I opened the door. The young cop’s head jerked up. “Hey—” he saw the jacket. “Oh, I thought all of you guys had left.”
I strode out. The key was projecting confidence. “I was just finishing up a few things. Hell of a scene.”
The man nodded. “I got a glimpse. Brutal.”
Behind him, Lark slipped out, silent as a wraith. She darted down the hall and into an apartment.
“Hopefully, we’ll find a clue to catch him.” I pulled out my phone. “I just got a message to check in the apartment across the hall. Apparently, there’s something that might be connected.”
The uniform waved a hand. “Sure thing.”
I strode to Lark’s door and opened it. She was waiting just inside.
“You’re good, Reaper,” she murmured.
“I know.” I closed the door.
As soon as I was inside, she dashed across the very empty apartment.
Taking in the sparse space, I frowned. I hated that she’d been staying here. With nothing. I took in the air mattress, the single duffel bag. There was no sign of Lark. No sign of her vibrant spirit.
She dug around in the bag, then clutched an iPad to her chest like it was a child. “I don’t think he came in here. If he did, he was very careful.”
No, he’d left a big enough message for her down the hall. Edgy energy filled me. I hated that she was in the crosshairs of some unknown sicko.
Every cell of my body was restless. I wanted a target.
Ineededto find out who this asshole was.
He wasn’t getting anywhere near Lark.
“Is this all of it?” I took the duffel from her hands.
She nodded. “I travel light.” She pulled a face. “I don’t have much stuff anyway.”
My jaw tightened. I knew she wouldn’t have made a home anywhere. Ed would have taught her all his infamous rules, including not collecting things or getting settled.
I’d been the same for years. Constantly moving, avoiding friendships, avoiding connections. I hadn’t bought anything sentimental, nothing that I couldn’t leave behind.
But one day, while I’d been on the job, something had changed.
My target had been the worst of the worst. There was nothing he hadn’t been involved in: drugs, human trafficking, arms dealing. Worse, he’d also been a sick and twisted pedophile.
He’d been the one in possession of the uncut diamonds. After I’d killed him, I’d held those gems in my hand, and in that moment, I knew I had my chance to change things. I’d been an assassin for over a decade. I’d started to feel numb, hollow, just going through the motions.
So, I’d faked my death and walked away.
I’d built the Avernus, made friends, collected more things than I really needed. I gave away money behind the scenes to help people. It was no one’s business but mine that I helped veterans, the homeless, foster kids, people escaping domestic violence.
But I also knew that there had always been something missing.
Some void inside me. Maybe I’d expected it would always be there.
But now, I realized that void was shaped like the small assassin standing in front of me.
Damn.
It was a hell of a time to realize that Lark Smith was mine. Not just for a little while, for always.
