Heart of an Assassin (Circle of Spies Book 2)

by Laura Pauling

  “Hate to break it to you two, but…” Mom’s voice brought me back to reality.

  Laughter bubbled in my chest and I couldn’t help but giggle at the sweet hope of our future. But I had one more question. “Can we get my dad?”

  “You bet. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  “Mom?” I asked, reaching for her hand, asking her with just her name if she approved.

  She hugged me and whispered in my ear. “I trust you. Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

  Tears burned, fresh doubt rolling through my head. “What about your family?” I didn’t have to mention my true fear, that their son’s death would forever leave me the guilty party.

  “They’ll understand. He broke the code. Acted out of vengeance. They’ll be devastated but they won’t hold it against you, and if they do, then we’ll break contact and disappear. I’m with you.” The last part he spoke with great effort. He kissed the tip of my nose, his lips barely brushing my skin. “Forever.”

  “Okay, then. Let’s do this,” I said.

  Malcolm got serious. He adjusted the light to focus on the black box and the red switch. “On my word. Run like hell. Don’t stop. Got it?”

  I stared into the inky blackness and the possible potholes, twists and turns that lay ahead of us, that could trip us up and foil our plans. “Where does it lead?”

  He winked and kissed my head. “The future.” He handed me his headlamp and nodded toward the blackness of the tunnel. “You take off. I’ll be right behind.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked, not wanting to leave him behind.

  “I’m sure. I don’t want to take any chances.”

  I gave him a quick hug and Mom and I started down the tunnel. The dull light from the lamp flickered and wavered up and down as we ran. Seconds later, Malcolm yelled at us to run faster. He caught up and urged us on to our future, which lay just ahead.

  We rounded a corner and an explosion deafened our ears as the past month or so and all the memories it held blew to smithereens. We slowed down and paused, panting, looking back at our past.

  Malcolm leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Love you forever.”

  I kissed him, then whispered back, “Forever.”

  Thank you for reading!!

  Read about Marisa Bent, Savvy’s mother, and her secrets from the past in Vanishing Point.

  Download the exciting conclusion in Twist of Fate.

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  Thanks for taking this journey with me. I’m so grateful for all my readers. I appreciate you! If you enjoyed this book, I’d be so thankful if you posted a review on the retail sites. I also love to hear from readers. You can use the contact form at the top of my blog. laurapauling.com

  Again, here are the links to my other books. I hope you’ll check them out.

  A Spy Like Me

  Heart of an Assassin

  Vanishing Point

  Twist of Fate

  Prom Impossible (Free!)

  Prompossible Plans

  Covert Kissing

  Heist

  A Royal Heist (2015)

  Keep turning the figurative page to read the opening of Twist of Fate.

  Savvy and Malcolm take on separate missions until their paths cross in Prague and their love threatens both the missions and their lives.

  One

  Savvy

  No one, and I mean no one, can spend time with a family of assassins and not feel the effects.

  Not even me.

  After one last glance at the suspicious jogger behind me, I cut through a condominium development. Two toddlers cried when I darted through their backyard. A dad waved a shisk-a-bob spear at me, yelling not-so-nice words.

  “Sorry!” I called.

  But I wasn’t really sorry. They had their nice little life without the complications of being in hiding, without the fear of wondering if someone had a pistol aimed at their heart. Lately, every echo of a footstep behind me created a panicked fear that I was about to die. That government officials or the monks who had been bent on destroying my family and Malcolm’s had found us, found me.

  I wanted to turn back and tell them to appreciate the simpleness of their life even if it felt complicated with sleeping through business meetings or making crock-pot casseroles every night. Tell them not to take life and their family for granted.

  I kept running until I shot through the other side of the development. My legs ate up the pavement as I sprinted the last half mile to our hide-away house, running from the ominous feeling I’d had recently.

  The small ranch in front of me was Peyton’s vacation home. He was a friend of Malcolm’s family, who knew about their line of work. At least this hideout was in the States and not some shabby hole-in-a-wall in a country where I couldn’t speak the language, or a log cabin in Switzerland—not that I minded that one so much.

  I took one last long sweep of the area before entering the driveway. The cookie cutter homes in this development outside of Denver were perfect. We got lost in the myriads of people heading to work every day, the dads tossing balls in the yard with their kids, and neighbors just acting like normal people.

  Except my life was anything but.

  Even with my elevated sense of awareness, I missed the brown package propped against the front step—until I almost tripped over it. Normally, I’d just take it inside for Malcolm to inspect but a name caught my eye.

  Will.

  That was it. Just his first name scribbled in the upper left hand corner. No return address.

  I slumped to the step, clutching the package. As soon as I closed my eyes the images flashed, one after another. I couldn’t stop them. I never could. The grimace of pain and regret on Will’s face when I drove the blade up into his chest. The hiss of his last breath when it brushed my cheek. The way his eyes dazed off as life slipped away.

  My only justification was that at the same time Will’s hands were wrapped around my throat in an attempt to strangle me. Malcolm said it was okay. That I was completely justified in defending myself, that his family understood.

