She felt tendrils of power coming from it. They weren’t real; nothing from the suit was empowering her. It was all a mental trick. She could do whatever she wanted outside the suit, but once she pulled it on, she was another person, a cold, heartless person that couldn’t be intimidated or defeated.
She slipped one foot into the pants, then the other. It was a ritual. She felt her charmed tattoo on her back glow for a moment, recognizing the fabric and the fact that she was going to take a life. She slipped her arms into the suit and zipped it up. The sensation was incredible as if a light moved from the top of her head down to her toes.
Soon, her body was concealed, leaving only her hands, feet, and head exposed. Next, the gloves, which were sleek, black, and fitted. Finally, her feet. She must be swift. That’s where the shoe socks came in handy. Of course, each time she got a new pair of shoe socks, she asked a mage to place a spell on them so she’d be able to walk swiftly and safely over treacherous terrain or even over fire.
Her head.
She liked to do this one in the mirror. It just added that extra boost of confidence she craved. She brushed into the hotel bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror, hard. Her skin was flushed, her green eyes were glittering excitedly, and her strawberry blonde hair fell in natural, loose curls around her shoulders. Grabbing her hair, she pulled it back into a tight ponytail. She bared her teeth in a savage smile.
Very slowly, she brought the cowl over her ponytail, over her forehead. Goodbye, Lilith. Hello, famed killer, Red Shadow. Red not because of her hair but because of the blood she left behind. Shadow because she moved like a ghost, not seen, heard, or felt.
“Hello?” Someone knocked on the door. “Housekeeping. Anyone in there?”
Lilith scowled, pulling the cowl back over her ponytail. “Yes,” she snapped. “I’m in here. Come back later.”
Lilith looked back at the mirror. The atmosphere was gone. The cleaning man had shattered it.
She didn’t hear a response. That was understandable. What seemed odd was the fact that it was entirely too quiet. She had excellent hearing. She should’ve heard the wheels of the cleaning cart, or at least the guy muttering something.
Nothing.
Her ear twitched. She could pick out something. It was muffled, but she recognized it: the sound of a gun being loaded, quiet enough for her to just barely hear it. No time to mess around with theatrics. She dragged the cowl across her face and felt the power course through her body.
Red Shadow was alive and well. She dashed into the other room and scooped up her rifle onto her back with the strap just as the door busted down from the other side. Two men with automatic rifles in their hands barged into the room. The gig was up. Night Star was probably dead somewhere.
“Hey, boys,” Lilith said. She slowly reached for her enchanted whip on the nightstand by her bed. It was a nasty weapon. It bonded with its owner and moved almost like a part of the owner’s own body. Green spells crackled from it at her touch, but she let it hang and drag across the ground. “You from Storm?”
“Put your hands up, assassin!” one roared.
They had Storm’s copper-colored emblem on their shoulders. Somehow, they must have found out her and Night Star’s plan.
She backed up, holding her hands up as she backed out sliding door into the open air of the balcony. “You got me. I surrender. Don’t shoot.”
She felt the railing of the balcony hit her lower back.
“Stop moving!” roared one of the guards, leveling the barrel of his gun at her chest.
“Easy, now, fellas,” she said, hands still up with her whip in one hand and gun strapped across her back. She couldn’t afford for them to shoot her. She wasn’t bulletproof. She glanced back over the edge of the balcony of the ground five stories down. She bit her lip. “Listen, guys, it’s been really fun chatting, but I’ve gotta go.”
With that, she popped herself over the railing of the balcony. Gravity grabbed her and pulled her through the open air, but she had just barely enough time to shoot them the middle finger with her free hand.
2
Lilith started to plummet through the air. The wind whistled through her clothes. She felt…alive. Storm’s men ran to the window and looked out after her and seemed to question if they should shoot or not.
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Just as she passed the railing of a balcony room at the third floor, she lashed out with her whip. It wrapped itself around the railing, and she swung onto the balcony of the hotel room just below. Her momentum sent her crashing into the glass door that the occupants had kept closed. Her suit kept the glass from cutting her as she rolled to her feet in front of an extremely startled young couple.
