Burning for an Assassin

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Burning for an Assassin Page 3

by Serenity Snow


  Sabrina nipped Veda’s bottom lip and then backed off. “Veda,” she growled. “You’re so—oh fuck. I’ve got to get out of here.” She stepped back and shoved the dildo into her pants.

  “What did I do? Was I not satisfying?” She cringed at the needy sound of her own voice.

  Sabrina shook her head and pointed at her as Veda took a step toward her. “Uh-uh, baby. No. Don’t even come any closer. I cannot do this.” She bolted from the room.

  Tears filled Veda’s eyes and rolled down onto her cheeks hot and salty. “At least she didn’t tell you what a fat pig you are,” she muttered and crumpled to the floor fighting the urge to dress and head for the nearest restaurant.

  Nothing ever soothed her like a good meal and lots of dessert—ice cream and cake.

  She brushed away the tears and dragged herself back to her feet heading to the bathroom. “I am hungry,” she told herself. “I haven’t had dinner.”

  In the bathroom the lights came on as soon as she entered, and she stared at her still lust-drunk eyes, the arousal in them competing with the pain of rejection. She wrapped her arms around herself holding tight.

  “No. Food is the reason you’re lonely. No one wants a fat slob. No food.” She grabbed a bottle from the vanity and threw it at the mirror. The glass exploded with a satisfying crash.

  ****

  “Damn it.” Sabrina punched the nearest wall.

  “You got issues, girl?” The quiet words came from behind her. She recognized the voice as her old friend and co-worker Darice McMasters.

  She turned biting the inside of her jaw. “What are you doing here?”

  “Playtime,” she said with a grin. “Chloe’s resting for a minute, so I thought I’d head down to the bar and grab a drink.”

  “Oh.” Chloe, Darice’s lover worked for her.

  “Come on, let me buy you one,” Darice offered. “She put on the brakes after getting you all hot to go?”

  “Nothing like that,” she muttered. “Stress, the job. You know.”

  “Yeah, Co told me she was picking up a few extra stories because you were down a couple of reporters.”

  “Yeah.” They headed for the stairs. “I’m having to work longer hours and do double duty. On top of that, Pam dragged her ass into my office tonight demanding money.”

  “Stepsister right?” Darice asked.

  “One and only,” she said coldly. She’d gotten the feeling Pamela was leaving something out.

  “I thought you were done with her.”

  “I haven’t seen her for seven or eight months,” Sabrina told her acerbically. And she would be done with her for good as soon as she got whatever video footage Pam thought she was going to lord over her for the rest of her life. “Even if I have to kill her and bury her fucking body in a swamp.”

  “Why would you want to go to that extreme?” Darice asked curiously as they descended the stairs.

  She shook her head, a pang of guilt stabbing her, but this was Darice. She’d killed her own father and uncle. She knew what it was like to have to cut the dead weight of family away.

  “She’s threatening me with something,” Sabrina said coldly as they entered the lounge.

  Darice studied her and sympathy glittered in her eyes before her lips pulled into a hard line. “I’ll get us some drinks.”

  Sabrina took a table in back and rested her forehead against her fingers after propping her elbow up on the table. She closed her eyes and the beautiful brown of Veda’s skin filled her vision. Her soft curves and nice ass drew a low moan from her.

  Damn the woman was hot and that long hair added to the appeal. But she couldn’t do that.

  Veda was another problem waiting to happen. A liability she didn’t need especially right now with Pamela creating waves in her life that she wouldn’t withstand long.

  Despite her appearance, Sabrina hadn’t been a nice girl in a very long time. Her mother’s mistake of falling in love with that pedophile who’d become Sabrina’s stepfather had turned Sabrina’s world upside down when she was ten. Her life would have been so much easier if he’d have been a preferential offender, but Billy had been anything but.

