They’d lived here for nine months until that fateful night when Aidan’s work had caught up with him. Not only was he a bounty hunter too but he was ex-army and worked as a bodyguard and mercenary, all around the world. He’d pissed off some pretty heavy duty Eastern European war criminals, who had finally caught up with him while they were enjoying a night out together in Leeds. Together they’d fended off the three assailants but she’d got shot in the process. It was fortunate they were in the city because it meant Aidan got her to hospital quickly enough to save her life. She’d taken two bullets to the back and he’d sat at her bedside, distraught.
Once she was fully recovered he’d left her to track down the men who had shot her, intent on killing them. He’d returned home four months later after tracking them through Europe, looking exhausted and haunted. He’d stayed with her for six months, recovering. Once he was back on his feet they did some travelling around the UK, just enjoying reconnecting again after the separation. Then they’d got involved in another fight, not with war criminals or mercenaries but just some local thugs while they were staying in Wales. Although neither of them had been badly injured it had almost led to them getting arrested and Aidan once again blamed himself because he’d let those idiots rile him into a fight, so he’d taken off. After that it became a regular thing - he’d stay away for months, come home, they’d have a wonderful time together then something would go horribly wrong, leading to one of them getting injured or arrested and he’d vanish again. For a number of years Raven had been content because at least he was still her husband, which was all that had mattered to her. As she’d got older she’d realised it was no way to live and she was so tired of it. But what was the alternative for a woman like her? She couldn’t settle down with an ordinary, law-abiding man because he’d be appalled by what she did for a living and she was not the type of woman to settle down to a mundane nine to five job, she’d lose her mind. Aidan was in the same profession, although he worked on a global scale while she was happy sticking to the local area. He appreciated her stock of guns, incendiaries, knives and all the other gadgets she had secreted under the house. At least this way, she could remain an independent woman, answerable to no one while still being with the man she loved. But somehow this was no longer enough. She wanted more.
Raven climbed beneath the duvet, feeling lost in the huge king-sized bed. Tonight more than ever she needed her husband beside her but that wasn’t going to happen. At least she could go to sleep knowing he was alive. That was a damn sight more than she’d had last night.
CHAPTER 4
Raven woke especially early the next morning. Usually she got up at six o’clock but today she woke an hour earlier, when the sun was just starting to come up. She made herself a cup of green tea and wandered into the lounge with the huge panoramic window that looked out over the moor to watch the sunrise, the shadows beaten back by the fiery glow, the heather blazing purple, the lone pine tree marking the boundary of her land silhouetted against the light. She loved living here, the isolation suited her and she adored being out in nature. Taking a walk across the moor she would encounter no one, except perhaps the odd rambler. It was tempting to don her walking boots and just lose herself in nature for the day, forgetting all her woes about rivals stealing her contracts and her errant husband. But that would get her nowhere. The longer she left it the worse it would get. She had a reputation to protect.
Instead she dragged herself out of her cosy armchair, away from that amazing view and into the shower. She dressed in her usual comfortable black jumper, jeans and black boots. After shrugging on her coat she got into her Nissan X-Trail and drove down the small track linking her home to the main road, heading towards Leeds.
As she drove she pondered what to do. The leak to her rival wasn’t coming from her, on that she was absolutely certain. It just wasn’t possible. That meant it had to be coming from Patrick and the gang boss who’d employed her. But why would they send two assassins after the mark and risk causing carnage and drawing unwanted attention to themselves? That didn’t make sense either. It didn’t fit in with Patrick’s desperate desire for everything to be neat and tidy. The gang boss, who was actually a bit thick, had just looked confused when she’d confronted him about it. There must be a third way her rival was getting his information, something she hadn’t yet considered.
She headed to Roundhay, a suburb of the city, to see her saviour and father figure, One Eye.
Raven banged on the door of a smart townhouse in the centre of an immaculate row, hanging baskets at the door and flower boxes at the windows. Due to the delicate nature of his work, One Eye always kept the front door locked and bolted from the inside, so she had to knock, even though she had a key.
If she hadn’t known the occupant she would have imagined some well-to-do elderly lady lived here complete with poodles and pearls. However the door was opened by a man in his early fifties, shoulder length grey hair tied back neatly at the nape of his neck. He wore a smart grey tailored suit, complete with waistcoat. He was a tall, strong-looking man, handsome and dignified. However the most striking thing about him was that his left eye was covered with a patch, having lost it when he was a young man.
“Raven,” he replied in a smooth, deep voice. “How very nice to see you.”
“Sorry for dropping in unexpectedly. I’ve come to see you about something urgent.” One Eye was the only father she’d ever known and he had even saved her life. She owed him everything and she would be eternally grateful.
