Page 72 of Wraith (Deviant Assassin #1)

“Relax, girls,” Esther waves a dismissive hand. “If I wanted Kiera dead, she wouldn’t have made it past the garden gnomes.” She fixes me with a look that could peel paint. “Though I must admit, I’m curious. Seducing both my grandson and my favorite assassin… that takes a special kind of… talent.”

I lift my chin and meet her gaze head-on. “What can I say?” I shrug, channeling my inner smartass, while trying to keep the unease in my gut out of my voice. “I’m an overachiever.”

“I had my suspicions,” she says smoothly, as if I didn’t just snark at her, fingers tracing the edge of her teacup.

“Especially after hearing that tone in Wild’s voice when he spoke of you.

Such tenderness, but let’s not dwell on your…

eclectic skills just yet. Of course, he wouldn’t tell me who you were.

So, I gathered a little dossier on you.”

The hairs on the back of my neck prickle, bringing a dark foreboding, but I keep my expression neutral.

“Did you now?” I say, my eyes narrowing.

“You had an awful life, didn’t you, Kiera?

” Her eyes gleam with almost maternal interest, her voice a blend of disdain and curiosity.

But I’m not buying it. “Isn’t it interesting how easily a life can be ruined?

How easily carefully constructed narratives can unravel.

Imagine my surprise when I learned you’re married to Blade Resnik.

” Esther’s maternal features become a biting smile, her tone turning icy.

“And yet you have my grandson chasing you around like a love-struck puppy.”

Esther’s words hang in the air, heavy and laced with menace.

The lavender scent from her tea suddenly feels cloying, suffocating.

I take a deep breath, steeling myself. This isn’t a game.

It’s a test. And I intend to pass. I meet her gaze, my own a challenge, a cold defiance that mirrors the chill in the air.

“Let’s get to it, Esther. I’m not here for tea and gossip.”

She doesn’t take the bait, merely raising a brow.

My heart thuds painfully, and I draw a deep breath.

“I’m not choosing between them. I can’t lose either of them.

” My voice wavers. Pheonix scoffs, but I straighten, holding Esther’s gaze fiercely.

“I will always protect Wild’s heart. The thought of a life without him, without either of them—it’s suffocating.

But after all this time, I’m getting what I want.

What I need, what we all need. No one is going to take that from me. ”

She watches me in silence, her piercing gaze unblinking as she assesses me. For a moment, I wonder if she’ll have me thrown out—or worse. But then, with a slow, almost regal nod, she seems to make up her mind.

Esther’s laugh is sharp as broken glass.

“You remind me of myself at your age. Though I never had the balls to leave a dragon dildo as commentary.” Esther rises smoothly, setting her cup aside.

She moves with a silent assurance that sends a shiver down my spine, a stark contrast to the erratic breathing I’m fighting to control.

The air around her crackles with anticipation.

Her hand sweeps across the wall beside the fireplace, and a hidden door hisses open, revealing a narrow, descending corridor.

“Speaking of balls, there’s someone in the basement I think you’ll want to meet. ”

Phoenix smirks, patting Sally’s head as she slides her onto the couch. “Hope you wore stain resistant clothes, Kiera. Things tend to get… messy… in Esther’s playroom.”

“Follow me,” Esther says, her voice soft but commanding, as if I have no choice in the matter. We follow her down the dimly lit corridor, the passage narrows, the oppressive silence broken only by my heart pounding annoyingly hard in my ears.

Calm the fuck down and think.

An open elevator waits for us. We step onto it and though Ester is a slight in frame, her huge personality presses in around us as we descend. I’ve the odd impression she’s leading me into a confessional rather than a confrontation.

“I knew I had a mole in Umber,” she says, her tone almost conversational, as if we’re merely strolling through the gardens not descending into hell.

The whole day has been a slow descent into hell.

Esther may be the devil’s sister, just like Pheonix is Blade’s.

She’s certainly made a deal with the big man downstairs.

“It wasn’t hard to spot once high command began mysteriously dropping like flies.

But it wasn’t until a pattern emerged in the deaths—each one clean, efficient—that I knew I was dealing with someone…

” Her gaze slides to me, a slight smile at the corner of her mouth.

