Page 31 of Pretty Little Assassin

Alley Cat glances at Viktor out of the corner of her eye without fully turning her head. “I like him. Reminds me of a big gorilla. Gorillas are useful.”

A second message notification. This one I don’t read aloud.

“More intel?”

“Nah, nothing to get your hard drive in a meltdown over, just a reminder to stay focused.”

Donnie wrinkles his nose at me, slightly annoyed.

“I’m always focused. And my hard drive wouldn’t be caught dead melting.”

Alley Cat giggles at him and roots around for an energy drink can that isn’t already empty.

I stick my phone back into my pocket.

It’s not that I want to keep anything from Donnie, Zero, or even Alley Cat. On the contrary, these three orbit around me the way only real family can.

That said, some things are better left undisclosed.

Viktor gets up from the couch and stands beside me, looking over my shoulder at Donnie’s computer screen as we try to put the moving pieces in place for this gala sting operation.

His scent is becoming a problem. Usually, I don’t give alphas’ scents a second thought. I’m around them so much that I can tune them out for the most part. Occasionally, an exceptionally pungent one makes me feel like I need to wash my nostrils out with turpentine.

But Viktor’s scent is different. Intense, but not in a bad way. Distinct.

He smells like leather and Siberian pine. Cold, sharp, and dangerous. There’s a hint of black pepper there too, something unpredictable and able to get up in your nose before you realize that you’ve already been compromised. He smells like cold murder.

And it’s surprisingly not repulsive.

Viktor fucking Petrov wears violence well.

“Hey, I heard you can wait motionless for eighteen hours for the perfect shot,” Donnie asks. “Is that true?”

“Focus on what you’re doing, for fuck’s sake,” Zero scolds him.

“What? I want to know.” Donnie persists by turning his chair around and facing Viktor dead on. “And can you really track a target across continents without losing the trail? Can you identify a person’s weakness within minutes of meeting them?”

Zero gently smacks the back of Donnie’s head, and Alley Cat giggles from the sofa.

While everyone is busy doing intel and involuntary team-building, my thoughts drift back toward the message from Madam that is currently burning a hole in my pocket.

COMPLETE THE CONTRACT ON VIKTOR PETROV.

HE’S A LIABILITY.

YOU CANNOT TRUST HIM.

11

VIKTOR

“How are you such a good cook?” Valentina asks as I set a plate of Stroganoff on the table in front of her.

“Necessity,” I say. “A man who spends enough years alone either learns to cook or learns to tolerate bad food.”

Shared space has never been my thing. Shared anything has never been my thing. But here I am cooking for her, and there is one bathroom, one kitchen, and…one bed. The table came with two chairs, or she’d be sitting on my lap right now. I push that thought away even as my alpha senses linger on it.

She’d probably claw my eyes out if I tried. Well, she could try. And thinking about that — and what might happen after—I look at the food and empty my face of expression.