“Hey!” Lilith said, giving them a smile before dashing for the hotel room door.
She had twenty seconds at most before someone showed up for her. She made it out the door and ran smack dab into a pizza delivery guy, who almost dropped the pizza he was holding out of surprise.
“Pizza’s here!” she yelled back into the room before dodging around the delivery man and dashing down the hall.
Eventually, her reputation and stupid antics would catch up to her. But for the time being, she was delighted to give the guards the chase they wanted. She had never been caught. She could see her target at the end of the wall: the elevator. Soon enough, she’d be there, and she could turn on her neck choker to disguise herself. Easy-peasy.
She got to the elevator, heart pounding. She jabbed her finger into the button to go up and waited patiently. She was sure Storm’s men would expect her to go to the bottom floor to get away, but she was always one step ahead. She would go up. Her cunningness and ingenuity are what kept her alive for so long. She patted her foot in a rhythm against the ground.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” she muttered. “Hurry up.”
The door dinged open. She sauntered inside and placed her finger on her neck choker after hooking her whip on her belt for easy access. She closed her eyes and focused. She was no magician, but the choker had the magic inside itself already. Her image fizzled and was replaced with another image. Every time she used one of her images, she had to come up with a new one so people couldn’t recognize her. This time she chose to be a tall man holding some very large flowers, not a small woman with a rifle and mean whip. If someone touched her, the game was over because it was only an illusion. But as far as everyone’s eyes were concerned, a man stood in the elevator.
The elevator rose gently with pleasing music in the background. She waited. The guards would find her eventually. The first thing they would do after realizing that she hadn’t smashed into the asphalt from diving off the balcony was come to find her.
Lilith hit the fourth floor. One more floor to go. She hoped the guards wouldn’t be waiting for her, but there was a good chance they would be. She had to make her disguise look convincing.
Fifth floor.
The doors slid open to reveal four guards, all toting heavy weaponry. They were smart. If she had killed the first two that had breached her room, there were two others hiding somewhere to call for backup. She was willing to bet that the hotel was littered with them. Storm didn’t take his security lightly.
“Oh god!” Lilith yelled, making herself jump backwards like she was some regular human who were scared of the rifles. “Holy fuck, what the hell!”
“Sir,” one said. “We need you to calm down!”
“Calm down?” She roared in a deep voice. She loved that the charmed choker even made her sound like the illusion that she was a man. “Get away from me!”
“We’re not going to hurt you!” one snapped. He turned to the others. “The little bitch jumped!”
Little bitch. Honestly that didn’t even make the list of the top hundred creative insults she’d received. She cowered in the elevator and listened as the men went down to the floor where she’d just come from.
“Storm will not be happy!”
“Calm down,” one ordered. “We got Night Star. At least that’s something.”
“We’re going to catch Red Shadow,” the fourth one promised. “I’m going to wring her throat myself.”
It was the last thing she heard before the elevator doors shut and she continued up to the top floor. She disengaged her choker so she could return to her normal appearance. It was a valuable tool, but it felt like her skin was being chafed by sandpaper when it was activated, so she was only able to withstand the pain for short amounts of time.
She took the elevator up to the top floor, then she jogged out to the roof access ladder and climbed up. It wasn’t locked. They often weren’t, surprisingly. If Lilith owned a building, she’d make extra sure that everything was locked up tight.
Red Shadow broke onto the roof, which was littered in snow. It was winter in Seattle, and the snowstorm had been unexpected.
“I need a less stressful job,” she said to herself as she stalked over to the edge of the building. “Why am I talking to myself?” She frowned. “Why am I answering myself?”
She got to the edge of the roof and glanced down. She was high, way too high up for her comfort. Even after all her training, she still had a fear of heights. Her heart sped up as she peered at the scene below. It was just like she thought; dozens of men below scoped out the exits of the hotel like she was going to walk out into their arms. That was an amateur’s mistake: to panic at the first sign of trouble.
Storm rarely attended planned social events. When an informant alerted her to his name on the guest list, she was thrilled. Unfortunately, Night Star also knew about Storm’s planned appearance. Rather than fight it out, the two decided to team up.
