Page 18 of Wraith (Deviant Assassin #1)

Wild

“ M errick, Wilder…” Sinski calls to us from his office across the room. “… conference room.”

I ignore Colton as he tries to burn a hole in my chest with his furious stare as I head to my boss’ office to find out what’s going on. Colton’s probably scared shitless I disclosed the secret about his ex-girlfriend’s murder. I didn’t. I’ll be the one to end his miserable existence, not the law.

Sinski stands at the head of the conference table, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished wood. Merrick and I sit across from him.

He takes a deep breath, and I already know the gravity of what he’s about to say.

“We’ve got a situation,” he begins, his voice steady but carries the weight of urgency. “Wraith has struck again.”

My eyes narrow, a flicker of anger running through me. “Where this time?”

“Downtown,” he replies, checking his phone as a message alert rings out. “A high-profile target. The scene is… gruesome.”

Merrick leans forward, his jaw set. “What do you need from us, Director?”

“I want you both at the crime scene immediately,” Sinski says. “We need to gather every piece of evidence possible. Wraith is getting bolder, and we can’t afford to let him slip through our fingers again.”

I nod, already rising from my seat. “On it.”

“Good,” Sinski says, his tone firm. “And be careful. Wraith is dangerous and too damn good at staying ahead of us. We need to catch him before this gets out of hand.”

Yes, once we have him in hand, I’ll have my hands on a lot more of his wife.

I step out of my government issued sedan, the chilly wind biting my face, just as the rest of the team pile out of a black SUV.

I watch Colton as he laughs when he passes a rookie puking into a bush at the end of the driveway.

My gut tells me he blew my cover with the Hell Hounds.

The more important thing is figuring out who’s giving him orders to fuck with me.

Yellow tape cordons off the crime scene, and the flashing lights of police cars cast eerie shadows on the old, abandoned warehouse. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what lies ahead. Sinski doesn’t use the word gruesome often after all his years with the FBI.

As I approach the entrance, a young officer, pale and visibly shaken, lifts the tape for me.

“It’s bad in there, Agent Wilder,” he warns.

I give a curt nod. I’ve seen my fair share of gruesome scenes, but something in his eyes tells me this one’s different.

I step into the dimly lit room with the team on my heels, the metallic stench of blood and burned flesh permeate the air, assaulting my senses.

My guys spread out, taking photographs, sketches, and gathering sorely needed evidence.

Colton stays irritatingly near as we move carefully, not disturbing the scene as we get an initial overview of the situation.

The scene is nothing short of a nightmare. Two bodies lie on the cold concrete floor; their lifeless forms twisted in agony.

I bend down next to the first victim, a man in his thirties, has his fingers and toes brutally severed, leaving behind raw and bloody stumps.

Evidence of the torture he endured. Electrical burns mar his skin, the charred marks crisscrossing his chest and arms. I can almost hear his screams echoing in the room.

“Look at this,” I say, voice gruff. I point to the burns. “He took his time with this one.”

Colton nods.

“Our killer enjoys the suffering and playing sick games.”

I turn my attention to the second victim, a woman.

Her throat decimated by a tie-cut. Her tongue pulled through a deep, jagged wound stretching from ear to ear and left dangling on the neck.

Blood has pooled around her, staining the floor a dark crimson.

Her fingers and toes are also missing, the same cruel fate as the man beside her.

My stomach churns at the smell as I swipe a horsefly away from my face. But I force myself to stay focused. Not on the blood splattered walls, or how my shoes almost slide; the floor so slick with the viscous fluid.

This is nothing like Wraith’s previous kills.

Those are less brutal with more finesse.

And his calling card of a picture of his very alive and weirdly happy-looking victims. I search for any clues that might lead us to the creator of this mess.

This ranks near the top of the list of the most brutal scenes I’ve witnessed.

My eyes flick across the room surveying the damage, but never lingering long as I compare this to the crime scenes that have haunted my dreams over the years.

No, this kill is someone else’s signature, not Wraith. A twisted display of power and control.

I reach out, my gloved finger hovering over the edge of a wound.

“This cut… it’s precise. He knew exactly what he was doing.”

Merrick kneels beside me; his gaze fixed on the woman’s lifeless eyes.

“He’s sending a message. He wants us to know he’s in control.”

I clench my fists, anger boiling within me. “We need to find this sick fuck, Merrick. Before he does this to anyone else.”

“Bennett, we need to talk,” he says, his voice low.

I nod, my resolve to retire strengthening the longer I have this asshole for a partner. Once I have irrefutable proof he blew my cover, I’m going to kill him. Right in front of Grandmother.

We step aside to let some of our team members take over and I lead him out of the investigation frenzy and to a quiet part of the side yard. I scowl as he steps into my personal space and speaks low in my ear.

“I know this isn’t Wraith.”

