Never Miss

by Melissa Koslin

  “You’re not an assassin, Kadance.”

  She stayed turned away, ignored him.

  The door to the roof opened.

  She turned to face Lyndon. “Don’t talk to him. Don’t even make eye contact. I told them you’re just some scientist helping me. You’re not important to them. You need to stay that way.”

  He felt his body tighten in frustration, in preparation. “I don’t need you to shield me from them.”

  “Just do what I say. They won’t think twice about killing you.” Then her mask of deadness slipped. “Please, Lyndon.” He couldn’t quite identify the emotion on her face before she turned away.

  A young man walked toward them. His boots clomped across the roof’s tar and asphalt surface. He wore jeans and a military-style jacket zipped up. “Hey, cuz.”

  She didn’t acknowledge him.

  “Been a long time,” he said.

  “Not long enough,” she said but still didn’t look at him.

  “You’ll be happier when you come back home. You gotta be sick of living on the road.”

  Mac walked over and stood next to Kadance. He stared at her cousin, and the fur on his back stood up.

  “What’s that?” her cousin asked.

  She didn’t answer.

  The cousin walked over and leaned casually against the HVAC unit closest to her.

  Lyndon analyzed the young man. He had a strong build, though Lyndon was taller, and based on how he used his right hand to scratch his chin, Lyndon deduced he was right-hand dominant. Lyndon assumed the entire family was skilled at hand-to-hand as well, not just shooting. Lyndon watched for any sign of weakness he could exploit.

  Kadance set up at the corner of the parapet wall and watched through her scope. She was silent and still, and her cousin jabbered on occasionally. He didn’t seem to care about her lack of responsiveness. He glanced over at Lyndon every so often but never addressed him.

  Lyndon hunched a bit, kept fiddling with his glasses, and didn’t make eye contact or speak—all in an attempt to appear as weak as possible, not a threat. While watching and analyzing everything the cousin did and said.

  They waited for hours. They didn’t know when the man would enter the building, so they’d set up well in advance.

  The cousin sighed, apparently bored.

  Kadance’s posture changed slightly. Lyndon knew she’d spotted her target.

  She pressed a button on her phone, and it rang on speakerphone.

  “Yes” came a male voice.

  “He’s approaching the entrance closest to me.”

  “Taking the shot?”

  “Surrounded by bystanders. Almost there.”

  Lyndon looked over the parapet, but it was much too far away to see without Kadance’s high-powered scope. He watched her instead. She was perfectly still, controlling her breathing, focused. Her beauty juxtaposed sublimely with her intensity and perfect control.

  “I see him. I can take it,” the voice on the phone said, surely her father.

  “No. I have him.”

  “I’m closer. I can take him.”

  “I have it. Just verify the hit and monitor the crowd.”

  “I’m getting a text from Redan. That FBI agent you warned us about is approaching from the west.”

  “Target his leg.”

  “He has a clear shot for a kill.”

  “No. The leg. He needs to be questioned.”

  “Copy.”

  A few seconds later, she said, “Clear.” She took half a second and then squeezed the trigger and fired.

  She pulled her rifle back from the edge of the parapet and said into the phone. “Verify.”

  “Your target is down. You hit his thigh. He dropped his bag.”

  “Redan’s target?”

  A pause. “Down.”

  “Alive?”

  “Yes. How about the designated survivors?”

  She looked at her phone and waited. Two texts dinged, one after the other, surely her other cousins reporting in. “We’re clear,” she said.

  Her cousin hopped down from the HVAC unit he was sitting on. “Time to go.”

  Lyndon stood between him and Kadance. “She stays.”

  thirty-six

  KADANCE’S COUSIN LOOKED at her around Lyndon. “What’s this about?”

  Lyndon could see in the cousin’s face that he’d succeeded in making the cousin think he was weak.

  “Lyndon.” Kadance’s voice was calm, not as gentle as she’d spoken to him in the past, but not so cold and dead.

