Page 11 of Power of Shadow

“Don’t piss me off, Alex. You think you can just call Zoe and say things like that? You think you can mess with me? Provoke me? Use the Jackal as bait? You’re on thin ice.”

“Are you threatening me or promising a good time?” Even in that sentence, I can hear his amusement.

“I’ll kill you!” Loyally, I give him a warning.

“You didn’t save my life once just to kill me now.”

“Sometimes you only realize your mistake after the fact. You can always fix what you’ve fucked up.”

Trying to control my emotions, I blink several times. My eyelid twitches, showing how successful I am. Not.

But Alex is right. A long time ago, I saved that asshole’s life. I was sixteen at the time and a child raised on the streets. Before I reached that age, I was already a girl with many faces. To some, I was an elusive thief; to others, a source of whatever they needed. Lock-picking was easy for me, even with my eyes shut, and I engaged in illicit fighting at night. But on the day I met Alex, I took someone’s life for the first time.

The scene before me in a dim city alley caused me to halt. Between the garbage containers, four men had surrounded one guy in a tight circle. They circled around him like vultures, two of them with knives drawn, the third with a machete, and the fourth with brass knuckles glinting on his fingers.

Generally, I wouldn’t intervene and would simply continue with my life, keeping to myself. That day, my curiosity got the better of me.

Watching men fight already excited me back then.

The circle of vultures finally moved to attack the young man. I could see from a distance that he was older than me, maybe in his late twenties, but still young for a member of a motorcycle club. His leather jacket made that clear.

Maybe it was a matter between motorcycle gangs?

Quickly, the victim became the executioner, and the two attackers were already lying unconscious. The third man, wielding a machete, attacked.

The last one, the one with the brass knuckles, was shifting restlessly from foot to foot, and I knew. A moment later, he rushed past me like a ghost. In his escape, he didn’t even notice me. My gaze was fixed on his back when a dull thud reached me.

When I turned back, the man with the machete was lying on top of the other, trying to slit his throat.

Crouching, I picked up the knife one of the attackers must have dropped. I admired its polished surface and dark handle. And then...

Neither of them noticed me. It was only when I stood behind the bastard that the eyes of the twenty-something-year-old lying on the ground found me. I saw hatred and anger in them, which I’d often found in my own eyes. And determination sparkling in his brown irises.

For a moment, I saw in his eyes surprise and interest in who I was. Without taking my eyes off him, I put the knife to the machete lover’s throat and with one movement drew the blade from left to right.

It took very little effort. Cutting his throat. Blood immediately spurted over the prone man before he pushed his attacker off. Gurgling and choking sounds echoed around us. The distinctive coppery smell of blood. A few minutes and it was over. And me...

I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. No remorse. That’s when a completely different me was born.

The man I’d saved stood, though with effort. “I’m Alex,” he said.

I watched the blood trickling down his face.

Today, the scar on his cheek serves as a proud reminder of what happened.

Alex grunts. “I missed you, Princess.” His sensual voice brings me back to the present.

“Not me, not at all,” I say. My pulse calms down a little.

“Don’t be like that. You know how much you mean to me. If it were up to me—”

“Let’s get to the point,” I interrupt. “You have a job for me?”

“Yes, if you’re interested, of course. If not—” He’s trying to lure me in, but I know his tricks all too well.

“Don’t go there. Don’t even say his name.”

“You think I want to give this job to the Jackal? I’m on your side, and this rivalry between you two is getting old.”