Page 2 of Kennedy

“I hate losing a good element to something like that,” Rhonda grumbled.

Kennedy did, too, but even if Wallace and Jimmy’s father hadn’t been such a dick, Kennedy thought that Seymour would have wanted to spend time with Jimmy.

That was fine. They’d always known they would lose most of their trainees, which was to be expected considering the kind of job they were training for. The trainees would find other jobs that wouldn’t take them away from their families for so long and wouldn’t make them kill to earn a living. Some would take more time and more training, and that was fine, too.

“Wallace Senior is still poking around,” Hawthorne said, sounding like he wished he could find the guy and get rid of him permanently.

“Well, soon you’ll have an entire team of council assassins to send after him,” Kennedy teased. “Maybe we could use that as their end-of-program mission.”

“You think you’re funny, but I’m tempted. The man doesn’t take no for an answer, and even though Wallace distanced himself from him, Jimmy can’t do the same. That man is going to be a problem.”

“He already has been.”

Kennedy was Hawthorne’s best friend, so he knew everything that had happened. He was sure that Wallace Senior would be a problem, too. He felt it wasn’t quite his business unless Wallace Senior disturbed their trainees, but he wanted to help anyway. Hawthorne deserved to be happy, and that would be next to impossible until Wallace Senior got the hell out of his and Wallace’s lives.

“Have you warned Bennett?” he asked.

“Yeah. I talked to him a few times. The first time, he found it hilarious that I had a beef with my father-in-law. With everything that happened since then, though, he understands better. He’s keeping an eye out, but I don’t know if it’ll be enough. Wallace Senior has a long reach.”

“And we have a bunch of trained assassins,” Jamison offered again.

They all knew they couldn’t use the assassins like that. Some of them, like Cynthia, wouldn’t care and might even offer, but that wasn’t what the council assassins were about.

Being a professional assassin was something that most people couldn’t wrap their minds around. It wasn’t a gray area, no matter what some people thought.

They killed for a living. The council assassins killed people the council wanted gone, and while everyone hoped that the council would do the right thing and only get rid of people who threatened the safety of the paranormal community, there could always be someone sneaking around and trying to use the assassins for their personal gain. It had happened before, and Kennedy was sure it would happen again.

Luckily, the assassins had their own minds. They could refuse jobs, and there was a system of checks and balances that would ensure that the council members didn’t take advantage of them. It could still fail, and it probably would eventually, but for now, that wasn’t something Kennedy had to think about. Hell, he might never have to think about it. He wasn’t a council member. He wasn’t even a council assassin. He was just a trainer, and he was perfectly fine with that.

* * * *

“IFEEL LIKE I SHOULDN’Tbe here.” Lewis looked at Seymour. “I really shouldn’t be, should I?”

Seymour grimaced. He was wearing workout clothes and was a bit sweaty, which was why Lewis had refused to hug him when he’d arrived. It was clear that Seymour had been training, which reminded Lewis ofwhathe was training to do.

He swallowed and tried not to puke.

When Seymour told him what he was planning on doing with his life, Lewis was skeptical, but he hadn’t said anything about it. He’d always been the softer one of them, and he liked that. He could leave the ass-kicking to his brother and focus on his flowers, which was what he’d done over the past few years.

He had a hard time imagining Seymour killing anyone, yet at the same time, he could see it happening. His brother wouldn’t hesitate to hurt someone if it meant saving people, but that wasn’t what being a council assassin was about, which was why Lewis had been hesitant.

He wasn’t supposed to know that was what Seymour was training to do. He definitely wasn’t supposed to be here, at the training facility, poking around.

“They’re going to kill me, aren’t they?” he asked, wringing his fingers and wondering where he could hide. There were several buildings in the facility, but he suspected someone would find him wherever he hid. This was what these people were trained to do.

“No one is going to hurt you,” Seymour said as he rolled his eyes. “I just want you to meet my friends.”

“I could have met them in town.” He should have, if anything, because he wouldn’t feel like he should run for his life if he had.

Lewis wasn’t sure he wanted to meet a bunch of people who were training to kill. He knew why Seymour was doing it, and while he disagreed with the way Seymour was going about wanting to protect people, he got it. Between the two of them, Seymour had always been the protector, and he wanted to extend that to everyone, not only Lewis.

But what about the others? What if one or more of them were here because they just wanted to kill people? Lewis didn’t want to be their friend. He didn’t even want to be in the same room as them.

“I should go back,” he said, stopping in the middle of the path and turning around.

Seymour grabbed his arm. “You can go home if you want, but I promise that no one is going to hurt you. You’re my brother.”

“But I’m not supposed to know what’s going on here. Why did you tell me? I knew this was going to come back and bite me in the ass.”

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