Page 1 of Retaliation
CHAPTER ONE
Sara
Oh fuck me, I’m about to die.
I scrambled back, ducking behind a maroon wingbacked chair as the next gunshot rang out, the bullet narrowly missing my head. Despite the fact I’d spiked this motherfucker’s drink with enough sleeping pills to knock out a whale, he was still standing. Sort of. Furniture crashed as he wobbled around the room, shouting for my death. I peeked over the chair and ducked back down just as quickly when he fired the gun again. The bullet whizzed by where my forehead had been seconds before, exploding into the drywall behind me. I guess they didn’t call him Bullseye for nothing. Thankfully the Rohypnol slowed his reflexes enough for me to dodge his shots. The bulky asshole lunged for the chair, and I darted behind a bookshelf. He roared his fury, his words slurring as he hounded after me. Thank the gods I wore my combat boots tonight instead of my heels. The shoes didn’t match my dress, but whatever. Comfort over fashion. Kill or be killed.
The sizable mansion ten minutes outside of Boston was pretty much destroyed. I’d managed to cut down the majority of The Obscuritas cult henchmen while they sat around their fancy dinner table getting drunk on their uber-rich employer’s fancy liquor. The last few goons had been holed up in the study smoking cigars, exactly where I anticipated them to be. But damn if Bullseye didn’t go along with my plan, favoring his smokes over the drugged booze—hence the sloppy shootout. I had one weapon left and I had to make this final strike count.
“Alright, I’m coming out! Don’t shoot yet!” I made my voice quiver with fear like a frightened little girl. A naturally soft voice had its perks.
More incoherent words tumbled from his lips. I was very confident he said something like “Sure Sara, come on out and let’s be friends.”
I slid the knife from my boot and sucked in a steadying breath, quieting my mind and sinking into the darkness inside me, preparing to pounce on my prey. My eyes snapped open, and I sprinted around the bookshelf and threw the blade seconds before Bullseye could pull the trigger. The knife buried to the hilt in his left eye. He dropped a heartbeat later, and I let out a sigh of relief.
Bullseye, motherfucker. I snorted at my own joke, then winced as pain shot through my ribs. Definitely bruised, possibly broken. But I healed quickly—like inhumanly quickly—so at least I had that going for me.
I looked around at the other dead bodies, but none of them were important enough to remember. I didn’t mind killing them. Actually, I enjoyed it. My body sang with adrenaline and arousal at what I’d just done. Fucked up, maybe, but I didn’t linger on that thought. Avoiding emotions like guilt and feeding on ones like rage worked well for me over the last decade. Besides, they were all predators. Karma was bound to catch up with them. And tonight, I was their karma.
Bullseye, aka Big Fugly Douchebag, was one of the top assassins working for The Obscuritas, and he had a vile kink for torturing women. Rule Number One, never trust grown men in creepy cults. Unfortunately, the core members of The Obscuritas were much more than creepy. They were vile murderers with fucked up rituals. And they would pay for taking my family from me and fucking up every good thing I had ever known.
My dagger slid from Bulleye’s eye socket easily. I wiped his filthy blood off the blade with his jacket. Blood dripped down my arm from a nasty cut, so I tore a piece of fabric from the dead guy’s shirt and tied it around the wound, knotting it with my teeth. I picked my way through the broken glass and overturned furniture toward the front door, sucking in fresh, wintry air soon as I opened it. The wind whipped my hair around my face. I was still getting used to the silvery blue color of it, but I couldn’t risk anyone recognizing my signature copper locks. The brown-colored contacts itched my eyes, and I was more than ready for comfy clothes and a steaming hot shower to wash away this day.
I stepped over the dead guy on the doorstep and walked toward my Buell motorcycle, one of my few prized possessions. Many hours were spent modifying and painting the bike to make it my own. Riding was a freedom unlike anything else. For that stretch of time, I was free from my thoughts and the darkness attempting to swallow me whole.
“Come in, Nova,” a voice cracked in my ear, and I winced from all the gunshots still ringing in my brain.
“Here, Tib—”
She cut me off quickly. “Code names, Nova.”
I rolled my eyes. “Here, Zenith.”
“Injuries?” The click, click, click of her keyboard echoed in my ear as I made my way down the long driveway.
“Minor,” I grunted, holding my ribs and eyeing the cut on my arm.
“Casualties?” She popped a gum bubble in my ear.
I snorted. “Many. Full house tonight. Including one very dead Bullseye.”
“I saw. Really going for that deadly double entendre, eh?” Zenith popped another bubble.
I snorted a laugh. “I suppose I did. Felt good too. Did you get anything from them?”
Tibby let out an evil laugh. “Of course. Despite your failure to keep them from blowing their entire system to hell, I was able to extract some information before they crashed the network.”
I smirked to myself. “Your skills are inferior to none, queen.” I hesitated, but couldn’t help asking my next question. “Anything on my family?”
The silence verified what I already knew. If Tibby had found them, she would have told me right away.
“Sorry, friend. Not yet.”
I swallowed down my emotions and sighed. “See you later, Zenith.”
Another bubble popped in my ear. “Peace out, Nova.”
I strapped on my helmet, tucking my hair inside, and revved the Buell’s engine. My motorcycle was great for quick getaways, even if it was a freezing January night in Massachusetts. I zipped down the dead-end street and away from the bloody mess, not feeling the cold biting at my skin quite like most people did. I kept the lights off as I eased out onto the main road. Tibby hacked into the cameras and diverted the feed when I first arrived at the house, but I couldn’t risk someone seeing me leave.