  I didn’t believe him.

  The worn fuzzy softness of the package against my fingers told me this brown envelope had taken a long journey to get here. It only took a few seconds for me to overcome any guilt and gently pry off the seal of the padded envelope. I mean, I was a spy, after all.

  I reached in and pulled out a cell phone. My fingers itched until I pressed power on, and seconds later Will’s face flashed on the screen. He stared at me with his famous smirk. His eyes pierced mine almost as if he were still alive and could see me. I sucked in a ragged breath.

  “He can’t hurt me,” I whispered over and over. “He can’t hurt me.”

  The only reason someone sends a phone to a family member is if something’s on the phone.

  Like secrets.

  I’d just peek later and then reseal it and put it back on the front steps. With confidence and the skill of one who’d been faking it for weeks, I opened the door and strode through the living room, the envelope behind my back.

  “Hey!” Malcolm said from the kitchen. “I was about to go after you.”

  “I’m fine. Just went a little longer today.” Total lie. “I’ll shower and be right out.”

  I crossed the living room and kitchen separated only by a breakfast bar. The enveloping darkness of the hallway hid my secret until I ducked into my bedroom. There was absolutely nothing wrong with what I was doing. Just checking out a suspicious delivery for the sake of everyone living here: Malcolm and my mom and dad. I tucked the package under my long-sleeved shirts in the closet before heading to the shower.

  Later, in the kitchen, I came up behind Malcolm and wrapped my arms around him, going through the motions, on automatic.

  “Hey, you.” He turned and flashed me his famous smile, a combination of I-love-you and I-want-to-make-sure-you’re-okay. A part of me wanted to melt into him, feel
his warmth, and talk about everything.

  Instead, I forced a grin. “Ready for another Master Mind face-off in which you will lose and I will be victorious?”

  He rubbed the sides of his head and groaned. “I don’t know if I can take the stress of competition.”

  I gently punched his shoulder. “I’ll go set up.”

  Peyton’s house was more like a vacation home, stacked with games I hadn’t played since I was a child. It didn’t take long to set up. Minutes later, we were locked in fierce competition.

  Malcolm nudged a plate of cookies in my direction. Ever since our first date in Paris, he knew of my addiction. But I was different now. My experience in Greece and living on the run for months had killed my sweet tooth, so when it came to any kind of sweet distraction, I couldn’t stomach it. I wanted to. Any pieces of my old life, like cupcakes or pastries, I wanted to grab onto and crush in a stranglehold.

  “Savvy?” Malcolm asked, waving his hand in front of me. “Earth to Savvy.”

  I pasted on a smile. “I was just delving into the dark recesses of your mind to find the code.”

  “What else am I thinking about then?” The right side of his mouth tugged up in flirtatious smile that got me every time.

  I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my chin like I was an old man playing chess in a park. “Hmm. You’re thinking about dinner because my parents should be back any second with take-out.”

  He shook his head no.

  “You’re wishing desperately we could make a run through Dairy Queen for a double chocolate shake.” Definitely an advantage of living in a country where I understood the language and the food.

  “Nope.” He tried not to break out in a smile and spill his secrets.

  I held up my hand. “Wait. Don’t tell me. If it’s not about ice cream, I know exactly what you’re thinking.”

  He leaned closer so the fake candlelight caught the charcoal flecks in his eyes. He waited patiently.

  I grinned. “Your parents called and said we don’t have to live in hiding anymore.”

  He pushed the game aside, not caring that it teetered at the edge then fell off the rickety table and beads rolled all over the floor, not caring that at all times we were supposed to keep as quiet as possible. He scooted his chair next to mine. “I wish, but no.”

  “Hmm.” I tapped my fingertips against my chin, aware of the close proximity of his lips to mine. “I give up.”

  “Let me give you a hint.” He placed his hands on either side of my face and pulled me in for a mind-blowing kiss.

  That butterfly feeling stirred in my stomach, so I kissed him back, hoping that maybe this time would be different. But no. Two seconds later, my body shut down, not letting me feel a thing. All too quickly, he pulled away. I hid my eyes, trying to conceal the truth. That I was numb on the inside, even when it came to Malcolm.

  “What?” I asked, distracting him. “You realized you hadn’t swept me off my feet in a few days.”

  “Well, that too, but not exactly.” He looked about to burst until he couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Fine. I’ll tell you. I’m wondering where we should go and what we should do when we’re not on the run.” He pecked my cheek. “For a real first date with no one shooting at us and no threat of danger.”

  I’d dreamed of a real date with Malcolm for months but that also brought up my second biggest fear after not living to see the end of each day. That if and when our lives returned to normal Malcolm would get bored. The challenge, the excitement would be gone.

  “Dinner and a movie?” I avoided his intense stare by cleaning up Master Mind.

  “Possibly. How about skydiving out of a plane?”

  I lifted my head up. “How about something that doesn’t include possible death?”

  “Right. Then I’ll take dinner and a movie, but at home. A whole night of snuggling without interruption.”

  His words warmed my heart. “Really? You’d be okay with hanging out on a couch watching a movie?”

