Page 33 of Stalk (Assassin’s Kiss Duet #1)

Ren

T his is so strange to me. Going straight up to my target instead of stalking him and then finding a way to sneak in unnoticed.

After ringing the doorbell, a weird sense of calm washes over me as I stare at the heavy wooden door.

I’ve been sick to my stomach all day; unable to eat or keep anything down.

Yet as I stand here, I feel almost peaceful.

Is this how it feels right before you meet your end?

I keep my hands secured around the straps of my backpack as I wait.

Inside my bag are fake brochures and pamphlets about the best pest control in Alexandria, which is what I’m going to try and “sell” to Anthony Ellington tonight.

But what I’m really selling is my body. Catherine said it shouldn’t be hard with Anthony’s taste.

I’m not so sure, though. I’ve tried flirting in the past and it usually leaves me feeling defeated and lonelier than before.

I don’t focus on that. There’s a fifty-fifty shot that I’ll leave this house alive, and at this point? I don’t really care one way or the other.

I’m not riddled with weapons all over my body for once.

I have a single gun strapped to my ankle.

There aren’t any weapons inside of my bag, either, aside from a syringe in a small, hidden pocket.

Catherine was in agreement with my chosen method of termination this time around.

Usually, she wants me to kill via gunshot wound.

Something about that way of doing things makes her feel like the kill is more definite.

Killing via poison freaks her out, like the corpse will suddenly rise like a vampire from their coffin once the sun sets.

Though poison isn’t always foolproof, it works most of the time, and if it doesn’t, the target is usually so groggy when they come to that they’re very easy to take out.

Unlike Helena, whose overdose was easy to stage due to her being an addict, Anthony is a smart businessman.

He sells every hard drug you can think of, but doesn’t use.

He doesn’t even partake in marijuana. However, he does drink.

A lot. Catherine’s assistant, who handles our weaponry and poisons, assured me that the syringe she handed over this morning will make Anthony pass out within five to ten minutes.

It’s supposedly a blend of things like Paraquat Dichloride and Deadly Nightshade.

Because Anthony is dangerous and knows his way around weapons, I’ve been instructed to slip the contents of the syringe into his drink, and then blow his brains out once he passes out.

The poison is able to kill him, but it would take longer than we’d like, so I can’t avoid spilling blood this time.

That, and it’s much less suspicious for a drug lord to be found shot with all of his money gone than poisoned.

I wish I could get away with this kill without putting a bullet through his skull.

At least he will be passed out—I’m hopeful that will make things a little easier.

I snap out of my thoughts as soon as the door opens. Anthony Ellington leans a forearm on the doorframe and checks me out, all the way from my boots to the top of my head. Confident, this one . A blush burns across my cheeks as I meet his eyes.

“Well, hello there,” Anthony says smoothly. “How can I help you?”

My mouth grows dry as I look at him. Anthony is in his mid-thirties, a little taller than I am, and looks like your standard white GQ cover model.

He’s got the sweet baby blues, the muscles, and the tan for it.

Hell, he’s even wearing form fitting jeans and a white V-neck like he’s ready to pull it off and show me his six-pack abs.

To be honest, he kind of resembles that one vampire who tried to kill Bella in Twilight.

The one with the golden hair pulled back.

Shit . If I was Edward I’d ditch Bella and run away with this guy.

Stay focused. “Good evening, sir. I was walking around your beautiful neighborhood spreading the word about Alexandria’s newest pest control service, Pest in Peace. Would you have some time to chat about our services?”

A giant grin spreads over Anthony’s face. He smacks the door frame lightly as he cackles. “Pest in Peace? Man. We’re really outta good names nowadays aren’t we?”

I force a laugh and a smile. I want to look away from him, but I don’t. “Yeah. I admit, it’s a pretty horrible pun.”

“Have you had anyone in the hood interested yet?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, sir. People aren’t too fond of door-to-door salespeople these days.” I shrug. “No hard feelings. I’ll let you get back to your evening.”

I turn on my heel ever so slightly, as if to leave, but Anthony won’t have it. “How about you come in for a drink? Give me whatever brochures or bullshit you’ve got in that backpack, and call it a night. What do you say?”

I turn back around and nibble on my lower lip. “I’m really supposed to get through a few more houses tonight before I call it quits.”

Anthony quirks an eyebrow. “You sure that’s what you’d rather be doing?”