“Someone worthy of my time.” She glances over her shoulder where I stand beside her, her eyebrow arching as if she’s measuring me against her words.

“By the way, your first job? Impressive.” Her smile deepens. “The nun.”

Recognition flares, the memory flooding back like a flash of light in a dark room.

I’d used a neuromuscular blockade. It’s fun with the bonus of being undetectable.

Despite being paralyzed, she remained conscious, breathing.

Able to see, feel, and hear everything. In an artistic mood, I placed her in the bathtub, slowly filling it with water.

Poor water pressure in the convent meant she had a deliciously long time to contemplate how near her end was.

To anticipate what I had in store for her, To fear for her life.

I stayed with her until the end. And just for shits and giggles, I shoved the big ass dildo I found under her bed into her mouth.

Left her to be found as if she’d gotten herself off in the bathtub, and her forbidden ecstasy had been too much for her heart.

“That was no nun,” I reply, matching her smirk.

Pheonix snorts, inelegantly, clearly less impressed or amused.

Are all the women at Umber this bitchy? First Sable now Pheonix. How the fuck does Blade tolerate them?

I ignore her. The sight of the big-boned giant of a woman disguised in a modest habit, wielding a blade hidden beneath rosary beads—flickers in my mind like an old movie reel.

Esther gives a quiet, throaty chuckle. “Of course not,” she agrees, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“But she was a problem for me at Umber. A long-time rival. Your methods reminded me of my own, back in the day.” She pauses, her fingers trailing along the cold ledgestone stone walls.

“You saved me the trouble of ordering the hit.”

Pheonix bristles. I swallow, caught off guard by the strange pride in her voice, the way she seems to appraise my skills as if they’ve passed some unspoken test. It’s disconcerting, and yet…something in me responds to it.

The elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open.

The three of us step out into what appears to be a basement.

Not the dark, grimy space I imagined. Esther leads us to a back wall and presses her palm against a random spot on the wall.

A hidden pocket door slides open, and I follow her inside as overhead lights spark to life.

“Should I be flattered?” I ask lightly, not quite disguising the edge in my tone.

“Consider it…an acknowledgment,” she replies, unruffled.

Her words hang in the damp air between us, charged with dark kinship which is unnerving and fortifying.

The walls narrow as we descend into a part of the mansion that feels like a different world, lost in shadows and stone. Finally, we come to a small, iron door at the end of a darkened passage. Esther produces a key from somewhere, and with a soft click, the door swings open.

The “playroom” matches Esther’s lethal elegance.

All gleaming steel and pristine tile, like a surgical suite designed by the Marquis de Sade.

The only pop of color is Zephyr, trussed up like a Christmas turkey in the center of the room, his face a swollen, bruised masterpiece. He’s been questioned… extensively.

“Look who came to play,” Esther announces, her voice echoing off the tiles. Her lips twist in a cruel smile, a predatory delight in her eyes. “The woman you’ve been manipulating for years. How’s that working out for you, dear boy?”

Zephyr spits blood and tries for his usual smirk. It’s weak and pathetic with his face swollen like a prize fighter’s.

“Kiera, baby, this is all just a big misund?—”

I silence him with a swift, brutal backhand that sends his head snapping to the side. Phoenix whistles softly, appreciating the retribution if not who delivered it. I glance her way and her cool collected demeaner has become a deadly mask of anger. She’s livid.

“The only thing I want to hear from you is who’s really pulling your strings at Umber.” I purr, my voice a low thrum. Finally, a moment that actually feels solid and real. Feels fucking good. I lean in close, letting him see the darkness dancing behind my eyes. “And honey? I’ve got all night.”

“You should tell her,” Esther comments, examining her perfectly manicured nails. “I’ve seen what she did to that nun. Very… creative.”

“That was nothing,” My skin tingles with anticipation as I trail my knife along Zephyr’s jawline. “I’ve learned so much since then. It’s so good of you to volunteer for a demonstration.”

He tries to hold my gaze, but his confidence falters.

“Look, please… it was Colton,” he stammers, his voice slipping into desperation.

