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Even as the words left my mouth, they confused me and still, it was the most likely explanation. Was he looking for answers, too? Why?
Dropping back against the headboard, I released a frustrated sigh, wincing as my broken rib protested the heavy breath.
By now, Balder’s Grove was little more than charcoal and ash. It was doubtful I would be able to find any clues there as to who set this whole thing into motion.
My eyes dropped to my phone, still cradled in my hand, and it hit me. There was one lead I could follow. It was only five forty-five. Plenty of time to get dressed and grab a quick bite to eat.
A familiar calm settled over me as I slipped into work mode and tucked the anger away, reminding myself to stay detached. It was harder this time. Usually, I could remind myself, it’s just business. But this time—this time it was entirely personal.
My fingers closed around the edges of the first-aid kit, pulling it from its spot tucked away near the towels and laying it next to the sink. A small smirk found its way onto my lips when I completed the small task without the slightest tremble in my hands.
Reaching for the compression bandage, I fixed my eyes on the mirror. I wrapped my ribcage as tightly as I could stand it. I wouldn’t be taking a deep breath anytime soon, but the tight wrap should help lessen at least some of the pain.
The slinky black tank slid into place, covering the bandage, and I pulled my black cargo pants up and slipped my boots on.
I steeled my spine, taking the deepest breath I dared, then lifted my fingers to my hair, sliding and twisting with practiced ease as I wove it into my favorite fishtail braid, shifting it slightly so the end naturally draped over my shoulder.
With the bandage, the pain was manageable, my eyes only betraying my discomfort for a fraction of a heartbeat before settling back into the unfuckwithable mask I wore.
The familiar motion of my knives sliding into their sheaths cleared away another layer of unease, settling the last bit of nerves that had cropped up.
What I planned to do tonight wasn’t just forbidden. It could very well make me an enemy to everyone in my field, painting an even bigger target on my back. It wasn’t like I had a lot of options, though.
I knew enough to know the relief I felt, the safety I felt within these walls, was only an illusion. Hadn’t I killed scores of people in their own safe places?
No, for me to be able to breathe freely, truly free and not looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life, I needed to end this. I needed answers.
Which meant it was time to hunt.
Chapter 12
AHREN
My conversation with Connor had been eye opening. So much so that I didn’t bother finishing my three-finger salute before rushing out the door to confront the broker, or at the very least, keep her from confronting him—from killing him.
Connor was right. Tierney was feeling vulnerable. Her first order of business would have been to restore her peace of mind.
It was stupid of me to rush out without a plan; with so many unanswered questions. Yet, I had done just that, arriving at the broker’s villa nearly an hour later and still no closer to answering the questions that plagued my mind. Chief among them, was I going to let her take the hit or was I going to aim that particular bullet at myself?
And again, why the fuck did I care?
The answer to the second was just as elusive as the answer to the first and as I stepped out of my car, I realized this was the first time ina decade I was going into a situation without knowing the end game first.
The moonless night clothed me in darkness, allowing me to slip from shadow to shadow as I traveled the quarter mile or so to the broker’s house and eased through the garden gate.
More than halfway along the winding flagstone pathway, a growing sense of unnatural darkness made me realize that something was wrong. Very wrong. The solar lamps that lit the walkway on my last visit were missing, and even the floodlights that lit the garden were dark tonight.
Peering through the kitchen window revealed a darkened, seemingly empty house.
Each small, irregular detail, insignificant on its own, murmured its unease into my mind. Their whispered hisses formed a writhing pit of snakes as I reached for the back door, finding it unlocked.
My mind raced, each possibility holding equal weight. But the one I kept returning to was that she had beaten me here and had already dealt with the broker on her own.
Maybe she had already cleaned up and here I was mucking up her carefully curated crime scene.
“Fuck.” I growled in frustration.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath, allowing it to wash over me. I could allow myself a brief moment of indecision, but only one. My eyes snapped open; the decision made.