“Yeah, genius? What makes you say that?”

The clues are there, but he doesn’t know Wraith like I do. And he’s a stupid fuck.

A sly grin crosses his too big mouth. “Auntie called in this kill.” He places his hand on my shoulder as if we’re friends. I’m forced to lean back from his mint-laced breath. “She called in her favorite toy, Shadow. Told him to make it brutal.”

Shadow. Now I have an even more fucked up sort of ‘partner’. As if my life wasn’t already a dumpster fire.

Colton dramatically glances around to make sure we’re still alone, as if I haven’t been doing that the entire time we’ve been in the yard.

Does he think he’s in some kind of movie? What a fucking tool. There are real issues to consider here, like the safety of my Heathen. If she’s tangled up in the dark dealings, I’m beginning to suspect she is, then Shadow may be after her, too.

“Calm down and tell me what you know,” I say with a sigh of frustration.

“I guess some stupid bitch ran her mouth. You know Auntie doesn’t tolerate that shit. So she ordered Shadow to get the point across to keep their mouth shut, permanently.”

“And how do you have this information?”

And why the hell are you telling me? This asshole needs to control his mouth. It’s one thing if he wants to come at me and another if he’s putting Grandmother at risk.

He should know better than to say this shit in the open, even between us. Too much risk of being overheard. Of giving someone power to blackmail her, or worse.

Colton shrugs. “She called him right in front of me.” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “She is one vicious lady. I wouldn’t want to piss her off. Auntie’s creative! A necktie, such an old school brutality. And to another woman. Damn, I love chick fights.”

She did what? I’m missing something here. She has a reason for everything, but I’m hard pressed to figure this one out.

Is she grooming Colton for something? Did she send him to talk to me so I would know exactly how stupid he is? Permission to kill him for something other than blowing my cover? I have to find the proof and take him out before he gets Grandmother or me killed. But how?

“Does this mean you’re joining the family business? Your father expressly forbade it. You’ve suddenly decided to get some balls?”

“Oh, come on, man, you can call him Uncle Bennie.” He moves to pat my back, but I sidestep and give him the side-eye, my gaze clashing with the mean streak glinting in his shit brown eyes.

“Well, Auntie has been griping about not being able to count on you.” He huffs out a breath.

“We’ve gotten so very close these last two years you’ve been gone. ”

Uh-huh, I see, dickwad.

I nod and give him my most innocent smile. “I’m so glad you finally have a mother figure in your life to teach you how to be a man. Someone who tolerates your presence. Doesn’t hate you like your actual mother.”

His face turns bright red as Jerry Talbot, my partner before I was promoted to supervisor, steps into the yard. “Hey guys, we’re done here and…” He glances at his watch. “… shift ended about an hour ago. The team’s going for Korean BBQ. Come on.”

I nod my chin at him. “You guys go have fun. I have work to do tonight.”

“Wild, I just told you we’re finished here.”

I lock eyes with Colton and say, “I have a promising lead on the dead man who blew my cover. His days are numbered.”

Colton storms off mumbling to himself when Jerry says, “Fact! You always get your man, Wild.”

I laugh. The truth of that will grate on Colton’s nerves until the moment I end him.

Spinning on my heel, I head to the front yard and weave my way through the mass of local officials working the crime scene.

Before pulling my cell out, I shut myself in my car for privacy.

Using the voice distorter app, I dial Shadow.

“What?”

I shake my head at his raw anger. “Do you always answer the phone that way?”

His distorted voice comes back at me, “The fuck do you want?”

My lip curls when I say, “I’m sitting at a warehouse just outside the city. Is this your handiwork?”

He scoffs, then says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Just curious, though, are you having an electrifying evening?”

“So, you come to my town and leave messes like this for me to clean up?”

“You’re welcome.”

“For what, asshole!”

“Just follow the clues. The killer may have left a shit ton of DNA behind. They may even be on the FBI’s most wanted list. I left a trail easy enough to make even you look like a superstar.”

I grind my teeth, pissed I have to deal with not only Merrick, but this dick, too.

“Uh-huh. What’s your progress on the Wraith situation?” I ask.

“Everyone knows you’re hot for his wife after the shitshow of an interrogation that broke a dozen rules.”

“Don’t worry about Bureau rules. You need to get the job done.”

“I don’t take orders from you.”

The line goes dead and my ire escalates, pissed at myself for asking the question.

I stroked off thinking about Kiera last night.

In the middle of my fantasy, a shadowed assassin appeared, waiting for his turn while she was on her knees for me.

Like a good girl, she took us both. Alternatingly choking on our cocks swallowing our loads.

My dick throbs in my slacks as I start the engine, gravel scattering when I peel out, thoughts of her at my mercy, playing through my mind.

Stalking Kiera doesn’t make me a psycho, and I’ll keep her out of the sights of Shadow by any means necessary.