Page 5 of Cause Of Death

The most obvious of the modifications is the midnight tint over the back side and rear windows, the darkest legally allowed here in California. However, with all the celebs and moguls, along with the incredible number of sunny days we get here, nobody bats an eyelid at my windows. Now, if they knewwhyI decided to get my windows tinted so darkly, then I’m sure I’d be attracting all sorts of attention, left, right, and center.

I do a quick circle of the car, paying particular attention to the wheel wells and the undercarriage. When nothing out of the ordinary jumps out at me, I swarm up through my favorite air intake and out from the floor vents into the back foot wells of my car. My clothes are where I’ve left them, and thanks to the way I’ve parked and the dark tint, nobody can see me as I reshape and solidify into my corporeal form, before quickly getting dressed. In moments, I’m just another Cali girl rocking cutoff faded denim shorts, a lacy forest green-colored midi-tank with spaghetti straps, an oversize cream knitted cardigan, and a pair of Vans. Scrambling back into the front seat, I pick up the jewelry I’d left in the cup holder, looping the gold hoopsback through my ears, and shoving several beaded bracelets over my wrists. A fine gold chain holding a chunky pendant wraps around my throat, and the last addition to my outfit is a pair of mirrored aviator sunglasses pushed up into my hair. My clutch is locked away in my trunk, so after another quick check to make sure that nobody can see me, I grab my keys from the center console, unlock the car, and get out.

As I exit the car, the overhead lighting shines down on a small, black card tucked discreetly beneath one of the windshield wipers. I disregard it for the moment, instead heading to the trunk and retrieving my clutch. It’s only as I walk back to the open driver’s door that I pluck the cardboard from its hidey-hole and stash it in the center console.

I ignore it as I start the engine, put the gear in reverse, and back out of my parking space. I pay the card no mind as I shift into drive and head to the exit of the garage. No notice is given to the glossy black rectangle as I pay for my parking and then merge into the traffic of downtown Fresno. It’ll take me roughly an hour to get home to Merced, and I want to sit and think before I either accept or decline this contract. I’ve been a member of the Guild for less than a year, and so far my contracts have been spaced out to one every six to eight weeks. Receiving another one straight on the heels of a completed contract is…unusual, in my limited experience.

But then again, nothing about the Guild and their interactions are predictable or “normal.” I mean, it’s a Guild ofassassins, for fuck’s sake.

There’s a Ford Bronco parked in front of the house.

Kimberly is an absolute menace on the roads with her Vespa, and Leslie would probably marry their Corvette if they could. Steve drives a fairly beat-up Jeep, so that means that the Bronco can really only belong to one person.

What the FUCK is Henley doing here?

I maneuver around the beast and onto the drive, tapping the remote to trigger the garage door. Kimmy’s Vespa is tucked against the back of the garage instead of parked in her half, with a cherry-red Corvette taking up her usual spot.

Great. If both Leslie and Henley are here, it means that Steve’s not far behind. I love my chosen family, don’t get me wrong, but up until recently—as in eleven months ago—only the direst of circumstances or major life changes would have us gathering together.

I park my car in its usual spot, the garage door rattling slightly on its track as it closes behind me. I make a mental note to check the mechanism in the morning, and possibly lube it up if needed. Gathering my smartphone and clutch in one hand, I use the other to nab the black card that had been left for me before I exit from my car. I’m sure Henley will move his monster onto the drive soon enough, and Steve will no doubt park behind him once he gets here.

I shoulder open the connecting door to the lilting tones of smack-talk emanating from the rear of the house. Kimmy and Leslie are playing some sort of first-person shooter from the sounds of it, loudly directing each other to where the enemy is positioned.

“Up there, there’s one of them on the ridge. Shoot them! Shoot them!” Kimberly orders, and then dual whoops echo as they obviously score a direct hit.

I kick off my shoes and tuck them into the closet, leaning down to scratch the chin of my little void. Gizmo has grown so much over the last year it’s crazy. He’s almost as big as a CavalierSpaniel and now looks like a miniature panther. However, he’ll always be my little baby.

I finally make my way through the house to where everyone is hanging out. Just as I thought, both Kimberly and Leslie are playing a game, cuddled up together on the sofa facing the wall-mounted flat-screen television. Henley is supervising their playtime together from the kitchen, a mug of coffee cradled in one of his massive hands. He’s wearing worn jeans that sit low on his hips, and a form-fitting cotton V-neck T-shirt that looks incredibly soft. Most telling of all is that his feet are bare. Don’t kink shame me, but Henley hasthe sexiestfeet and toes I’ve ever seen, and with his arm-porn on display he looks absolutely delectable. If I didn’t have so many hang-ups about finally agreeing to taking him as my alpha, I’d be on him like a shopaholic on a sale. That and the fact I still smell like my terminated mark.

It all adds up to Henley having been here long enough to get comfortable, and that means he likely won’t be leaving any time soon, either.

“Hey, there, little Wisp. Your contract went off without a hitch, then?” Henley asks me quietly, his voice a low rumble that I feel in my belly.

I nod wordlessly, carefully setting my phone and clutch to one side before unceremoniously dropping the black card onto the white tile bench-top. Henley drops his gaze from me to the dark little cardboard rectangle, then glances back up at me, quirking one eyebrow.

“I thought once you accept or decline a contract, the card itself disappears. Why do you still have it?”

His question manages to hook the attention of the others, and they pause their game to listen in on my response.

“As far as I’m aware, this doesn’t have anything to do with Mitchell.” A brush at my ankles lets me know that Gizmo iswanting cuddles, so I bend over and scoop him into my arms, setting him comfortably on my hip like a baby before continuing. “I found it on my windshield after I’d dealt with him. I haven’t looked at it yet, because I’ve never had another job request so soon after completing the last one. Not since joining the Guild, at least.”

The clatter of controllers being dropped onto the coffee table precedes Kimberly and Leslie joining Henley and me in the kitchen. The four of us stare down at the innocuous yet menacing rectangle laying face-down, hiding its information from our view. Sighing, I reach out and flip it over, blinking in shock at the details etched on the surface in crimson ink.

Kieran Prince

$4.5M USD

Drop of Blood to Accept

Tear Card in Half to Decline

I rub my fingers over my eyes and then reread over the card,surethat I’m misreading the payout for the contract. Nope, I’m not seeing things, I’m being offered a cool four and a half million to take out one Kieran Prince.

Why does that name sound familiar to me?

“Oh my fucking god, are theyinsane?They want you to go after KieranfuckingPrince? The only son of Darla and Edgar Prince, who rival Jeff Zuckermusk and the freaking House of Mouse when it comes to wealth and influence? What the hell has the pampered darling offspring of the heads of the Royal Empire done to attract the attention of the Guild?” Leslie blurts out, and that’s when it twigs.

Back in the fifties, Saul Prince had opened his first storefront selling items to young families and new mothers. One storesoon became several, and he quickly discovered just how in demand the baby industry was becoming. However, once the US opened their doors to cheaper imports from abroad, Saul grew dissatisfied with the quality of the products flooding the market. So, he instead decided to research and develop his own lines to sell in his shops. Baby clothes came first, then buggies and strollers. Next came nursery furniture, safety monitors, and other handy gadgets and toys. Diapers, pacifiers, bottles, formula, and baby food all followed in quick succession. By the time Edgar Prince took over from his father in the nineties, they were a household name in the Continental USA to rival the likes of Babies R Us.

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