  Lyndon stayed where he was and stared down the cousin.

  The cousin laughed.

  Lyndon slammed a punch across the cousin’s jaw. If he could take down the cousin before the rest of the family made it from their perches up here, maybe he could get Kadance out. If she cooperated, which felt like a big if right now.

  The cousin stumbled to the side and looked at Lyndon in shock.

  Lyndon took advantage of the cousin’s lack of balance and swept his leg. The cousin fell to the rooftop with a thud. He scrambled to get up, but Lyndon kicked his ribs and the cousin fell back to the roof and cursed.

  “She’s not going with you,” Lyndon growled and punched the cousin square in the face. His head thudded back down against the dark, grainy surface of the roof, and he stopped moving.

  Lyndon stood and faced Kadance. “Let’s go.”

  “Why did you do that?” He couldn’t tell if she was angry or shocked.

  “You know exactly why. Please, let’s go.”

  She stared at him. “I can’t.”

  “If you run now, you can get out before the rest make it here.” He moved closer. “I’m not asking anything other than for you to stay safe. I know you don’t want me. That’s okay. But please run.”

  At the sound of footsteps on the concrete steps up to the roof access, Lyndon turned. Several men walked through the door onto the roof. They must’ve been prepared to get here quickly. He turned to face them and analyzed as quickly as he could. The man in the lead was likely her father. He had short dark hair, and Lyndon could see just a little of him in Kadance, something in the brow and jaw. He held a 9 mm Glock in his right hand. To his right, Lyndon’s left, was a bulkier man but with similar features, perhaps his brother, Kadance’s uncle. And behind them were five young men. Surely more cousins. No one else appeared to be armed, but they all held themselves as if prepared for a fight.

  The cousin Lyndon had already taken down was lying on the ground behind an HVAC unit, not visible from the door.

  “Just like the good old days,” Kadance’s father said as he approached.

  Behind Lyndon, Kadance didn’t respond.

  Lyndon waited until they were just a few feet away. He shifted so he could come at her father at just the right angle, and then he lunged. He threw a fist, but it mostly glanced off his jaw. With the same fist, he landed a solid kidney shot, and her father stumbled.

  Lyndon slammed an elbow at his temple and reached for the gun. He had his wrist and raked the gun back to break his grip.

  But then someone grabbed him from behind.

  “Lyndon, stop.” It was Kadance’s voice.

  Lyndon didn’t have a choice. Three of the cousins grabbed him.

  Her father walked up to him while massaging his jaw. “Apparently, you’re not the geek everyone seems to think you are.”

  “You’re not taking her,” Lyndon growled.

  Her father raised his brows and then looked over at Kadance. “Got yourself a would-be bodyguard, huh? Adorable.” He turned back to Lyndon. “Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”

  Lyndon struggled to get free. He managed to get an arm loose and swung a hammer fist at one of the men holding him. He made contact and heard a curse. Another set of hands grabbed him.

  Her father raised a brow. “Not bad.” Then he looked at Lyndon more carefully and smiled.

  He glanced over at Kadance—Lyndon couldn’t see her with her cousins i
n the way. Then her father turned back to Lyndon, still smiling. “You wouldn’t be so excited to fight for her if you knew the whole story.”

  Lyndon struggled. “What story? That you’ve abused her all her life?”

  “Abuse? Is that what you think? I’ve made her into what she is—the most skilled sniper in history. Do you have any idea what she just did? That shot was 3,500 meters away. No one else in the world could’ve pulled off that shot.”

  “That doesn’t excuse what you’ve done to her.”

  Kadance walked over, into Lyndon’s line of sight. She spoke to her father. “It’s over. Let’s go before they lock down the city.”

  Her father glanced at her and then back to Lyndon. “I think he needs an education first.”

  “No.” Her voice was hard, a command.

  Her father continued to look at Lyndon.

  “He’s just a scientist,” Kadance said. “Of no importance. Not worth the effort.”

