intentions Azriel had when he brought me here: a fresh start.
“So, I take it the objective tonight is to wipe out Vasili’s competition, am I right?”
“Ah, Darian,” Azriel sighed. “So clever. Nothing gets past you.”
Though his tone carried an edge of mockery, I knew that Azriel admired my mind. He asked my opinion on matters frequently, and took my counsel to heart. He simply always sounded jaded. Or bored. As if nothing in the world had yet to impress or surprise him.
“What are we doing here?” I asked. “Are we waiting for someone?”
“Certainly not Vasili,” Azriel grumbled under his breath. “He sees himself as above meeting in back alleys. No, darling, we’re waiting for our mark.”
I swallowed down my laughter. “Mark isn’t a very intimidating name for a gangster.”
Azriel chuckled. “His name isn’t Mark. It’s Joe. Joseph Connelly. Mark is the term for an intended victim. Come on, doll, you’ve got to get with the program,” he laughed as he made a mockery of the popular slang. “This is a hit, and we’re after the mark.”
I nodded in answer, absorbing every bit of information like a sponge. I wanted to prove to Azriel that I could handle going out with him on jobs. Most women celebrated their strength and independence in the voting booths. But that wasn’t good enough for me, not anymore. Just as Azriel was above loyalty to humans, I was above their stereotypes. I had preternatural strength, speed, and life. I wanted to use my gifts and stretch my muscles. And like Azriel, I was bored.
“So,” I said, tucking a curling lock of hair back into my fedora, “Your new boss doesn’t meet in back alleys, but your old one doesn’t seem to mind?”
“Not exactly.” Azriel balanced the knife on the tip of his finger, before flipping it and catching it in the other hand by the handle. “He’s got a chippie on the side, a dancer. They meet here on Wednesdays and Fridays.” He pointed the knife to a high window across the street. “He takes her up to a room he rents on the fourth story.”
I cocked my head to the side. “How do you know this? Did he tell you?”
Azriel smirked. “No one knows.”
I looked up to the fourth story window, wondering what sort of room a gangster used for romantic trysts. Azriel traced his finger along my jaw. “One thing you must remember, Darian: Trust no one. If Joe suspected for a second that I wasn’t on the up and up, he’d try to have me killed.” He grinned. “Not that he’d be successful, but that doesn’t matter. Everyone has secrets, my love. There’s not a person on this earth who isn’t hiding something. And I make it my business to unearth those secrets. I never go into any situation without the upper hand.”
His confidence, the almost arrogant tone of this voice, intoxicated me. My blood coursed hot and fast through my veins and my skin tingled with excitement. This was the thrill Azriel craved and the only way to get it was by being one step ahead. All of the time. “What about the girlfriend?” I wanted to show Azriel that I could be one step ahead of him. “If you wait until they’re together, she becomes a liability.”
Azriel pressed me against the brick wall and slid his fingers inside my suit jacket. My eyes drifted shut as he took a deep breath and held it in his lungs. “Have I ever told you how sexy I find your intelligence?” he asked as he exhaled.
A pleasant shudder ran from my head to my toes. His warm breath tickled my ear, and the sensation of his fingers caressing me through the silk shirt made my heart skip in my chest. “The mistress?” I persisted, though my voice came as a lazy murmur.
“Like you said . . .” He pressed his lips to my temple. “A liability.”
“You can’t kill her.”
Azriel slumped against me and he sighed. I knew the sound too well. Exasperation. With me, with my conscience, with my constant questions.
“Azriel,” I whispered as I combed my fingers through his thick, dark hair. “She’s innocent.”
“You can’t save them all.” He put an arm’s length of space between us, and I suddenly felt cold without his body against mine. “You say you’re curious. You claim to only want to learn more about them. But I know why we go out and walk amongst the humans night after night. I see your shrewd gaze picking them over. Searching.”
I wrapped my arms around myself as if to keep some of his warmth with me. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Azriel fixed me with a serious stare. “You look for him.”
“Him?”
“Henry.”
I pushed myself from the wall and brought my hand up to slap him good and hard. But Azriel grabbed my wrist in his unyielding grip, and I struggled against him. “I’m no fool, Darian, so do me the honor of not treating me like one. Since our first night in the city, when you let that foolish would-be thief live, you’ve been looking for more of his ilk. More of Henry’s ilk, in the hopes of catching one of them before they do their worst to some poor helpless girl. The girl you used to be.”
Damn him, he was right.
“You need to let go of that nagging humanity you’re holding on to so tight. I’ll spare Joe’s chippie—if I can. But an assassin must always cover his tracks. And that means no witnesses.”
He released my hand when he realized the fire had drained right out of me. I couldn’t admit to Azriel the real reason I’d begged to come with him and become a part of his new business endeavor: I wanted to learn how to turn my more tender emotions off. At least for a while. I wanted to experience that lovely gray area that Azriel lived in. I wanted to embrace the indifference.
“The mistress is a liability.” I repeated Azriel’s words as if to convince myself that her death would be necessary. But I knew deep down that if I could keep her safe, I would.
He playfully tapped the tip of my nose with his finger. “That’s my girl.”
I followed Azriel’s instructions and kept to the shadows. I watched. Listened. Waited. And when I thought I’d nod off right there, Joe Connolly stumbled into the alley.
He didn’t look much like a crime boss––or, at least, what I pictured a crime boss to look like. Short, dumpy, and balding, Joe didn’t even bother to dress the part. His suit looked cheap and rumpled, his tie ragged and askew. His eyes were glazed over as if he’d had too much to drink, or perhaps something else. Opium, maybe. He listed to one side like the street was slipping out from under him. The effort seemed futile, but he straightened his tie and dusted himself. Like that was going to help improve his appearance.
“We’re in luck.” Azriel’s voice came as a dark whisper in my mind. “He’s been having a little too much fun tonight. This will be an easy kill.”
The cavalier manner with which Azriel spoke of Joe’s impending death caused my breath to hitch in my chest. My pulse thundered in my ears, though my incorporeal form was shrouded by the cover of darkness. Azriel was going to kill this man, and I was at the very least going to witness the act. I had come to the point of no return. It was too late to go back now.
Chapter 8
I steeled myself against the weakness that threatened to send me rushing away in a blur of darkness. I sensed Azriel at my side, his shadows brushing against mine in a reassuring caress. Joe checked his watch and licked his palm before smoothing down what meager hair still clung for dear life to his balding head. I had no idea who his mistress was, but apparently she didn’t hold her lovers to very high standards.
The sound of revelry grew loud in the still night before it was muffled by a door slamming closed. Footsteps echoed on the street, the pace increasing from
I heard Azriel sigh, the sound more like a breath of wind. Apparently he had no interest in seeing their amorous display. Knowing Azriel, he wanted to get the show on the road.
