Page 5 of The Wraith & Her Killer

I read over the emails again and again, checking to make sure I didn’t miss any attachments or additional information, but there’s nothing. I reject the deposit request but accept the contract. Only once a contract to kill is accepted do I receive the coordinates for the mark.

It’s time to find out who Ois. I have half a mind to strangle her just for interrupting my orgasm and putting off my sleep schedule. If she’s guilty? Well, I just may take my time with tearing her apart piece by piece before plunging an arrow right through her fucking heart.

——

Goddamnit, I am havingzerofun right now. The person who put the hit out on this girl is making everything entirely too easy for me and it’s only serving to piss me off and coil me up tighter.

I tried to run a search on the way here for any women whose names start with Othat fit her age within a hundred-mile radius, but it proved fruitless. Well. Fuck a duck.

The gate to the mansion was left slightly ajar, but I opted to park out of sight down the road and trek through the woods like the good little stalker slash serial killer I am. I didn’t have time to clean off my gear so my mask and hoodie are still covered in spatters of Joe’s blood.

I catch my reflection in the glass of the sliding back door of the mansion and tilt my head, grinning at the macabre sight of my outfit. I am what society would call a “neat freak” if they were to see my habits. Emphasis on thefreak,I guess. I like to know where my shit is at all times and I like it clean. Unless I’m killing. Make that shit messy, please.

But having a clean presence means less chance of leaving DNA or evidence of my presence behind. I also never really cared for leavingan impression on my targets, but I have to admit that the bloody look does add quite a bit of a sinister vibe.

It’s hard to actuallybesinister when the door is left unlocked.

With a heavy, annoyed sigh, I shove it open aggressively, almostwantingit to crash into a wall. Iwantto scare the woman into running and giving me the chase my body craves. But alas, it opens quietly. A mechanism in the track stops it from slamming and it slows until it mechanically latches itself open.

Fucking rich people spoiling my fun with their high tech.

Instructions were vague as fuck so I’m literally operating blind to find this girl. I make quick work of checking each room on the main level before reaching into my bag and grabbing a handful of zip ties from the front pocket as I trek up to the second floor. The urge to slaughter something only grows because this level is empty as well. Every single room is either barren or untouched without a single hint of a feminine touch.

Where the fuck are you?

I’m starting to suspect that I walked right into a trap when I spot a second staircase that leads up to a third and final floor. I swear to fuck, she better be up here or I’m going to burn this house to the ground and piss on the ashes. First two rooms are empty. I’m about to turn around in search of gasoline to light this bitch when I catch the faint, warm scent of coconut coming from one of the other two rooms ahead of me. Following my instincts, I check the door on the left. It’s silent on its hinges as I push it open. The room is cloaked in darkness but the heady scent damn near slaps me in the face.

Bingo.

3

Ican barely make out her sleeping form on the other side of the room. She’s got blackout curtains drawn, so I can’t see shit. Feeling my way across the floor, I make it to the edge of the bed without a sound. I set my bag down and get to work. I don’t give a fuck if she screams and I want to question her, so I forgo the tape and snatch her wrists from where they were tucked from under her face. The zip ties easily loop over her hands and I cinch them tight before forcing her arms above her head, securing them to the iron bars of her headboard. I expect her to scream, to cry, to fight, or even curse me. But the only thing I get from her is a soft gasp that almost sounds like a sigh of relief.

Weird, but whatever.

Not wanting to waste any time, I straddle her thighs and pull an arrow from the quiver strapped to my back. I hold the point flush to her chest, letting it press in hard enough to try and startle her. I know she’s awake from the way her breaths saw in and out of her chest, but she doesn’t fight me. She doesn’t scream. It’s nearly pitch-black in the room, but I can feel her eyes on me like a physical touch.

Taking her throat in my hand, I squeeze until I’m almost cutting off her airway, keeping her right on the edge of consciousness. Again, she doesn’t resist or push back against my hold. She doesn’t fight her restraints. I don’t get a single damn reaction from her.Alrighty then.Bending down closer to her face, I hold myself inches away as I speak in a low tone.

“Do you know why I’m here?” I question, and she barely manages to nod her head once in my hold, but I feel it.Progress, I guess. I tilt my head in question, even though she can’t see me. “And what is it that you’ve done to earn this?” I press the tip a little harder against her skin until I feel it break, the coppery tang of her blood mixing with the coconut aroma that floods the room.

She says nothing. Doesn’t even react. Actually, no. Scratch that. Sheisreacting, but not the way I’m expecting. This girl doesn’t even fight to get away from the sharp sting of my arrow. No, the crazy bitch bucks up against my hold, like she’stryingto impale herself before I can get my answers.

I don’t fucking think so.

Pulling the arrow away, I toss it to the side and reach out, feeling blindly until I find a lamp and flip it on. Something isn’t right if she’s this eager to meet the wrong end of my arrow. I’m more than ready to watch as the light fades from her eyes, but onlyafterI siphon the information I want out of her.Notbefore.

The room illuminates around me, and it’s not what I expect from a spoiled rich girl living in a mansion like this. Don’t get me wrong, it’s filled with expensive furniture, but the entire space looks sterile. White on white on fucking white. There’s absolutely no feminine touch to this room whatsoever.

Red flag number one.

Then I look down at the woman beneath me and?—

What in the actual fuck?

It’s…her.

Odessa Kuznetsov.

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