Page 6 of Cause Of Death

Edgar took it a step further. Housewares, skincare and cosmetics, personal care products, food, fashion, books and entertainment, even home security. They designed and developed educational apps and games, as well as devices like child-safe phones and jewelry with trackers in them. They were endorsed by Disney and catered to all income brackets. It was like rolling Target, Saks, Macy's, and Sears all into one. Even their catchphrases were enticing:Eat Like a Royal;Live Like a Royal;Dress Like a Royal;Sleep Like a Royal;Anyone Can Be Royal.

This is not going to be an easy job, that’s for sure.

I don’t knowhow long we all stand around in the kitchen, staring down at the card, but we are all startled back into the here-and-now by the slamming of the front door.

“Where is everyone?” Steve’s voice echoes through the house, rebounding off the walls until it reaches our ears.

“In the kitchen,” Henley rumbles back, his tone stern and uncompromising. Oh joy. Daddy Henley is in control, which means that he’s about to start laying down the law.

“So, what are you going to do, Dee? I know you’ll get all the info if you accept the contract, but this one goeswaaaybeyond what you’ve agreed to in the past. The Prince family has more security than the King of England, for all that they’re not actual royalty.” Kimberly’s gaze is filled with uncertainty, and in a way, I get it. Up until now, most of my targets have been relatively small fry—domestic abuse victims, embezzlers, corrupt businessmen and officials, and even a minor celebrity who thought they could intimidate their victim and pay off law enforcement to cover up their hit-and-run while driving high as a kite. But this?

No.

The contract for Kieran Prince is on a completely different level, as evidenced by the exceedingly high payout.

“I don’t think this is going to be a normal contract, Kimmy,” I respond slowly, my thoughts darting from one possibility to another at the speed of light.

Warmth steals over my back at the same moment that a pair of muscular, freckled arms brace the bench-top on either side from behind me. Traces of fresh linen, hops, and newly cut grass linger in my nose, almost hidden by the clean scents of soap, laundry powder, and the powdery hint of unscented deodorant.

“What’s going on, guys? Is that what I think it is?” Steve asks, and something deep inside me settles knowing that everyone I care for is here with me, safe and sound.

I sigh softly and lean back into the delicious bulk of Steve, his body heat enveloping me like a hug. Henley’s gaze meets mine for a moment, the longing there quickly shuttered before he glances away. My heart tugs a little, knowing that he wants me inhisarms instead of Steve’s, but that I’m not ready to take thatstep, not yet. There’s nothing sexual or possessive in the way I’m being held, but that would soon change if it were Henley’s arms cradling my body to his. Hence the distance.

The solid wall of Steve’s chest is warm and soothing, settling my nerves once more. I ignore the conversation flowing around me about the possibilities and implications that both accepting and declining the contract would have for me, but one particular thread keeps tugging at my thoughts.

The Guild would never send me a target or a job that would diametrically oppose my innate sense of morality or violate my chosen criteria.

Clarity suffuses me and I make my decision. I stealthily use one of Gizmo’s claws to prick my finger, and then pick up the card. The others don’t even get a chance to protest my move before the card blinks out of existence, and knowledge floods my brain.

The first time I accepted a contract through the Guild, I was gobsmacked at the way they delivered the pertinent information. There was no email or phone call, no face-to-face conference with a “handler,” or a package in the mail. Nope. Instead, it was a straight transfer of knowledge directly into my brain. Think of how Keanu received information in eitherJohnny Mnemonicor any of theMatrixmovies, but without the insertion of a physical probe into my temporal lobe. The first time had been disorienting, sending me to bed with a nausea-inducing migraine. Accessing the sheer volume of information had also been overwhelming at the start, but I’ve since managed to create a system to help navigate my way through it all with little more than a nagging headache.

Blueprints, schedules, access codes, and file after file on relevant personnel flicks through my mind like a movie reel on fast forward. I again tune out the noise of raised voices asI concentrate on the information downloading directly into my gray matter.

On the surface it all appears to be fairly straightforward. A contract has been issued for Kieran Prince, with the kill order requesting the cause of death appear as “natural causes.” The reasoning given for the hit is that he’s a pedophile the family has been hiding and protecting while also trying to find a way to “help” him overcome his predilections. However, accusations have arisen that paint him as a major player in a child-trafficking ring with an emphasis on child pornography and “red rooms.” If there’s any truth to this, then Kieran Prince ticks all the relevant boxes to be taken out by me.

If it’s true.

Which, according to my gut, it’s not.

“Guys, can it for a moment. I’m not about to waltz into one of the Prince compounds and execute Kieran. Something here is twigging my Wispy senses, and I think that’s why the Guild sent it to me. I not only have the ability to go and check things out for myself without being discovered, but I have you all as my support team as well. So, we’ll take this slowly, and once I have my answer, I’ll proceed accordingly. If the hit is genuine, goodbye Kieran Prince.”

“And if it’s not, little Wisp? What then?”

I meet Henley’s angry glare, his jaw clenched so hard I’m surprised his teeth haven’t shattered yet.

“Then I deal with the lying liars who want me to do their dirty work for them. I refuse to be used in such a manner, especially because someone very dear to me taught me once that you should always stand up for the little guy, because they can get into places the bigger guy can’t… including the intestines. Don’t forget about the clause I requested in my agreement with the Guild. I can always eliminate the client, if needs be. After all, the Guild ‘sees all’, and will understand my motivation.”

I grin at him, twitching an eyebrow mischievously in challenge. He doesn’t let me down.

“Right. In that case, little Wisp, I want you to jot down everything pertinent about the target that the Guild has sent you.” He grinds out, his orders just shy of an alpha bark. “Les, if you can put your feelers out and start searching for anything, no matter how boring or outlandish, that you can about Prince and his family. Steve, starting tomorrow I want you to do what you do best—surreptitiously stake out the primary locations where Prince can be found, and make notes of accessibility to the public, exits, security, etc. Kimberly, work with the others and create dossiers on Prince, his family, and those closest to him. Trawl through everything—and I mean,everything—that has their name attached to it.I have to go back east in a few days to finalize my separation and formal discharge, but once that’s all done, I’ll pack up and head back here.” I shiver as Henley points his finger at me, the command in his voice doing awfully delicious things to my body.

“You are not, I repeatNOT, to do anything more than observe until my return, Disa Mariah Aloft, is that understood?”

I bite back a smile at the muttered, “Ooh, the full legal name. You’re in trouble now, short-stack,” that drifts over my shoulder, and I gently elbow Steve in the ribs.

“Yes, Hen. Understood.” I soothe my not-yet-alpha playfully, but reach out and squeeze his hand with mine just to reassure him that I’m taking his request seriously. A lot of things are about to change now that Henley’s moving out west to be closer to us all, and it’s a major leap in our relationship. The poor guy is a nervous wreck.

Without another word we all break from our huddle around the island bench. Leslie is already tapping away at their smartphone, but quickly finishes and heads back to the discarded controllers. Kimberly joins them as I head upstairs tomy bedroom. I’m tired and need a shower, and I wrinkle my nose at the thought of Mitchell Collins’ lingering scent tainting my skin. Heavy footfalls follow me up the stairs, and I wave loosely in the direction of the spare bedrooms.

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