  He tilted his head. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I guess that’s just a side of you I rarely see.” Oh, and the fact that he’d been trained to be an assassin his whole life might’ve had something to do with it.

  He placed a finger under my chin and forced me to look at him. “I can do normal.”

  I nodded and smiled. I didn’t think too much on the future. My biggest goal was to stay alive until we heard from his parents that no one was looking for us, and the investigation of the fire in Greece and the disaster at the monastery had been closed and filed away under cold cases.

  A commotion sounded outside the door. Our signal was three quick knocks but this sounded more like a herd of dogs fighting over a bone.

  We jumped into action. Malcolm grabbed the emergency gun strapped to his ankle at all times and motioned me to the back bedroom.

  “No way! I’m not leaving you!” I whispered.

  Two

  Malcolm

  God. She could be so damn stubborn.

  The banging sound repeated. I was about ready to hurdle the couch and drag her back to her bedroom. Instead, I glared, my eyes going from her to the hallway behind her. Finally, with a look of defeat, she crept to the bedroom.

  I wasn’t stupid. She’d hover by her doorway, waiting and ready to join the fight, if there was one. Why couldn’t she realize that we were all trying to protect her? She demanded to know every little detail of our conversations and possible future plans. What she didn’t realize was that no one knew what would happen tomorrow, never mind in a few weeks.

  The door opened. I tensed, ready to attack.

  Her parents breezed in with apologies and laughter. My shoulders relaxed. A sigh escaped as I tucked the gun away. I caught snippets of an excuse from her dad, something about tripping on the step. Savvy loved having him around, but he was clueless about so many things, even though he meant well.

  We had a good laugh. Mine was forced. I didn’t like surprises. I was in charge of all of them. Every day was a reminder that I could fail. Every day I felt the pressure. I needed to blow off some serious steam while Savvy hung out with her parents.

  Time to play with knives.

  As they chatted, I slipped outside. Late evening mist drifted through the yard. The tree roots sticking up through the ground dug into the bottom of my feet. I kept my body still, focused, determined. I brought my arm back and threw just as a squirrel rustled in the bushes.

  The knife whistled past my target and landed in the grass.

  Damn. I was off my game. I couldn’t let every little sound or movement distract me. Emotions should not affect my performance in the field. As punishment, I whipped around, dropped to the ground and completed fifty push-ups. Pine needles dug into my hands.

  After the last one, I rolled onto my back, taking in the first stars of the night. A cooler breeze wafted through the tiny yard. I sniffed, tensing. The heavy scent of body odor drifted by. I had a visitor.

  I continued with my training, pretending that I didn’t sense the presence of an enemy. A friendly neighbor would’ve spoken up by now, asking for help moving a table or couch. I’d feel much better with my knife. I sprinted to the end of the yard and back, my weapon safely in my grip.

  When I turned to focus on my target again, a dark shadow rushed from the surrounding bushes. I feinted to the right, allowing him to get in the first hit, letting him think he had the upper-hand.

  His meaty body bowled into mine. I hit the ground hard, breath shooting out. I rolled, expecting the kick to the gut. I grabbed his leg even as the expected pain shot through my stomach. With a quick twist and shove, he landed on his back.

  Back on my feet, I brought my knife to the ready. A steady flow of sideways slashes kept him at bay so I could observe. His blade gleamed. Dark hair hid his eyes. His stance, the way he held his weapon, told me this guy knew what he was doing. I crossed the monks off my list. They weren’t this good.

  As soon as I finished a
slash, he timed his jab perfectly. Right when I was vulnerable. Expecting it, I dodged his attempt. His blade sliced inches from my arm.

  I moved to a swift up and down movement, constantly rotating my body, in case he had a partner. Every downward motion, ended with my knife facing out, ready to jab in case of an attack.

  We played, a delicate game of who could one up the other one. Our grunts barely penetrated the falling darkness while laughter floated from the living room windows. A harsh reminder that I needed to get rid of this guy. What did he want? Who sent him?

  I’d had enough. I faked a jab and dropped my knife. I flipped and kicked. My foot landed on the side of his head. He stumbled back but recovered. I’d barely regained my balance when his leg swiped at my feet and caught my legs.

  I slammed into the ground a second time.

  A second later, he rolled me to my stomach, his knee in my back. He grabbed my hair and yanked my head upward. The cold blade of his steel kissed my neck. His heavily accented words fell over me.

  “You have kept us waiting too long.”

  How the hell was I supposed to know what he was talking about? The back door slammed. God. It was too dark. If Savvy was looking for me, she might not be ready for a fight.

  The man loosed his grip on my hair slightly. His knee lifted off my back. I could fight back, but I wanted to know what he wanted of me.

  “We will not wait much longer. You don’t want to mess with us.”

  Then he was gone. I rolled to see his back melting into the darkness. My chest heaved up and down, adrenaline racing through my veins. What the hell just happened?

  “You know, this might not be the best place to train with knives. Curious neighbors might wonder.”

  I jumped to my feet and crouched in a defensive pose. I relaxed. “Oh, hi, Marisa.”