Damn, he’s good. I act like I’m considering my options, then nod. “Yeah, okay. It can’t hurt for me to come in for one drink.”

“Hell yeah. Come on in.” Anthony opens the door wider. “What’s your name, by the way? I should’ve asked before inviting you in. Sorry for my poor manners, it’s been a long day.”

I chuckle, hopefully in a charming way. “It’s all good, I understand. I’m Leo.”

I definitely do not look like a Leo, but oh well. Getting into Anthony’s house has already been easier than I thought it’d be, and I’m betting that’s because he’s after sex and not making the local salesperson a colleague over drinks.

“You’ve got a beautiful house,” I tell him after being led to a glorious bar just off the extravagant dining room.

Anthony grins and places a hand over his chest. “Thank you. I’ve worked on it for a long time. What would you like to drink? I’ve got it all.”

I swallow roughly, nerves finally hitting me a little. “I’ll take whatever you’re having.” I smile and hope it looks genuine.

“Two rum and Cokes, then,” Anthony says with a voice laced with red velvet.

“Thank you. And thanks for inviting me in,” I say with a laugh. “I hope I’m not imposing on you.”

Anthony shakes his head as he mixes our drinks. “I haven’t had company in a while. It’s nice to have someone around.”

“You don’t have a wife? Or a partner?” I pry.

Anthony hands me my drink and we clink our glasses together. “Nah. I’ve never wanted to settle down, truthfully. I prefer socializing when I want to and having my time to myself. What about you? Is there anyone special?”

I take a sip of the very strong rum and Coke and let it burn its way down my throat before responding. “No. I guess I just haven’t found anyone worthwhile yet.”

Anthony smirks. “You’re young. You’ve got all the time in the world.”

Awkwardness grows in the space between us, so I take another sip of my drink, then set it atop the bar table. I pull out a fake brochure and information packet and hand them to Anthony. With each move I make, Anthony’s eyes stay on me.

Anthony takes the papers. “Thank you. So… do you like hot tubs, Leo?” he asks abruptly after placing the papers on the bar.

I’m taken aback at first. Is this man already suggesting we strip down and “get to know” each other?

My neck and face burn. The most I’ve ever done with another guy is kiss and feel each other up.

I’ve never done any of the fun stuff or gone all the way before—and I definitely don’t want Anthony to be my first. I breathe and get my head back in the game.

It won’t get that far. You aren’t here for that and you won’t let it happen.

With a small sense of newfound confidence, I smile at him and meet his eyes. “I do.”

“Wanna take these drinks outside and relax? No strings attached, obviously. We only met a few minutes ago.” Anthony laughs and it sounds almost calculated. Like he’s used to luring salespeople in from his doorstep. A chill drips down the length of my spine. “It’s a nice night. What do you say?”

Suddenly, I remember the gun strapped to my ankle. How the hell am I going to pull this off? My mind races and before I take too long with my response, I figure out a possible way around my predicament.

“That sounds nice. Do you, um, have some swim trunks I can change into?” I smile sheepishly and shrug. “I’d feel more comfortable that way.”

Anthony nods. “Totally understand. I’ll go change and get you some trunks.” With that, Anthony turns around and walks out of sight.

“Fucking hell,” I mutter under my breath. In his absence, I’m tempted to remove my gun and shove it in my backpack, but I don’t want to risk him coming back too quickly and spotting it. So I chug half of my drink to calm my rising anxiety and wait.

Anthony returns when my drink is almost completely dry. He’s wearing a pair of short (and I mean short) swim trunks that leave very little to the imagination. Suddenly, I feel a bit embarrassed, like I shouldn’t be seeing what’s right in front of my eyes.

He tosses me another pair, equally as short and highlighter orange in color. “They aren’t very pretty, but they’re more your size. Will those do?” he asks.

“Absolutely. Thank you, is there a bathroom I can change in?”

He points to the same hallway we walked down to get to the bar. “Second door on your left.” Anthony glances at the empty drink in my hand, winks, and takes it from me. “I’ll refresh your drink while you’re gone.”

“Uh… thanks. Be back soon!”

I walk away and find myself locked in a large guest bathroom. My back presses against the door once I’m safely locked inside and I breathe in and out slowly. One thing is for sure: I am not about to drink that second rum and Coke. The chances of a drug lord spiking my drink seem pretty high to me.