  He’d started in on her right after the honeymoon and he’d never let up. After her mother’s death, she’d become his entire sexual fixation—his wife of sorts while his daughter had been his mistress. He hadn’t been obvious in front of his family, but with his small circle of friends, pedophiles who lived as he did, he’d made it clear she was his woman.

  Even as she aged, he’d continued to claim her as his. He’d stopped sleeping with Pam when Sabrina turned fifteen and told her she was the only one. He’d nearly beat her to death when she got pregnant that same year. As a present to make it up to her, he’d bought her a car and then shared her with one of his friends.

  She wasn’t going to jail for killing him and his slimy friend. She only regretted she hadn’t done it sooner.

  “So, what’s she got?” Darice asked joining her with their drinks. “Video of you offing her old man?”

  “I don’t know. She says she does. He taped our sessions, and I know he was taping that night. I thought the tape was destroyed in the fire.”

  Darice’s expression didn’t change. “You burned down the house after you killed him?”

  She’d had no choice. Blood had been everywhere—hers, his, and his friend’s.

  “It was messy.”

  Darice shrugged. “Sometimes is when you’re young and inexperienced.”

  “I can’t do time over this,” she said. “And I can’t let her blackmail me forever.”

  “Maybe she’s been dealing, and she’s using more than selling,” Darice suggested.

  “She said she was doing that, and the guy’s given her three months to pay him the four thousand she owes.”

  “You don’t need to do the hit yourself. Zyra will alibi me if it comes to it.”

  She pushed out a rough sigh. “Darice—”

  “We’re survivors.” Darice covered Sabrina’s hand. “The past still comes back to shit on us sometimes, but we can’t let it suck us back into the abyss we climbed out of. The darkness changed us, forever left us stained black, but that doesn’t mean we have to let it steal any happiness we can find now.”

  Sabrina nodded. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to be free.”

  “You are, Bri,” she said in a steely tone. “You are, so let me know what you want to do.”

  “I’m going to talk to her, see if I can get the video. If I can’t…”

  Darice squeezed her hand and the look in her eyes said it all. Darice raised her glass. “Something to believe in.”

  They’d bonded one night over Bon Jovi songs and beer. They’d gotten sloppy drunk and told each other their life stories. They’d gone to work for a nameless organization as assassins and personal protection specialists. Today that organization had a name and was under investigation by the FBI and DHS, Department of Homeland Security.

  Neither of them was on active status with Mojo, but they were still friends with some of the operatives that worked for the covert organization.

  “I got to go. Let me know either way.”

  Sabrina nodded. She’d make that call if necessary, but she’d do the crime herself.

  Chapter Five

  “Good morning, Veda.”

  The grave voice caught her attention, but she really wasn’t in the mood for her father this morning. So she didn’t look up from the coffee she was stirring cream into in the employee breakroom.

  “I called you last night,” he said quietly. “Anne-Marie said you left a message about the dinner party.”

  “I did,” she replied coolly. Dinner parties. She hated them and always had. He was constantly trying to fix her up with some man or other. He didn’t really think she was stable enough to run Perfect Charm. He wanted a son-in-law with a level head to take her in hand and take over the company at the same time.

  He loved her, but he w
anted to fix her, and he couldn’t though not for lack of trying.

  “Where were you?”

  “Out.” She turned and gripped the charm of her necklace in her free hand. It was a black and surgical steel beaded rosary with the face of the goddess Kali in the middle and the triskle at the very end where the cross normally was.

  Kali was a goddess of strength and courage, and she needed to be strong in this time when she could so easily backslide.

  “Girls do that sometimes. Haven’t you heard?” She strode past him ignoring the tart expression on his face.

  Claude Le Man was a Frenchman descended from royalty according to the family tree, and he’d treated her like a princess all her life.

  When it became clear she was broken, he tried to fix her with therapy and this company.

  “Veda,” he said sternly. “I’m concerned about you. Anne-Marie said Susan called her about you.”

  She laughed bitterly. Susan was her overbearing therapist and Anne-Marie was her stepmother. Anne-Marie saw Susan herself a few times a week for her sexual dysfunction.

