I turned the wheel and spun my car around. It would take me a few hours to get back to council headquarters, but it was about damn time Sinclair and I had it out. I was tired of dancing around this thing between us.
It needed to end, one way or another.
I don’t know how long I had been driving when my phone rang again. I glanced briefly at the screen before looking back out the front window. I did not recognize the phone number.
I didn’t answer it.
When my phone rang again five minutes later, from the same number, I hit the connect button on my steering wheel. I didn’t say anything.
“Stone?”
I still didn’t say anything.
“This is Ion. I’m your new handler.”
“The hell you are!” I went from somewhat seething to full-out raging in one breath. “I have a handler.”
No matter how much Sinclair might not like it.
“Councilman Sinclair will no longer be handling the day to day operations. His new position on the council will take all of his attention. As such, he is reassigning all of his contractors to new handlers.”
I really didn’t like how much that made sense.
I also didn’t like how angry that made me. Sinclair wasmyhandler. I didn’t trust anyone else. In all the years we had been working together, Sinclair had never let me down. He was as good a handler as an assassin could have.
I didn’t want to give him up.
Ever.
“I have your first assignment for you,” Ion said. “I’ll be sending you the file along with my contact information. I might not be as good as Sinclair, but I will do everything I can to ensure you complete your assignment in one piece.”
I wanted to rant and rave and tell the guy to go to hell.
I didn’t.
“Send me the file.”
I hung up before the man could say more. I really didn’t have any interest in anything he had to say. I did have an interest, however, in finding the closest bar and getting so drunk I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face.
It wasn’t hard to find a bar. I was driving down a pretty busy thoroughfare. I pulled into the parking lot of the first one that didn’t look too haughty, but didn’t look like a dive bar either. I preferred my hard alcohol without bugs.
I grabbed my phone and my laptop bag before heading inside. I wanted to have a couple of drinks before I went over the file Ion was supposed to be sending me. I stopped at the bar counter and ordered a glass and their best bottle of whiskey. Once it arrived, I carried everything to a booth near the back of the bar.
I set my bag down on the seat and slid in. It took three glasses of whiskey before I was ready to pull out my laptop and look at the file Ion had sent me. I hated the fact that shifter metabolism burned off alcohol so quickly. I could use a good drunk right about now.
I pulled my laptop out of my bag and set it on the table. It was a good computer—personally built for me by Sinclair—so it didn’t take more than a moment or so to boot up. Once it was ready to go, I checked my e-mail.
I still didn’t like the fact that I had been handed off to another handler, but I had to admit the man was thorough. Not only was the original file in my e-mail, but Ion had added personal background on my mark, the guy’s social media links, and a detailed blueprint of his house and office.
I was surprised by Ion’s suggestion that I do something to the man’s car. I sometimes talked scenarios out with Sinclair, but he never suggested how to eliminate a mark. After reading through everything Ion had sent me, sabotaging the car might be an option. I’d have to do more reconnaissance before making a decision.
I shot a quick glance around the bar before typing in a web page link and then the password required to open the page. Sinclair was very good at what he did, but he was not the best. I had found the best and paid him a shit load of money to create a program for me that would be totally untraceable, even to Sinclair.
My heart beat a little faster when a live feed from Sinclair’s personal laptop came into view. If the man ever learned that I had installed the program and used it to watch him more often than I probably should have, he’d hire assassins to go after me himself.
I drew in a shaky breath when Sinclair’s face came into view. He looked tired. There were lines around his eyes that usually weren’t there and an ashen pallor to his skin that worried me.
He still looked good to me.