“I swear, I can prove it. He’s the one who set Kiera up, who wanted to ruin Blade’s life.

I was just… following orders.” His voice turns into a plea, and he looks between us, imploring.

“I’m begging you. Please believe me. It was Colton.

He wanted to kill you. To hurt Blade. He set this up. Not me. I protected you.”

Esther scoffs, the sound a venomous hiss, erasing any doubt about how she rose to power. She shakes her head slowly, her face filled with ice cold disdain.

“Begging already, are we?” Her eyes narrow, sharp as a blade. “And here I thought you had a spine.”

I step closer, deliberately circling him, my gaze locked on his as I move.

He flinches when I trail the tip of my knife along the top of his back, and his muscles tense under my touch.

The scent of his terror fills the space like a sharp acrid perfume layered over the metallic tang of his drying blood.

I lean close, my voice a whisper laced with contempt.

“You didn’t just ‘follow orders,’ Zephyr.

You enjoyed every second of ruining my life.

Savored playing with me. Wielding imaginary power.

Never admitting how small and insignificant you are,” I murmur and press the blade harder between his shoulder blades, grinning as he flinches then winces in pain. “Tell me—was it worth it?”

His face twists, pleading now, frantic.

“Kiera, I had no choice! It was either follow orders or?—”

“Or what?” Esther cuts in, her tone like ice. “Sell out everyone who trusted you, turn traitor, and then play the victim? Pathetic.” She glares at him, her eyes unyielding, her mouth curving in a merciless smile. “You’re wasting our time.”

He turns his head my way, his voice cracking. “Please, Kiera. You know me! You know I wouldn’t do this on my own. You know I want you. Colton’s the mastermind. He set us all up. Really. I?—”

His words dissolve into a strangled gasp as I brush my blade across the nape of his neck, drawing small red droplets from his flesh.

“Do you think that matters now?” I ask, my voice low, cruel. “After everything you did? After the damage you caused?” I step around him, locking eyes with Esther, who gives me a small, approving nod. I hold her gaze to get my point across when I say, “A family who slays together…”

A glint of appreciation and humor sparks and despite everything, against all odds, I see a future with my men and a scary as fuck granny.

“Ladies,” Zephyr whimpers, glancing between us, desperation turning to outright fear. “You have to save me… I-I can help you take Colton down, expose him. I’ll do anything—just let me go.”

Esther’s lips curve into a vicious smile. “Save you?” she echoes, her voice dripping with disdain.

“What would make you think we have any interest in that?”

The truth spills out of him along with several other things: names, dates, paper trails leading straight to the top of Umber’s hierarchy. Esther recorded everything, her eyes glittering with predatory satisfaction.

I stop in front of him, leaning in close so he has no choice but to look into my eyes. His eyes widen, terror finally replacing that last shred of bravado, the weight of his fate sinks in.

“I prefer poison, but for expediency and all,” I say, moving behind him and fist the top of his hair at the crown.

Sticky with product, I almost pull my hand back, disgusted.

He thrashes against the restraints, a desperate, futile struggle matching his whimpering.

Jerking his head back, I smile coldly down at him. “Don’t worry, Colton’s next.”

His pleas dissolve into a sickening gurgle and gasp.

I slice open his neck, blood flicking from the blade to land in an arc on the floor, His head falls forward, the air filling with the final, metallic tang.

I proceed to redecorate Esther’s pristine tiles with abstract expressionism in various shades of Zephyr as I plunge my knife into his heart, and his lungs long after he stops breathing.

Silence descends, heavy, suffocating. But beneath it, a chilling tide rises, cold and potent.

A surge of power floods through me, intoxicating, exhilarating.

Just for wasting so much of my life, I open his pants and pull his balls from beneath his tiny limp dick, cut them off, and shove them down the gaping hole in his throat.

“Jesus, vindictive much?” Pheonix says.

Esther holds up a hand to silence her. “Probably more action than those have seen in a long time.” She offers me a thin smile.

“Impressive. And thorough.” She remarks as I wipe my blade clean.

“You remind me more of myself every minute. If you’re finished, we should return upstairs.

My grandson is probably about to storm in looking for you.