Page 9 of Deadly Sights

No one notices me as I sprint to the other building. I check my watch and the surrounding area. Everyone walks about casually, but that means nothing. I take the risk that he hasn’t left the property and I slip inside. Faint footsteps from abovespur me into action. On the third-floor landing, I stumble to a halt.

“You!”

Hestops and grins.Grins!“Fancy meeting you here, Keeper.”

A sharp pain slices through my head, but I try to shake it off.

“As much as I’d like to stay and chat, here and now’s not a good time.” He grabs my elbow and starts running down the stairs with me.

I need to fight him off, but I’m too disoriented to do anything other than follow him out of the building and to his waiting vehicle. Flashes of a room full of metal cabinets sear through my brain, causing me to clutch my head.

“Keeper?” His concern reaches me through the fog, but more images bombard me, places I’ve never seen and can’t identify.

“Stop the car,” I say while taking in gulps of air.

He pulls over and I run out to collapse on the sidewalk and heave. He appears beside me to rub circles on my back and lifts the hair from my neck. Nothing comes out but acid burns the back of my throat. Cool air hits my nape and the soothing action at my spine helps to center me in the present, forcing the pictures and sounds in my mind to fade.

“Here.” He hands me a bottled water.

I glare at him, then at the bottle.

“It’s not drugged.”

After a few seconds of internal debate, I snatch the bottle and chug it.

“We haven’t gone far enough to be safe.” He ushers me back to the car.

“Who are you?” I ask.

He glances at me from the corner of his eye. A flash of pain briefly darkens his gaze and he presses his lips in a weary line before he schools his expression.

What have I said to cause that reaction?

“Considering our professions, I doubt you’d believe me.”

“Tell me anyway.”

He nods. “I have a few names. Tell me when you recognize one. The first, someone I was very fond of gave me. She called me Trapper.”

Again, pain slices through my head. This time the ache is more tolerable than the last. “That doesn’t suit you.”

He firms his lips and his nostrils flare while he gets whatever bug he’s got up his ass under control. “Then you might recognize Reaper.”

“You’re fucking lying.”

In our circle, the Reaper matches me for record kills. He’s pulled off some of the most daring assassinations with high-profile targets even more important than the head of a royal family.

Reaper pulls up to my hotel, and all the reasons that had me running to beat his ass come to mind again. The valet takes his car and he ushers me to a different floor. Curious, I remain quiet as he opens a suite door.

I follow him inside.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions—” He dodges the knife I send flying in his direction. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“You stole my target and you’re staying at the same hotel? Why are you stalking me? Did someone send you to kill me?”

He blocks my roundhouse kick with laughable ease and every punch I throw at him. “You’ve got me all wrong.”

I step back to reassess the situation. My anger is controlling my reactions and I’m betraying my intentions if he can predict my strikes.

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