Page 72 of Assassin: Part 1

It’s my turn to laugh. “Darling, I’ve been dealing with far bossier men than anyone in your life, don’t worry about that. And feelings never come into the equation. You have to have them in the first place, and I thankfully don’t have that affliction.”

“Uh-huh, sure. Fine. So, future aunt, are you ever going to tell me your name?”

I still. Of course she would ask me that. The one thing I don’t give out freely. Something that can’t be taken back once it’s given. Or can be used against you.

I slide out of the SUV but don’t shut the door right away. Do I tell her the truth or give her what I call myself? She’s going to find out eventually, but the last thing I want to do is frighten her or have her reveal who I am to everyone else before I’m ready.

Well, to those who don’t already know. Rori and her man being excluded in that. Their fear of me is the only reason they haven’t. Yet.

“Lane,” I say. “You can call me Lane.”

She tilts her head slightly, assessing me. Finally, she smiles. “Yeah, that suits you. One more question and then we’ll go.”

This girl…

“Make it quick,” I snap, patience running thin.

“What’s your code name? The assassin one?”

“You don’t go around asking someone that, darling. Especially not someone like me who has to remain anonymous.”

“If we’re going to be family, you have to learn we’re the ones you can trust. Besides, I’ve never told my father or uncle about you sending me those letters or people to protect me. Or people trying to take me. I think I’ve proven I can be trusted. And I didn’t tell them you were here either. That has to count.”

She has a point, but I don’t want to risk her. I don’t want to put a target on her back if anyone ever figures out who I am. What she is to me.

I glance back at Mishka, who is clearly listening. He cocks his head slightly, lifting his chin a bit. His eyes are telling me to tell her. To trust her.

Damn it. I’m going to do this, and I’m going to regret it; I already do.

“Chameleon. My code name is Chameleon.” I shut the door on her shocked face.

I don’t know if I’ve just screwed everything up or not, but I have to keep moving. We don’t have time to waste.

31

ILYA

Timur Belov and the Bratva Butcher come in hot and heavy. Explosions fill the air, smoke and fire spread, blanketing everything in its path. And Timur’s men don’t expect it.

Bastards are lazy, and it’s going to work to our advantage. Especially as most of the first line are blown away—pun intended—by the initial blasts. Still, they charge, but none of them seem ready for our men to meet them.

When I built this place, I knew the elements, the lines I wanted to draw in case we were ever attacked, and the men were trained on them from day one. It’s finally time to see that paying off. This is the largest scale assault we’ve ever had, and I’m not about to fucking lose.

“Move, move, move!” Oleg barks through the comms in my ear to the men. I shout to the men with me, and Zakhar’s voice is quickly behind, moving his team.

We’re going to come at them from all sides and watch our back with whatever trick the Bratva Butcher is planning to pull.

Rori O’Brien, the only assassin on our side, was clear in her instructions, and I hate to think she’s right.

“The Butcher loves to play mind games. He will make you think one thing while his man is behind you and already sliding the knife in your gut or shooting the bullet in your head.”

I can’t allow that to happen, and it fucking plays with your head to know you have to watch every fucking angle.

“Fuck, the guards lost track of Simeon in the blasts,” Oleg barks.

“He’s the least of my worries right now,” I snap, firing on the men who come running around the corner of the house from the woods. They fall with pained cries, and the next wave starts. My men surround me, firing, shoving me back when a few bullets get a little too close. “I want eyes on Timur and the Butcher. Those are our targets. I’ll deal with Simeon later.”

“No eyes on them. We haven’t seen any signs,” Zakhar replies. “It’s just soldiers.”