He nodded in understanding, not requiring her to explain. Everyone in their world had heard about her rival stealing contracts from under her. He stood aside to allow her to enter. “No need to apologise, this will always be your home. Come on in.”
“Thanks,” she said, stepping inside the hallway just as loud heavy metal music started up from deeper in the house.
“Damon,” yelled One Eye. “Shut that racket up.”
The music continued to blare on.
“That boy,” he sighed. “One day I’m going to beat him to death with his own speakers.”
Raven smiled as she followed One Eye deeper into the house, which was just as immaculate as the outside. It was hard to believe two men lived here with no women but One Eye insisted everything be kept clean and tidy.
They entered the kitchen at the back of the house. The ‘boy’ One Eye had referred to was in fact a huge hulking man standing at the counter hacking away at a slab of meat, his muscular torso bare except for a butcher’s apron. In fact the only item of clothing he wore were a pair of faded blue denim jeans, splattered with blood. He hadn’t heard them enter because the thunderous heavy metal music was so loud. He attempted to sing along with it - badly - while continuing to bring the meat cleaver down on the haunch on the butcher’s block.
“Hey,” he said, looking round when his adored music was switched off at the stereo. “I was enjoying that Dad.”
“We have a guest,” said One Eye, indicating Raven with a sweep of the hand.
Damon’s eyes widened and he put down the cleaver, wiping his hands on the apron. “Raven, it’s great to see you. Really great,” he said, his eyes running up and down her appreciatively.
“And you Damon,” she said, trying not to look at all those bulging biceps and that handsome face with the emerald green eyes, surmounted by thick red hair. Her husband had been away a year and her body was crying out for some male company. “Is this lunch or the remains of someone who annoyed you?” she said, nodding at the meat on the counter. One Eye and Damon ran a discreet service, removing inconvenient corpses and making them disappear, not that they’d ever be stupid enough to dispose of one in their own kitchen, that was just her little joke.
Damon nodded. “I’m trying out my new-found culinary skills. Braised beef. I’ve been taking lessons. Dad loves my cooking, don’t you?”
Raven smiled at One Eye’s grimace.
“I wondered if you had any new gadgets I could use against this ri
val of mine who’s stealing my contracts?” she said.
Damon’s smile fell. “Yeah, we heard about that. He’s a dick.”
“He did it again last night but this time I actually got up close and personal with him. We fought but he got away. He drives a black Mondeo, a ten plate. He’s a local boy too. I wondered if either of you might know who he is?”
One Eye and Damon glanced at each other. “Yes, we’ve heard about the trouble you’ve had,” began One Eye. “But I’m sorry, we’ve no idea who’s responsible. We can’t imagine anyone being stupid enough to challenge you like this.”
She sighed. One Eye and Damon knew everyone involved in the Leeds’ criminal underworld. If anyone would know the identity of her rival, it was them. “Maybe he’s not from around here?”
“Perhaps,” said One Eye. “But even further afield there’s no one we know with the skills to rival your own. I should know, I trained you myself. How did he operate?”
“He took out the lights before I could hit the mark. He moved fast, he’s smart and he can fight and shoot.”
“Ex-army possibly?” he offered. “Someone who was recently discharged that we don’t know about?”
“Maybe,” she replied. “That would explain why he seems to have come from nowhere.”
Damon picked up the cleaver and slammed it into the butcher block, where it firmly embedded itself in the wood. “Raven needs our help and I say we give it.”
“Alright, calm down,” said his father. “The last thing this situation needs is your volatility adding into the mix.”
He folded his big arms across his chest, making the muscles pop out, Raven still doing her best not to look. “I am not volatile.”
“Really?” said One Eye, nodding at the cleaver.
“I was making a statement.”
“Come downstairs Raven,” said One Eye. “I’ve some new items to show you that might assist you in your fight against this rival of yours.”
“Thank you,” she said as he threw aside the rug in the middle of the kitchen floor, revealing a panel cut into it. He pulled up the panel to reveal a set of stairs. One Eye descended first.
Raven was about to follow when Damon said, “your husband come home yet?”
“No, not yet.”
“You know where I am if you ever feel lonely at night,” he said with a wink.
Raven let her eyes wander over that impressive torso of his, the heat rising in her cheeks. “I’ll bear that in mind,” she croaked before hastily following his father downstairs.
Underneath this smart suburban home lay a huge workshop, running the length of the house. One Eye was a mechanical genius and he supplied her with the little gadgets she found so helpful during the course of her work, including the bracelets Nino the Ear Muncher had become intimately familiar with. The room was strewn with the innards of everyday household objects that One Eye had stripped down to reuse in ingenious ways.