  Lyndon side-kicked the knee of the man to his right. The man fell and cursed. Lyndon used the same leg to throw a thrusting front kick at her father. His foot made contact with his hip, and her father fell back a couple of steps. Lyndon tried to break an arm free, but another young man grabbed him, in a better grip.

  Her father stepped back up to Lyndon, in his face.

  Lyndon stared back at him.

  “I think you need to know the story.”

  “You’re not taking her,” Lyndon growled.

  “What was her name? Angela, was it?”

  Lyndon didn’t respond. He didn’t understand.

  “Yeah,” her father said. “Angela. That was it. Ever wonder how she really died?”

  Kadance stepped forward. “No.”

  Mac growled.

  “It was a hit,” her father said. “One of the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Perfect. But, you’re probably thinking, there was no forced entry into her dorm room. You’re correct. It was a sniper.” He paused. “The most talented sniper in history.”

  Everything clicked together in Lyndon’s head.

  He looked at Kadance. She’d closed her eyes in defeat. Then she looked up at Lyndon, and for once, he was able to read an expression, the emotion behind it.

  Regret.

  The assassination her family had tricked her into doing—it was Angela. The mastermind had hired her family to do the job.

  Her father stepped back with a smirk on his face. He started toward the door.

  Kadance moved closer to Lyndon and barely murmured, “I’m sorry.” She paused. “Please take care of Mac.” She turned and followed her father.

  Mac started after her, but she held her hand up and said, “Stay.”

  He stopped moving but stared after her.

  Her father had handed his Glock off to one of the young men, and that man now held it to Lyndon’s head, with his finger squeezing the trigger. Everyone else headed for the door. They disappeared down the stairs.

  After a couple of minutes, the cousin with the gun stepped back, gun still aimed.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Lyndon noticed Mac move closer to the young man. Then Mac lunged, dug his claws and teeth into the man’s leg.

  The young man cursed and tried to shake Mac off. Mac dug in deeper and growled.

  Lyndon grabbed his wrist, holding the gun away from himself and Mac, and punched him in the face. Blood gushed from his nose.

  “Release,” Lyndon said to Mac, hoping he would understand.

  Mac let go and backed up, and Lyndon raked the gun back out of the man’s grip and then aimed it at him. He didn’t want to shoot anyone, but he needed to make sure he wouldn’t follow.

  Lyndon kicked the man’s leg, which started to buckle, and then Lyndon slammed the butt of the gun across his jaw. He landed with a thud on the roof, unconscious.

  Lyndon ran to the door. “Mac, come,” he called over his shoulder.

  Mac sprinted forward and made it to the door before Lyndon.

  While they rushed down the stairs, Lyndon tucked the gun into his waistband under his jacket. They ran out onto the sidewalk, and Lyndon looked up and down the road.

  A large passenger van was driving away.

  Lyndon bolted after it, and Mac followed.

  “Kadance!” Lyndon roared.

  He pushed himself as fast as he could go, but the van picked up speed. He prayed for a traffic light to turn red. Though he had no idea how he could possibly get her away from them if he did somehow manage to catch up. It didn’t matter—he had to try.

  “Kadance!”

  The next light turned green, and the van sped up even more.

  He realized it was pointless to try to catch them on foot. He turned and ran back toward where her car was parked. She’d given him the key that morning.

  But they’d parked several blocks away.

  Finally, he got in the driver’s seat, and Mac jumped up, across his lap, and onto the passenger seat. Lyndon started the car, and the tires spun when he hit the gas. He headed back to where he’d last seen the van. There was no sign of them. He drove in the direction of the nearest airport, hoping he’d come across them.

  Nothing.

  He finally pulled off into a parking lot and punched the steering wheel.

  KADANCE GLANCED OUT the back window of the van. Lyndon, along with Mac, was running after them. He yelled her name. It didn’t make sense—didn’t he understand what her father had told him?

  Of course he did—she’d seen in his eyes when it all came clear. He was simply too kind to let her be taken without a fight. But he’d get over that soon enough.

