Page 32 of Agent vs. Assassin

Chapter Twenty-One

“Mother of Jesus, can they not just wait a minute?” Kane mutters, rolling off of me and reaching for his pants while both our phones go silent.

But not for long.

We’ve accepted the inevitable, and I follow his lead and scramble for my clothing. There’s no peace for the wicked, and we are most definitely the wicked. I’m not sure I’d have it any other way, though I’d take a little less cartel in our lives right about now. Ghost and Pocher are enough.

Once we’re both dressed, I reach for my phone, prepared to navigate whatever waits on me, but apparently Kane isn’t as ready. He catches my arm and gives me one of his intense, for me only looks, framed with the kind of hard edge he does so well. “You have to trust me.” It’s as much order as plea, a weird combination he manages to pull off a bit too often, considering it works for me.

“You’re pretty much the only person I trust, Kane. I mean, yes, I trust Jay, but sometimes in the wrong way. I trust him to put himself in harm’s way. Yes. Check. I trust him to—”

“Lilah.”

“I trust you, Kane.”

“Are you sure about that?” he challenges.

“Why does this feel like a trick question?”

“Because as we’ve established, I know you, which means you’re not going to hear what I’m about to say to you. You have the attention of not one, but two lethal killers.”

“Three if you count Elsa, though I’m not sure I have her attention yet.”

“Lilah.”

“Kane.”

“My father and Ghost aren’t just killers. They’re intelligent, calculating, successful killers, and that success stretches over time. They have staying power. And the biggest mistake you will ever make is to think they are like anyone you have ever faced.”

“If I underestimated even one of the people I have faced, I’d be dead. And that whole Enrique tattling to daddy thing is not cool. If he chooses the wrong moment to defy me, that can get us killed.”

“Cut him some slack, bella. Enrique knows the brutality of my father. He’s seen it firsthand. I understand why he wanted to call me, and you should as well.”

“He called you because he was afraid you’d kill him if he didn’t.”

“I might have, if I wasn’t too dead to get the job done. My father loves a good distraction to a murder. Enrique knows that. He was as concerned for you as he was for me.” There’s a knock on the door, and his scowl could burn a hole in Hell.

With a Spanish curse, he releases me and heads for the door, rubbing the back of his neck in the process. I grab my phone, dismissing the topic of Enrique as I eye what appears to beten thousandtext messages from Tic Tac that started out normal and reasonable.

All three of the targets not attending my father’s party are in DC. Maryland is less than an hour away. I’d expected Elsa to be in DC; only DC will be locked down after a director, one of their own, was murdered.

Maybe the party isn’t in play after all.

I scan a few more messages. Chief Houston is asking about Murphy and the status of the case. DD, the ME on Murphy’s case wants to know if I want to join in the autopsy. The ME in the Gomez case is asking the same thing. There’s nothing from that little dweeb Lucas.

I’m back to more messages from Tic Tac, noting the rising level of agitation—I need help, answer your phone, and for once answer your phone. Where is Lucas?is another theme.

“The sketch artist will be here in thirty minutes,” Kane informs me, stepping back into the room. “I told them to just have him wait, maybe give him that damn strawberry pie. I can’t believe you got him pie, Lilah.”

“That pie is so good, it distracted him. He forgot to try to kill me,” I joke, and then on a serious note, “I don’t know if he’s really going after my father. I think it was a distraction.” My cellphone rings in my hand, and I glance at the caller ID. “It’s Tic Tac, and he’s losing his shit on text message. I have to take it.”

I plop down in the chair behind me and hit “answer,” and before I can say a word, I’m blasted. “I thought you were handling Lucas?!” His voice squeaks with panic, and I’ve heard a lot of things from Tic Tac before, even panic, but never with the Mickey Mouse voice.

“What is going on with you, Tic Tac?”

“I don’t know, Lilah,” Tic Tac says, snark in his tone. “I’ve been shuffled all over the place, threatened, scared, and bodies are dropping like flies. Is Ellis dead, or dirty, and I’m now on his shit list?”

“Ellis isn’t coming after you.”

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