  “You said you weren’t seeing her anymore?”

  “I did,” she agreed. “I’m tired of her. She talks my business too much to Anne-Marie. I should report her for being a talkative bitch.”

  “Veda,” he chastised.

  She stepped into her office and a wolf’s shadow moved across the wall, snagging her attention. The wolf was her totem animal. The animal’s purpose was to stand between her and danger, scaring the attacker with its growls so she could escape. However, it didn’t attack and its form was never physical.

  She started to close the door but didn’t leaving it open for her father knowing he was on her ass. The man didn’t cut her any slack. He watched her like a hawk. He even checked out the contents of her very well-organized fridge. Her meals were all in portion-size containers prepared by a private chef he’d hired for her.

  “You know, Jacques asked about you last night. He understands the business, and he doesn’t have a problem with you being overweight especially with the progress you’re making.”

  She laughed gaily. “Daddy.” Jacques wanted her inheritance and the company. Her father was too blind to see the asshole didn’t mean either of them any good, but it was a good thing she saw him for the sneaky little bastard he was.

  “Adrian?”

  She sat down with an exasperated sigh.

  Adrian was cute but too detached beneath his congenial banter.

  “No. Dad, listen. I was going over the proposal last night, and I really think we should do this thing.”

  He sighed as he folded his six-foot frame into one of the guest chairs in front of her desk. “It’s risky,” he said with a shake of his head. “Especially with your new line coming out in the fall.”

  “Sales are up especially in France and Spain,” she told him. “The English numbers show improvement as well.”

  “And here?” he challenged.

  “There’s a two percent increase, and with the revised marketing plan I think we’ll see a stronger increase by year’s end.”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “The budget for these kinds of things tends to be large.”

  “It’ll be worth it. I like the sample and I already have ideas in mind for the campaign.”

  “Honey—”

  “Daddy, you trust my judgment more than you think you do,” she said. “Otherwise we’d never have these kinds of conversations, and you’d bring in a CEO I couldn’t work with. But you stay on, and you keep the company private.”

  “Go back into therapy,” Claude told her firmly. “Susan thinks you’re showing signs of becoming anorexic.”

  “I’m not. I swear.” She was, but she was fighting it. She was determined even after last night not to become a statistic again.

  “If you had a man in your life, it would offset some of the stress of the job and give you other things to focus on.”

  “Getting laid isn’t the answer to my problems,” she said sullenly. “Men aren’t the answer.”

  “I think it’s the answer to part of your problem,” he said quietly.

  “I don’t want to talk about my sex life,” she told him coldly. “I have a few meetings this morning, so consider the perfume. I’ll get a new therapist because Susan has taken me as far as she can.”

  Claude studied her, and she knew what he was thinking. The pain in his eyes almost broke her heart. So, she looked away.

  “You know I love you, Veda. I loved your mother, and I want nothing more than to see you happy. Being so conflicted is what has destroyed your life.”

  “Conflicted about what?” she frowned.

  “Your sexuality.”

  “I’m not conflicted,” she snapped angrily and glanced briefly at her bracelet. There had been no conflict when she cast the spell. She’d wanted a woman not a man. “Now, can you let me get to work?”

  He got to his feet as she knew he would. He didn’t want to address her sexuality, but it wasn’t the sole cause of her problems. Being a half-bred girl in an upper-middle-class white world had caused some of her problems and then being a fat girl dragged her on a downward spiral from which she was still struggling to recover.

  “I’ll talk to you later,” Claude said heading for the door. “Don’t forget to have your breakfast.”

  “I ate,” she told him, lying easily. She hadn’t been hungry despite not having eaten last night.

  “I’ll see you for dinner tonight. No excuses.”

  ****

  Sabrina breezed into her office at ten, glad the first interview of the day was over. “Miss Lacey.” She passed her secretary’s desk.

  “Oh, Ms. Cain.” The petite woman leaped to her feet, fair skin coloring.