  She turned back around and did what she’d practiced her whole life—deadened her expression so much that the deadness started to seep into her skin, her brain, her chest.

  She didn’t let herself look back out the window again.

  thirty-seven

  KADANCE HAD HANDED her phone to her father as they’d boarded the private plane one of his contacts had let him use. She’d known he’d take the phone anyway. She couldn’t look up websites, but she was able to watch the news on the TV in her room to see that they’d succeeded in stopping the attack on the State of the Union. The bag the “fire system technician” had been carrying was described as having “unknown contents,” which told her someone had recognized what the virus was, and it was being kept quiet so as not to cause panic. They also reported that an FBI agent had been arrested in connection with the incident, and both the FBI and Homeland Security were continuing to investigate. Kadance was thankful her actions hadn’t been for nothing.

  She sat at the desk in her old bedroom and watched the TV on the dresser. As soon as she’d been dumped in this room, she’d focused on the news, but her focus was harder to control the longer she sat here.

  There was a knock on the door and it opened.

  Her father walked in and set a plate in front of her. “Your favorite.”

  She could smell the pepperoni on the sandwich, but she wasn’t hungry. She continued to stare at the little TV.

  “We’re headed to the range,” he said. “You should come along.”

  “No, thank you.” The range, as they called it, was simply a stretch of flat desert in the middle of the family land. They set up targets at various distances and tested themselves, tried to outdo each other.

  “Come on,” he said. “You love the range. You can destroy your cousins’ best shots like you used to.”

  “No, thank you,” she said again.

  “You can’t just sit here forever.”

  He kept the door locked from the outside. She didn’t have a lot of choices but to sit here. She didn’t respond.

  “You’re barely eating,” he said. “At least get some fresh air.”

  She finally moved her gaze from the TV to him. “You’re not going to wear me down.” Her tone wasn’t harsh, just kind of nothing.

  “You love shooting. You always have. You shouldn’t give up something you love so much.”

  �
�What you do is wrong. I won’t be a part of it.” She did love shooting, but not what they did with it.

  “I’m just talking about the range.”

  “I understand exactly what you’re talking about.” She turned back to the TV, a commercial for a grocery store.

  He turned to leave but paused at the door. “At least eat.” He walked out and closed the door, and she heard the lock click.

  She continued to stare at the TV and desperately tried not to think.

  But so many things kept invading her mind.

  How Lyndon had fought for her. How he’d charged after the van, even after he knew how she’d murdered Angela. She’d never seen kindness like that—not just kind on the surface, but when it was hard.

  And Mac—she hadn’t realized how much she would miss him. She’d never had a pet before, but then, he wasn’t just a pet. He’d been her friend when she most needed one. That was part of why she’d left him with Lyndon. She could never make right what she’d done, but she could give Lyndon the best friend he could ever want. The other reason she’d left Mac was because she knew her father would use him against her if she’d tried to bring him. She didn’t want to imagine what he might’ve done to him.

  She tried to focus on the TV. One of the news hosts was interviewing someone in a suit. She couldn’t pay enough attention to figure out who he was.

  The backs of her eyes pricked.

  Get it together, she told herself. She’d made her decisions knowing exactly the outcome, that her life was essentially over. And she didn’t regret it. She’d done what Lyndon would’ve done. The right thing.

  But she still hurt.

  She’d never felt pain quite like this before. She’d learned to mentally step back from physical pain. This was different. She couldn’t step back from it. The pain was so deep it felt like it was woven into her DNA. She tried to accept that it was just a part of who she was now.

  Lyndon had changed her, and there was no going back. And she didn’t want to go back. No matter how much this hurt, she was thankful. Thankful to have had Mac for as long as she did. Thankful she could give him a new home with Lyndon, a much better home than she could give him. Thankful to have met Lyndon, even to have fallen in love with him. She’d never known love before, and even though she felt like the pain might destroy her, she was thankful to have learned what love really was.