Her green eyes scoured the crowd for the dragon shifter.
“Where are you?” she muttered.
She caught sight of his powerful frame moving through a flock of bodyguards into a black SUV. He was hot. Really hot. With tousled pitch-black hair and a chiseled face, he looked like he had just stepped off the runway. Lilith couldn’t suppress the excitement she felt between her legs that moved quickly and powerfully through her core.
She had second thoughts about killing such a perfect-looking specimen, but it didn’t take long for her to remember he was also a dangerous dragon. And besides…money was money.
She brought her rifle up to her shoulder and leaned it up against the side of the building for support. It was an easy shot. Nobody saw her, somehow. Storm was well-protected, but not from the rooftops. She could still hit him. She might take out a bodyguard in the process, but hey, the bodyguard knew the risks when he took the job. Calmly, she chambered a bullet. The trick to being successful in the Slayer business was not getting rattled. Getting rattled meant getting anxious. Getting anxious meant you made stupid mistakes that got you caught or killed.
She lined the dot on his skull, breathing coolly and evenly. Storm had been shot before, but never by a gun like hers and not with a bullet like that one, and not in the head. Storm was outrageously powerful. She couldn’t doubt or deny that. Most dragons were powerful, but Storm was magnificent. His father was the Dragon King, and his mother was Mother Earth. The legends said that Mother Earth had given each of her sons the power over an element, and Storm controlled the wind. The dragon was literally capable of creating a tsunami with his mind.
Several guards raced up to Storm, and his posture became more rigid. Storm moved quickly to his SUV. The guards probably just told him they’d apprehended Night Star, but Red Shadow was still on the loose.
Before she could take the shot, he was gone.
“Fuck!” she hissed, lowering her barrel.
He was gone, but he could still be tracked. She’d waited too long.
Gone…but not untraceable. She had her methods. She took her clip out of her rifle and popped in another one. They weren’t bullets, but they were trackers. Small, effective trackers.
The SUV started to pull away. She quickly jerked her gun up, aimed, and fired. The little tracker was well-hidden, but it would be easy to miss and hit the window or somewhere too noticeable. The small black tracker zipped through the air and went, against all odds, into the exhaust pipe. Literally the best possible scenario. Nobody looked inside the exhaust pipe for a tracker.
It wouldn’t be easy, but she had no other choice than to track him. She wasn’t going to let a bount
y of that size get away. Besides, for her, it was personal. Storm had killed her friend and ally, Raven, when Storm and his army invaded a nearby Slayer building. She was going to kill that heartless creature if it was the last thing she did.
He was like all dragons: cold, heartless, and arrogant. They didn’t deserve to live, in her opinion. All they did was steal, loot, and murder. At least, that’s what she’d been told.
She slung her rifle over her shoulder, watching the SUV vanish into the distance. She’d find him. And when she did, she’d put a bullet in his skull. It was for the money, of course, but also for Raven.
She touched her choker, and her image was replaced with that of one of Storm’s men, complete with the insignia. She’d prepared for this contingency.
She was coming for Storm.
Lilith had no problem making it out of the hotel in her guard form. Nobody even questioned her.
After rushing into the parking garage, she found her steed: a solid steel sports car with a tinted glass windshield, four off-road tires, and the symbol of a phoenix on the bumper. It was painted green in the same tone as her suit. She couldn’t help it. She knew it was too obvious, yet she couldn’t resist the temptation to make a car version of her. And it was a car version of her. It was sleek, fast, and just plain sexy.
The keys were securely placed on the fender of the front driver’s side wheel, magnetized firmly to the frame. She unlocked her car and stepped inside. It was her own, personal cave, and it felt like home.
Everything in her car wasn’t completely functional though. She added a few personal touches that made her smile, such as the miniature disco ball that she kept around the mirror for fun.
She placed her phone into the GPS holder and fired up the app paired to the tracker. Within seconds, the tracking dot appeared on the map. Storm was moving away.
She followed.
3
Storm headed exactly where Lilith thought he would: his home high up in the mountains a couple hours outside of Seattle.