Page 14 of Death Wish

The rain couldn’t touch me, but I wrapped my arms around myself anyway, still able to feel the chill and dampness in the air. Every so often, when the wind would gush, my hair would be tossed about, the elements temporarily breaking the plane.

It was weird how some things transferred between worlds and some things didn’t.

Hurrying across downtown, I navigated with ease, and quickly came to Quincy Street. Oh! Kay’s and a multifunctioning office building were the largest structures on the street, and between them stretched a small alleyway meant for deliveries, a quick fire escape, if needed, and storing garbage cans.

Kay’s shop had the shades drawn and appeared closed, which was odd. Kay was normally open at this time. Maybe she had taken the day off? God, I hoped so. She didn’t need to be around with a half-demon in the neighborhood.

I peered into the alley between her shop and the office. A shadowy figure lay on the ground next to a few turned-over trash cans. Cautiously, I crept closer.

Besides the spilled garbage everywhere, my assignment, Cole Masters, was sprawled out facedown covered in mud and God knows what else. The relentless rain soaked every bit of him but did little to wash away the stomach-turning stench of urine and rotting waste radiating from the small alley.

I glanced around. We were completely alone.

So, what was his cause of death?

I studied the profile again. It read Head trauma. Blunt force object. Fight.

Staring down at Cole’s unmoving body again, I figured that made sense. There seemed to have been a scuffle of some kind with the mess left behind. Maybe his opponent had run off in fear of being caught by the police? Wouldn’t be the first time.

Who was strong enough to take down a half-demon? Nothing was on fire, but with the storm, any remaining flames surely would have been extinguished by now.

Squatting beside him, I squinted against the darkness in search for blood. There were puddles all around but no obvious crimson coloring nearby. Not even on his clothing or jacket. He faced away from me, so if there was an impact wound, I couldn’t see it.

The slight rise and fall of his back told me he was still breathing, but that was the only movement coming from him. Most likely unconscious. That would be the way to go, wouldn’t it? While sleeping? Blissfully unaware.

A car passed, its headlights illuminating the alley briefly but enough to reflect against something silver near the opposite end of the lane. Small in size with a distinct L-shape to it.

A gun.

Cole’s or his assailant’s?

The profile hadn’t mentioned anything about a gunshot wound.

Leaning over his body, I finally got a good look at his face.

I knew him.

Not personally. We’d crossed paths before on a few other of my assignments as the one who had murdered the men I had been ordered to reap. Not only was Cole Masters a half-demon, but he was a gun-for-hire. He killed people for a living. All kinds. Both human and supernatural. The gun suddenly fit into this scenario perfectly.

Oh man. I was in way over my head with this one.

Had one of his hits gone south? From the kills I had come across, Cole was a master at his job. He was neat and usually masked his kills as an accident or suicide, making sure not to leave any evidence to connect the job back to him.

But what had gone wrong this time?

I shouldn’t be asking questions. That was what had landed me in a mess last time with Tristen. I needed to just carry out my assignment and not worry about anything else. No second-guessing. No meddling where I didn’t belong. Azrael and Simon were counting on me to carry this out, and that was what I was going to do.

Readjusting myself, I crouched next to Cole’s body again, pulled off one of my gloves, and reached to touch the side of his face. In that moment, his eyes flew open, brilliant blue orbs taken over by dilated pupils. I gasped, jerking back, and fell onto my butt hard.

Cole scrambled to his feet faster than a man should, especially a man who was hurt and had just been unconscious. His head whipped toward me, and his wild gaze roamed over my face, seeing me—really seeing me.

Too stunned to speak, I recoiled and jumped up onto wobbly legs. Cole’s eyes followed me the entire time, and my heart banged against my rib cage, mimicking the living function. How could he see me? His profile hadn’t said he was a Medium, too. He shouldn’t be able to make contact with spirits.

More importantly, wasn’t he supposed to be close to death?

“Who are you?” he rasped, confirming my fears.

I blinked, and in that split second, he was holding a gun in his hand and had it aimed at me.

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