Page 42 of Wraith (Deviant Assassin #1)

Wild

T he smell of burning rubber and gasoline hangs in the air, mixing with the acrid scent of lingering smoke from the explosion that rocked the place.

My bike’s parked just a few feet away, its low hum silent but ready.

I clench my fists as Colton drags a boy—Cassius—toward me by the arm.

The teen’s wide-eyed, scared shitless, but that’s not my problem right now.

“What’d you say, kid?” Colton barks, his grip tightening.

I don’t like the way Colton’s fingers dig into Cassius’ arm, but I hold back, biting down the instinct to tell him to back off. There’s a bigger issue at hand.

“Someone—someone took Kiera,” Cassius stammers, wincing. “Carried her through the yard.”

The words hit me like a punch in the gut, the air around me turning cold despite the fire raging inside. I’m at a loss for words as different scenarios flash through my mind. All of them bad.

Fucking Wraith.

Colton sneers, throwing a shitty glance my way, enjoying the fact I’m rattled.

“You heard him. Someone kidnapped Kiera Blaque. What now, partner?”

Partner. The word tastes like poison. I hate being forced together with him, hate his proximity to this.

“Go check the damn scene, Colton. Get some clues, footprints, tire marks, anything.” I snap, cutting through the tension. “Do your job for once.”

Colton narrows his eyes, but releases Cassius.

“Fine. I’ll search. But don’t think I’m not watching you, Wild.”

He stalks off, boots crunching on the gravel, his heavy steps carrying a threat.

I dismiss him and focus on the kid. Cassius’ shaking, his eyes darting everywhere, like he’s trying to find an exit to bolt through. Can’t blame him. Felix stands behind him, arms crossed, looking like he’s only held in place by the distraught boy.

I crouch down, meeting Cassius’ gaze at eye-level. “Tell me what you saw.”

He crosses his arms over his thin chest, unknowingly mirroring Felix’s stance.

Shaking his head, he puffs up and glares at me. “I don’t talk to pigs, dick!”

I can’t help the grin that splits my lips. The kid has an attitude, not unlike Kiera, and it’s surprisingly endearing. But now isn’t the time for that shit. I need information, so I better convince him to trust me.

Working to keep my voice calm, like I’m not ready to rip this entire place apart if I don’t get answers, I try another approach.

“Then it’s a good thing I’m not a cop,” I say, forcing a wry chuckle.

Cassius glances around at the scene swarming with agents. He hesitates, eyeing me warily.

“You… you look like one.”

I smirk, shaking my head as I reach for my man bun, pulling the tie loose and running my fingers through the strands that fall over my shoulders. I tug at the collar of my shirt, showing the kid the worn fabric, and my multiple tattoos, then motion to my jeans and boots.

“Do I though? FBI agents don’t roll up to crime scenes in Henleys and jeans.

They get the team jackets.” He glances around again at all the black jackets with white FBI across the back, then back to me, still unsure, so I step back and double down.

I gesture to my black Indian Scout Bobber.

The chrome glints under a shaft of sunlight breaking through the gray clouds, reflecting the orange hue of the fire’s aftermath.

“Would the FBI show up on a motorcycle? Especially one as cool as that?”

Cassius blinks, processing, then shakes his head. “No… no, I guess not.”

“Exactly.” I lean, keeping my voice low. “I’m not a Fed. But I need to find Kiera. She’s my friend. You want to help her, right?”

Cassius swallows hard, nodding slowly as his eyes become glassy.

“There was an explosion in the building where Kiera does her undertaker work.” Undertaker?

Sounds like something Kiera would tell the kid about her job.

“A big guy—he has black hair and a leather jacket. He was carrying her out the back door and… and put her in the trunk of a black…. what do you call a car with four doors?”

Felix shifts uneasily in my peripheral vision, but Cassius has all my attention.

“A sedan. He put her in the trunk of a sedan? Was she fighting him to get free?”

He shakes his head, and the tears run down his cheeks. “No, she just lay in his arms, limp…” he swallows hard, and his chin quivers, “…like the dead. She says she prefers the dead to the living, but I don’t think she wants to be dead.”