  Sabrina stopped, the skin on the back of her neck prickling. “I know. Alexi’s already contacted me about the mirror. I’ll send her a check.”

  Alexi owned No Dice, and she’d called her last night with a stern warning and polite demand for payment.

  “It’s not about Alexi,” she said quickly.

  “What then?” she asked.

  “Agents here to see you.” Her gaze darted to the reception area where two men in suits that looked cheaper than her shoes lounged, legs sprawled.

  Sabrina gave them both a cool stare. “Gentlemen?”

  Both men stood and strolled over to her, the one with the high and tight cut looked down at her with cool brown eyes.

  “Ms. Cain?” the other one said cordially. “I’m Agent Jansen and that’s my partner Agent Crow.”

  Agent Crow gave her a nod, and she returned it. “My office,” she said and headed past Lacey’s desk. She put the camera bag down on her desk. “What can I do for you?” She sat down as Agent Crow closed the door behind them.

  “We’d like to ask you a few questions about your sister Pamela Cain,” Agent Jansen told her.

  Drugs and her boyfriend?

  “A, I don’t have any siblings and B, I don’t know anything, and I don’t want to,” she said coldly.

  “We’re investigating the death of Agent Crandall. She was killed in Virginia Park not too long ago,” Agent Crow told her. “She spoke with your sister the day she died as well as one of your writers.”

  “Your writer has been cleared, but your sister hasn’t been. Agent Crandall suspected your sister of dealing drugs for The Hatter.”

  Sabrina leaned back in her chair, barely containing her surprise. The Hatter was head of a drug and human trafficking cartel according to a friend of hers.

  “I don’t have any knowledge of that,” she said.

  “According to Agent Crandall’s notes, your sister was also the last to see two runaways alive. She and her boyfriend, Westmore picked the kids up near a shelter downtown and were transporting them to a party where the kids were the main event.”

  The chill in his eyes had nothing to do with the rage his word stirred in her. After all they’d both gone through as kids, how could Pamela do some
thing so cruel? She knew what it was like to be so victimized and used.

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  “Pamela met with you that same day,” Agent Crow told her. “Just as you were seen with her and Westmore last night only an hour before another agent was killed. So you can tell us what you know, or you’re going to be a suspect as well.”

  “Suspect?” she asked flabbergasted.

  “Why don’t you take a look at these,” Agent Crow told her and removed a small envelope from the inside pocket of his pants. He tossed it on her desk.

  Sabrina picked up the envelope and went through the pictures of several kids both alive and dead. Also there were a few pictures of her with Pamela and Westmore.

  She tossed the pictures down and looked from one man to the other and both seemed to expect more emotion from her. There was curiosity in Agent Crow’s stare and suspicion in Jansen’s.

  “I gave my sister money because she said her dealer was on her ass and threatening to kill her.”

  “Is this her dealer?” Crow removed his phone from his suit jacket pocket and brought something onto the screen before holding it out to her.

  Sabrina took the phone. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never met him, thankfully.”

  “He deals for The Hatter,” Agent Jansen told her. “And he works with Westmore who trafficks kids for The Hatter.”

  “I would never get involved in hurting a child,” she snapped.

  “You used to volunteer at the gay shelter downtown that was being run by Patton, a pedophile,” Agent Crow said.

  “I didn’t really know Patton,” she rebutted coldly. “And it has been several months since I’d done any volunteer work there.” The gay shelter had been shut down and Patton was dead.

  She’d learned Patton had been pimping those kids out to men mostly who had a taste of same sex teens.

  “That’s easy to say now,” Agent Crow snapped. “Your sister was connected to him and the shelter as was her boyfriend.”

  “I don’t know anything,” she said coldly. “And you need to go out there and do your job instead of harassing me.”

  “Talk to your sister, and see if you can get her to give her boyfriend up,” Agent Jansen said calmly. “She’s looking at the death penalty for killing an agent and those kids.”

 

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