Page 5 of Ivy and the Deathstalkers

Once in the house, I go to my bar and pour myself a double shot of Old Rip Van Winkle. This letter requires the good stuff.

Glass in hand I head to my office. Unlike the one outside, this office has my computer equipment and all of my files. I fire up my computer and log in. Clicking on the folder I need, I enter another password before the file on my parents’ murder is open. I’ve been working on it for years and I still don’t have the information I’m looking for. I know there’s more to their deaths. My parents were the best assassins I know. They wouldn’t godown easily. I can’t find evidence that a hit was put out on them, but there’s no doubt in my mind, the people responsible are professionals.

I pride myself on being resourceful and can normally dig up dirt buried so deep no one would know it even exists. The fact that I haven’t been able to find much of anything is extremely frustrating. What if the guild knows? The letter says they see and know all. Could they know what happened to my parents? Would they tell me if they did?

I spend hours going through every detail of my parents’ case with Kelly asleep on my shoulder until the early morning rays shine through my window. Finally, I give up, knowing I’m at an impasse. There’s nothing new to learn from the information I have. I need more. I need new intel.

Sighing, I push back my chair and stretch as I stand. Walking over to my painting of Adam taking the apple from Eve, I touch the center of the apple, causing the picture to move aside, revealing my safe. Placing my right hand on my scanner, my left eye slightly turned so the retinal scanner can verify me, I wait for it to open.

You can never be too safe in my line of business. Once open, I put the letter inside the safe alongside some of my prized possessions. My father's watch and my mother's dagger are amongst them. Then I lock everything back up and return the picture to its proper position.

I drop my glass off in the kitchen sink before climbing the stairs to the master bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind me. Once in my room, I deposit Kelly into her cage on my dresser then head for the shower wanting to wash the night off me before I collapse into bed.

The master bath is one of my absolute favorite things about this house. It has an Egyptian-style tub that could double as a small swimming pool, and there’s a glass skylight right over thetub so I can see the stars at night. A massive vanity with a large marble sink with a small mirror over the top and a full-length mirror beside it takes up the wall across from the tub. I take off my Jessica Rabbit wig and set it on the counter before turning to face temptation.

I love a long soak in my tub, but tonight calls for a quick shower. It would not do to fall asleep in the bath and drown. I’m a feared assassin. Death by drowning in a tub would be too embarrassing. I’d never live it down, even in the afterlife.

Walking over to the huge glass walk-in shower, I press the button to start my pre-programmed shower. Over a dozen nozzles come on at once, pelting me with hot water from all sides. My shoulders relax as the heat soaks in, loosening my muscles.

The shower shuts off and I only groan a little at the loss of hot water. I wring out my hair before grabbing my towel and drying off. Dropping my wet towel in the laundry hamper, I stride to my bed and throw the blankets back. Grabbing the black Egyptian cotton sheet, I slide in naked. I love the feel of my soft sheets against my skin. Despite the long night, and countless thoughts running through my head, it's not long before I'm fast asleep.

Chapter 5

Jax

“You fuckin know I hate these meetings. Why the fuck must I even attend?” I hate club meetings. Give me a job, send me out to do business. Anything but this shit.

I cross my arms over my chest and glare at my VP who dragged me to this stupid meeting.

DJ rolls his eyes and answers, “Because your Prez called a meeting and as a member of the cabinet you should be the first at the table.”

Why’s he gotta be all logical and shit? “Iknowthat,” I growl. “Doesn’t mean I can’t still bitch about it.”

“Give me thirty minutes and then I’ll release you to get your violence fix,” KC, also known as King, or Prez, chuckles as he passes me to take his seat at the head of the table.

I grumble under my breath until the other members start filtering in. Since they're entering now I have to behave. So I stand back and listen.

Thirty minutes later, I'm getting extremely restless. I can't help the huff and agitation as I start to shift continuously.Neo, the road captain, shifts through a couple people to stand shoulder to shoulder with me. He’s one of five people in this room who can soothe me when I get agitated.

“Good?” He raises one eyebrow as he looks at me.

I nod but say nothing. Finally, KC dismisses everyone, leaving me and my five brothers. We may not be blood, but the shit we've been through ties us together tighter than any blood-family ties ever could. They’re the only family I need.

“We finally have the information we need,” KC announces.

My head snaps up and I stare at him wide-eyed.He can't be saying what I think he is.“You found him?” I whisper, fearing if I say it any louder I'll wake up and this would have all been a dream. I have been dreaming of this moment for years so it's not out of the realm of possibility.

Becker, the club secretary, also known as Beck, pulls out a folder from his leather portfolio thing. Hell if I know or care what it's called. He grins like the cat that just got the canary and slides the folder to me.

Flipping through it, I don’t understand much of what I see. It’s page after page of and shorthand abbreviations that mean shit to me. I look up at my brothers as I flip another page. This one with a photo. “Ok… And what the hell does all this mean?”

“It means we finally know who started this mess. We know who had our parents killed. Stanley Shiftlan,” King taps the picture in front of me. “And as soon as Cree gets us his location, we’re letting you loose to capture him and bring him back so we can properly introduce ourselves,” King says, the twisted, creepy as fuck smile no doubt matching my own.

We’ve been looking for this fucker for almost twenty fucking years, but we’ve finally found him. Over the years, we managed to track down every assassin who personally had a hand in killing any deathstalker. After thorough interrogations, gaining a little more information about the mastermind behind the ploteach time, we ensured each of them received the ending they deserved.

Now the only person left is the one that started it all. The asshole who had the idea and then paid others to execute it. Stanley fucking Shiftlan.

“How soon?” I ask, itching to get on my bike and hunt this fucker down.

---