He breaks down, devolving into heart-wrenching sobs and doubles over.

Felix gives me a look of disgust and anger and wraps an arm around him, pulling him close.

With a sneer, he spins them around and walks away.

I should stop them, but I’ve gotten what I needed.

My heart races, blood pumping in my ears.

That description could only match one person.

“Resnik,” I mutter under my breath. It’s him. It has to be Wraith.

I take a step to go after them before they reach the house, but someone jerks my arms behind by back, stopping me. The heavy clank of handcuffs snaps shut around my wrists.

“What the hell—” I glance over my shoulder to see Colton standing behind me, an epically smug grin on the bastard’s face.

“You’re under arrest, Wilder,” he says, satisfaction dripping from every word. “Sinski’s orders.”

I grit my teeth, rage flaring. “The fuck?”

“Suspicion of witness involvement in a case you’re working. Rape,” Colton says casually, as if this whole thing doesn’t reek of a setup. “Interfering in a federal investigation. You know how it is.”

I yank against the cuffs, but they hold tight. “Bullshit! You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Take him in, boys.” Colton motions to two agents, who look uncomfortable but grab me and haul me toward the black SUV parked near the scene, anyway. My muscles tense, every part of me screaming to fight, but I don’t. Not yet. Not until I know more about what—who—I’m up against.

Rape? How is this happening right now?

I’ve been in the same room I once trapped Kiera in for hours.

The asshole investigators from the Office of Professional Responsibility throw endless questions at me—about my whereabouts every minute for the last five years, about Kiera, our relationship, about everything.

I stonewall them, but it doesn’t matter.

They don’t trust me, and Colton’s in their ear the whole time.

By the end, I’m suspended without pay. The smug asshole informs me not to leave town while he coordinates with the Department of Justice on the full investigation he’s recommending.

But I don’t have time for their games, and they don’t play in the same leagues I do. These trumped-up charges will never stick once Grandmother pulls strings.

Once I’m finally free of the stifling little room and the disdain and unfounded accusations of the flunkies who couldn’t hack field training, I head straight for the signal on the map from the tracker I planted in Kiera’s favorite boots.

I was dead serious when I vowed I’d always find her.

She’s mine, and I’ll never let her go. The signal’s almost out of range, and faint, but it’s there.

She’s moving. She’s still alive. I have to believe that.

I swing by Kiera’s place to get the only two things she needs besides me—Boo and reassurance the boys are alright. Stepping through the front door of the funeral home like I own it, I take the stairs two at a time, boots heavy on the creaky wood.

The place is quiet except for the muffled sound of clothes being tossed into a suitcase from upstairs.

Felix is packing. My gut twists.

Boo’s room is empty.

Damn it.

When I push open the door to Kiera’s room, Felix freezes mid-toss, a pile of shirts in his hand. The sight of him standing over her suitcase, throwing her things together like this, sets my teeth on edge.

He turns, eyes narrowing. “What are you doing here, Special Agent Wilder ?” he says, sneering the last words.

“I’m here for Boo,” I say, cutting straight to the point. “I’m going after Kiera.”

Felix scoffs, his hands gripping the shirts tighter before he tosses them into the suitcase with an irritated snap.

“You’re insane. You show up out of nowhere, drive her crazy for a couple of weeks, and now you want to take her best friend?

” Guilt flashes in his eyes, and he glances away from me.

“You’re too late for Kiera. She saw her last sunset two days ago.

They found her remains in the preparation building. ”

“Yeah, that’s bullshit. Pretty sure she’s still alive, Felix.

” I bite out, stepping farther into the room.

The scent of old wood and Kiera’s perfume—some sweet floral crap she likes—hangs in the air.

“And your acting skills are slipping, boy. If you believed she was dead as much as you’d like to convince me she is, then you’d be a sniveling mess, not casually tossing some of her clothes into a suitcase.

Now help me get Boo. She’ll want him with her as soon as I rescue her. And I’ll take that suitcase too.”

Felix stares at me like I’m saying Boo is going to ride shotgun in the red roadster some rich guy shot into space.

