Page 20 of Sovereign Oaths

With each step, I let my assassin mask slip into place, until I reached the building, rolled my shoulders back, making my breasts more prominent, and tugged my V-neck down to showcase the cleavage I’d be using as distraction number one.

It was pathetic how predictable men were. One low-cut shirt, a plump smile, and fluttering lashes were all it ever took to lure them in.

I slipped onto a stool at the bar and waited patiently for the tatted bartender to notice me. He was chatting with my target, not in an overly friendly manner, more like this was their mundane routine. He glanced over, met my eyes, and held up a finger, letting me know he saw me.

There were more patrons than I expected for so early in the evening, about ten or so other middle-aged men spread throughout the tables. Quiet eighties rock played, the only other noise besides two guys playing a slow game of pool.

My target was a nondescript man, maybe early fifties, with thinning ashy-brown hair and a pronounced stomach. Not someone people would notice or remember. He didn’t wear a wedding ring, and from what Rod knew, he lived alone with no family in the state.

Thinking beyond that about his life was a waste of time. I wouldn’t feel bad, no matter how pathetic this human was. The Pack wanted him dead, and that was it.

If I suddenly developed a conscience, my life would be over too. A sentimental assassin was useless, even more so than a barren female wolf.

While he sipped from his beer bottle, I subtly adjusted my wig, itching behind my left ear. I hadn’t packed any of my good ones since the Dias mission didn’t call for one and was regretting that decision. At least it was a natural color—a brown bob that would keep me from standing out. I didn’t want anyone remembering me here either.

“What can I get you?” The bartender popped his knuckles while I pretended to have to decide.

“Whatever you recommend on draft.” I hated beer and wouldn’t be drinking it, but not ordering anything would be odd.

He sat an amber-filled glass in front of me. “Do you want to start a tab?”

“No, thanks.” I slid over a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

He nodded and moved back toward the front where two new men were waiting.

I could wait until the bar filled up more, but my stomach was nearly growling and demanding that Thai Cruz promised.

The target was on bottle three and showed no signs of slowing down, so I grabbed my drink and picked a table toward the back of the room. The movement caught his attention, and I smiled at him. He froze, and I raised a brow.

He glanced around like he was expecting someone to pop up behind him. No, sir, you’re the one.

I lifted the glass to my lips and pretended to drink. He watched, taking a swig of his. I sat mine down on the table and waved him over. He stared.

Seriously, dude?

I laughed and tapped the tabletop to my side with my nail, showing him exactly where I wanted him.

He gulped and looked around again—still no one behind him—before standing and slowly coming over.

“Hey.” I grinned when he was a few feet away.

“Hi?” His confusion was clear. “Can I help you?”

I shrugged. “We’re both drinking alone. I was wondering if you wanted company.”

He stared at his beer, then looked up at me before claiming the other stool and resting his elbows on the table while keeping his bottle in front of his chest like a shield.

“I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I’m only in town for the night. I’m leaving on a cruise in the morning.”

He nodded. “Sounds fun.”

“I hope so.” I kept my voice cheerful, but I was already growing bored. This wasn’t the challenge I expected. Luring men to their deaths used to be somewhat exciting. “This is my first. Have you been on one before?”

“Yeah, you can find really cheap deals last minute…”

I ignored him as he droned on. Maybe it was the highs and lows of the Dias case that ruined this for me. There were actual stakes there. Every day held the potential of a true challenge. Navigating a man like Alessio was complicated and kept me on my toes.

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