“I’ve made more tracking devices,” he said, picking up a tiny cylindrical metal object between his thumb and forefinger. His hand shook as he held it out to her. One Eye was afflicted with essential tremor, a nerve condition causing uncontrollable shaking. Fortunately it hadn’t stopped him from creating his inventions, yet. “Slip that in his pocket and track the bastard back to his hole.”
“Thanks,” she said, accepting it off him and slipping it into her coat pocket. “But I have to get close enough to do that. My main concern is how he knows about my contracts.”
“Have you swept your place for bugs?”
She nodded. “I do it every day now. My car and clothes too. They’re all clean every time.”
“If it’s not coming from you then it must be the people you’re getting the contracts from.”
“Must be but I don’t think they’d ever admit it.”
“Maybe you should ask them again more forcefully?”
“I’ve pissed them off enough. I don’t want to permanently lose my work. The legit police work doesn’t bring in as much cash.”
“It won’t do them any harm to remember who they’re dealing with. Patrick Bryce especially could do with being brought down a peg or two.”
It occurred to Raven that One Eye or Damon could be the ones leaking information about her contracts to her rival. Although she didn’t tell them about each individual contract they did know who employed her. But One Eye had been the one to help get her out of the gutter. Why would he spend years training her and building her up just to smash her down again? It didn’t make sense. Besides, the thought was too awful. Apart from Aidan they were the only family she had.
“I quite agree,” she said. “Patrick seems to think I’m some sort of serf at his beck and call. But if I find out how my rival is getting his information I’ll find him. He’s not just following me about because he knew who my mark was last night before I’d got anywhere near him.”
“Then Bryce must have told him.”
“That makes sense, although I can’t see why he’d do that. The gloves are coming off. I think it’s time I asked him.” But before that, she had another visit to make.
“Here’s something new,” said One Eye, handing her a small round object. “A flash device. It works just like the sonic devices I already gave you. Just throw it to the ground and it’ll blind everyone around you long enough to allow you to escape.”
“So the effects aren’t permanent?”
“No but I’m working on that. Just make sure you close your eyes or put on sunglasses before using it.”
“I’m sure I’ll find a use for it.”
“You’re going to need all the help you can get. Assassins create enemies Raven and your tally sheet is long.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“I worry about you. I know you like to work alone but we can help.”
When her eyes flicked to his trembling left hand, he folded his arms together.
“I have to handle it alone,” she said. “If I don’t I’ll only look weaker.”
“If this gets out of control, you come to us. Promise me Raven.”
She just nodded. “Thanks for this,” she said, indicating the device he’d given her before heading for the stairs, One Eye watching her go, his single blue eye bright with worry.
CHAPTER 5
The gang boss who had hired Raven to do the hit that her rival had stolen was called Marcus Moore. He was quite the big shot in Leeds, although in the wider scheme of things he was a minnow among sharks.
He didn’t look like a gang boss, in fact he permanently looked like he’d just rolled out of bed and thrown on his clothes in the dark, his grey jogging bottoms mismatching with his black leather jacket, his white plimsolls stained and tatty. He was short and stocky with spiky dark hair and a permanent frown.
As Raven wanted to talk to him in private, she couldn’t confront him at his home as he lived with his banshee of a fiancée. No wonder he always looked pissed off. When he wasn’t at home he was at the pub he operated his business from or the small, seedy casino he owned. At both places he was permanently surrounded by people, so she knew her only chance of catching him alone was when he was in his car.
When he visited the pub he left it parked around the back, out of sight of the main road. He didn’t like to leave it out front, announcing to everyone that he was there. However this gave Raven the perfect opportunity to break into it and await him there, tucked down in the rear footwell.
She remained hunched there for almost two hours before she heard the back door of the pub bang shut. It was fortunate she had an abundance of patience. There was a pop as the doors of the dark blue Lexus were unlocked and the driver’s door was yanked open. Marcus flung himself inside, rocking the car. Raven didn’t move or make a sound, she remained where she was, awaiting her moment.
She waited until she could see nothing but trees out of the windows above her, telling her they were on the stretch of road between the city and the suburb he lived in. She drew the knife from her coat pocke
t - she was leaving One Eye’s devices for a more dangerous target than this joker - and pressed it to his throat.
“What the fuck?” he cried, so surprised he twisted the wheel to the left. Fortunately he had the presence of mind to right it again.
“Pull over,” she said.
“Raven?”
“I said pull over,” she snapped.
“Alright, I’m pulling over. Just take it easy, eh sweetheart?”
“Sweetheart doesn’t suit me,” she said, pressing the knife harder to his throat.
Marcus didn’t dare swallow or even breathe as he steered the car onto the grass verge and pulled on the handbrake.
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