They exchanged kicks and blows, neither gaining the upper hand. Mitch sought control despite his feelings of betrayal. Regardless of Mitch’s safeguards, his family thought him weak. They’d learn otherwise soon enough. First, he had to kill this fool. Like all Murtair, Mitch’s opponent was trained. But he was sloppy, too. Clearly not someone high in the ranks. An Uile-bheist would eat him for a snack and then use his bones to pick his teeth.
Mitch slipped under the overconfident fool’s guard and slashed along his ribs. The Murtair danced back and gasped as he touched his side and gaped at the blood there.
“Neach-brathaidh!” he snarled and came at Mitch in a fury. Mitch defended and then dropped to his knees as the guy overbalanced and stabbed upwards. He jabbed deep into the Murtair’s stomach and knew it was over. It was a matter of mere moments. But the Murtair refused to give in gracefully.
The fool yanked a gun from his waistband and aimed it. Mitch was moving before the shot fired off, but it went wide. He shook his head as the Murtair dropped to his knees, holding his gut.
“You brought a gun to a knife fight and didn’t use it?” Mitch said in disbelief. “Like all your kind, you’re overconfident and cruel. The urge to torture drives your idiotic choices. You should have pulled that and shot me at point-blank range. A mistake you’ll never get a chance to rectify.”
The Murtair dropped to the ground face-first, and Mitch rolled him over, looking for identification. He wanted to know who’d sent him. He yanked up the guy’s jacket cuff and saw the tattoo there. The mark that declared him Sealgair Uilebheist, and above it was the symbol for Murtair. Mitch patted him down and found a bankroll of notes and a phone. He used the dead Murtair’s thumb to unlock it and discovered his picture on it with his home address.
There was a text which was signed simply with the surnameWeideman.
Mitch’s family.
They’d sent a Sealgair Uilebheist assassin after him and made the ultimate mistake. Now they’d pay. Mitch heard a gasp, looked up, and his stomach clenched as his heart sank when he saw Jess standing there, wide-eyed. Her gaze was focused firmly on them, and there was horror on her face.
“Jess, I can explain!” Mitch gasped, dropping the dead Murtair’s wrist. Jess’s terrified eyes followed the motion, and they narrowed on the body.
“I don’t think… I can’t…” Jess turned and fled.
Mitch wanted to chase her, but he needed to call Diar and deal with this mess.
Shit. He yanked his phone out and punched in Diar’s number. Frustrated, Mitch rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. He’d sort this out; he had to. He wasn’t prepared to lose Jess now.
Jess/Loch Ness Monster
That had been a Hunter. She’d seen and recognised the tattoo on his wrist. A Hunter had located her and attacked Mitch. Jess needed to get out of there and regroup because where there was one, there were always more.
She headed for the toilets in the hotel bar, eschewing her room behind, and checked they were empty. As soon as they were, she called out to Mary and fled through the mirror.
“What happened?” Mary Worth demanded as Jess appeared.
“A Hunter. He attacked Mitch, and Mitch killed him. I’d no choice; I had to leave. You know they come in packs.”
“Okay, so first is damage containment. I’ve put a call in for Liadun; she’ll be his legal representation,” Mary said.
“No need. He’s a billionaire, he’ll probably have a pack of lawyers on hand,” Jess replied as her hands shook. “I can’t go back out there; clearly, my human side is known, Mary.”
“Let’s just wait. The Hunter might not have been there for you.”
“A Hunter in the vicinity of one of us? And not hunting us? What are the odds? Can you bring Mitch up and check he’s okay? I feel awful leaving him, but I didn’t have a choice. Disease is already riled,” Jess begged. She wrung her hands together as Mary turned to the mirror network.
“Show me Mitch McQuoid,” Mary ordered. The mirrors flickered and stuttered, and Mary frowned. That hadn’t happened before. “Mitch McQuoid.”
After a few more seconds, the scene opened with Mitch driving a car, a shadow sitting beside him.
“He’s not locked up,” Mary muttered.
“What’s he doing?” Jess asked, confused. Her tears, which had been threatening, now receded, and puzzlement took their place. Mary swapped views to a side mirror.
“Who’s that?” she demanded.
“His friend Diarmad. Oh God! I bet they’re getting rid of the Hunter!” Jess exclaimed.
“A rich billionaire doing body disposal?” Mary sounded disbelieving.
“It’s been only twenty minutes. Why else would Mitch be driving somewhere? Unless he’s heading to the airport and running away?” Jess said.