“You’re delusional,” he starts, but his next attempt at gaslighting me dies in his throat at my frosty glare. One hand lands on his hip, and he scowls. “Boo hates you, Wilder. I’m not letting you take him. The second he sees you; he’ll chew through the cage just to bite your ass again.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” I mutter, flexing the hand that still stings from the last time Boo sank his teeth into it.

The little bastard’s a menace, always hissing and snapping at me on sight.

But this isn’t about me or the damn ferret.

It’s about Kiera. “And stop being dramatic. She doesn’t keep him in a cage, fucking inhumane shit.

But she’s gonna need him. He’s her sidekick, however fucked up that is, and she’s going to need all the comfort she can get for the shit that’s about to go down.

I’m not leaving here without him. Arguing with me is only slowing me down. ”

Felix crosses his arms, eyes flashing with defiance and an odd hint of desperation.

“You’re not even FBI anymore. From what your partner said when he questioned me, you’re suspended, remember? You are not just waltzing in, grabbing Boo, just to pretend you’re a fucking hero. Surely you can’t travel, which is a big problem for a rescue mission.”

I step closer, the wood floor creaking beneath my boots. The scent of the burning wood from outside lingers faintly, a reminder of the chaos spiraling out of control. My voice drops, rough and low, as I hold his gaze.

“You think you can stop me from finding her? In what version of reality is that an option?”

Felix doesn’t flinch, but he thinks it over. I can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“I don’t think?—”

I interrupt him, not caring to hear whatever lies he’s going to spout.

The problem is, I just don’t know if he’s in on this with Blade.

They must have coordinated somehow because Wraith wouldn’t have taken Kiera if he intends to kill her.

He would have gotten the job done and done right.

Quick, efficient. Exactly as the scene presented the story.

Despite how difficult it was to leave her in the alley the other night, how much I worried it might be the wrong move.

We’re still connected. I’ve followed her for too long to not know in my bones if she were no longer here.

Giving her space was the right move. She needed to come to me—to come to terms with how we belong together—or she’d always be a flight risk.

I’m practical. Patient. Methodical. Not fucking stupid.

“I’ll find her,” I interrupt, lowering my tone.

I don’t want to tell him about the tracker I put on her that will lead me right to her.

If this guy is working with Wraith, he could warn him I’m coming.

“Felix, I’m going after her. And when I get to her, she’ll want Boo.

You know she will. She practically has the tiny menace glued to her hip. ”

“She will want to know that Boo is safe.” The muscled drama queen insists. “You really want to give her one more thing to worry about during this shitshow? There’s no guarantee you even find her, especially with your own people looking for you.”

My lip curls as I growl out the next words. “Even though I’m suspended, I can assure you I have FBI friends who would be very interested in learning why her sudden death…” I raise my hands in the air and finger quote death. “… hasn’t devastated you.”

Felix glares at me, the air between us thick with tension.

A faint rattle comes from behind the partly open closet door.

Giving away Boo’s whereabouts as he gets into something.

The absence of Kiera, or more likely the commotion, agitates the ferret.

I can practically smell the animal’s musty scent, mixing with the faint trace of the explosion that lingers on my jacket, even if it’s just my imagination anticipating having the little bastard near me again.

I give the man credit for not backing down eaaily as he steps into my path, blocking the closet door. “You’re right. Kiera will want to see Boo. So you’re going to to make it safe enough to bring her back to him. You’ll bet plenty of brownie points for that, without putting anyone else at risk.”

Damnit. He’s right, and every second I spend arguing with him, is time I don’t have with my Heathen

Felix stares me down. I sigh and reach for the suitcase he’s holding out for me. As much as I hate to admit it, we agree. Kiera needs both of us in different ways, but I’m the one who’s going to bring her home.

I turn and head for the door, but not before snatching the suitcase for Kiera.

The tracker flashes steadily as I follow the signal, my bike roaring to life beneath me as I tear down the road. Every bump on the pavement rattles my frazzled nerves, but I stay focused. Resnik took her. And if he thinks he’s walking away from this, he’s wrong. Dead wrong.

A battle’s coming.

And it’s going to end with one of us in the ground.