Page 5 of Tabitha

Swallowing hard, I push open the door and enter the office.

I’m not exactly afraid of Man, more worried that I’ll disappoint him. He isn’t a father figure to me, never once tried to take my old man’s place, possibly understanding that I hated the fucker with all the passion a five-year-old could muster.

No, he was something more.

A mentor.

A friend.

The man who chased away the monsters and showed me how to fight them on my own.

I owe him everything.

“Good morning, Miss Tabitha. Please have a seat.” The man behind the desk slowly turns his fancy leather chair to face me, and I nearly sag in relief when I see the dossier folder in his hand.

A job.

I’m not put off by his formal tone. He uses it as a term of affection and respect, a nod to my Southern background, probably a way to comfort me when he took me away from my old life.

“Morning, Mr. Man.” I come to a stop in front of his desk, my hands behind my back, falling into the military formation that my dear old dad beat into me.

“Sit.” He nods to the chair next to me.

I hesitate, not used to being so casual in front of him, but I can’t resist the direct order. Once I’m seated, he pushes the folder across the desk. “I have a mission for you.”

When I would’ve picked up the folder, he keeps his hand on it, and my gaze snaps up to land on his usually neutral face. I’d swear that he almost looks…concerned.

“This mission is different, and I wouldn’t normally send you.” He taps the folder, then leans back, a troubled expression on his face.

Man is intimidating as hell, his features sharp, his blue eyes hawkish in his weathered face. The sharp intelligence in his eyes denotes years of undercover work. His gray hair and beard should make him look like a comforting grandfather, but he oozes a lethal menace that says he could kill you with a competency that ensures he will never get caught.

I pick up the folder like it contains a bomb and slowly open it.

My breath catches, my whole body chilled to the bone…because he is sending me home to Tennessee.

I’ve done my best to eradicate my upbringing, even going so far as to forget about it during my waking hours, but nighttime is a different story. At night, my monsters come alive in my dreams, which is why I find myself in my workshop most evenings.

“About a year ago, a small militia town was taken over by a mercenary group consisting of former military men. Their crimes have been investigated, but—”

“They don’t want the criminals arrested and the publicity of a trial,” I murmur as I flip through the pages, memorizing the statistics and odd facts about the town and its people.

“The targets are a group of ex-military men who call themselves Legion.” Man drums his fingers against the desk, uncharacteristically agitated. “This is not an official mission. We were contacted by an old friend requesting a favor. With your past, while you might be the best suited for the job, you have every right to turn it down. I actually urge you to reject it. I don’t feel comfortable sending you off alone.”

My instincts scream at me to keep my past locked tightly in a neat little box and not open it. Just the thought of taking a peek makes me want to rock in some dark corner, and I break out into a cold sweat.

I page through the dossier, ignoring the pictures of the men, reading the list of crimes attributed to them. It’s a massive list. Running guns. Drug dealing. Money laundering. Trafficking. Arson. Murder.

You name it, they’ve done it.

When I glance at the bios, my gut curdles in disgust. Ex-military. Each one dishonorably discharged for conduct unbecoming an officer. Man even managed to get ahold of the military records, and my lips curl back in a snarl. “How did they ever pass the psych exams?”

Going rogue. Torture. Unsanctioned killing. Assault and rape.

The list goes on and on.

Though Man only frowns, a deep rage darkens his eyes. “I can only conclude that they’re very skilled at keeping their monsters secret, but like all evil, it will bleed through eventually.”

I finally look at the pictures of the targets.

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