James slips back into sleep and rolls away. I stare up at the ceiling, taking measured breaths, allowing my thoughts to flow past like clouds.
Nila and Blue both shift at the same time. They raise their heads, looking toward the door. I follow their attention. The sound of bare feet on tile reaches me. Mulberry is up early.
My bedroom door creeps open. Mulberry’s familiar form slips into the room. He closes the door and turns the lock. My heart rate picks up. Nila jumps lithely off the bed and meets him. Her nose brushes his hand.
Mulberry does not acknowledge her, turning toward the windows. The faint light of dawn coming through the break in the curtains catches on his stubble-roughened jaw, clenched tight. His shoulders are tense under the black T-shirt he’s wearing. There is a pistol in his right hand.
My heart starts to pound. I sit up on an elbow, needing to move but also not wanting to wake James.
Mulberry closes the narrow gap between the curtains, snuffing out the light. “What’s going on?” I whisper.
“A breach on the south perimeter. Someone is here. Looks like just one person.”
The Prisoner flipping and spiraling through empty space toward the jungle below blooms in my mind. “An assassin,” I guess. Simon or whatever the fuck his name is lied to me.
“Possibly,” Mulberry answers. “Whoever they are, one of the dogs was alerted and sent an alarm. But the sentry on duty is in the infirmary.”
I take in a deep breath, guilt clutching my throat. “Simon knows about it,” I whisper.
Mulberry nods. “Yeah, I thought we’d go see him after we secure the situation.”
I slip out of the bed, crossing to my dresser. Blue follows. Frank continues to snore. “I’m joining the hunt,” I say.
Mulberry doesn’t say a word. I glance over my shoulder at him. He’s standing at the foot of the bed, his expression impossible to read in the darkness. “Take Blue and Nila,” he says.
“You’re not going to argue?”
“Do you want me to?”
“No,” I say quickly.
“I’ve got a security crew of three coming over to help guard James.”
Guilt churns in my gut again. My presence here is putting people in danger. Clenching my jaw, I keep moving. Life isn’t safe no matter how you play it. Better to play it all out. I didn’t ask for an assassin to come at me. But now that one is here, I will deal with them myself. Blue’s wet nose brushes my hip.
Simon’s words come back to me. He isn’t here for you. I assumed that meant the last assassin was there for Declan. Was he there for Simon? Is this one here for him too?
I dress quickly and turn back to Mulberry. He hasn’t moved. I cross to him in socked feet. “See you soon,” I promise.
His arm comes around my waist, warm and steady, as he leans in for a kiss. A kiss goodbye. We are good at these. He doesn’t hold back. Our embrace in the stairwell on the Island invades my mind. It’s the same rough stubble, the same heat, the same parting to confront danger. But we are both so different. “Go get ’em, tiger,” he whispers against my lips.
I suppress a laugh, not wanting to wake James. Mulberry winks. I roll my eyes and pull away. Blue falls into step on my left and Nila on my right as I leave the room. The lock thunks back into place as I move to the hall closet where we keep the weapons locked up.
The door is open and the safe unlocked. Mulberry knew I’d be coming. I’m wearing the standard uniform around here, black T-shirt and cargo pants. I’ll lace my boots up tight over the bottom of the pants so no creepy crawlers can sneak up my leg.
I pull two pistols and put them in my leg pockets. The lipstick taser I never got to use on Prisoner slips between my breasts again. I settle my knives into the sheaths at my waist. Pulling one of the radios from the case, I slip the earpiece in and hook the receiver at my low back.
I close the safe door and spin the dial—no reason to leave the rest of the weapons available to any assassins passing by.
Nila’s nose brushes my right hand as I move to the front door and my boots waiting there.
The dawn is cool and wet, the sky a clouded pewter. A strong breeze carries the scent of soil and rain. Pulling one of the pistols, I turn the radio on, keeping it low. The chatter fills my left ear as I leave the lit path and break into a jog, angling toward one of the running routes Merl and I use. Blue and Nila flank me, matching my pace.
It’s pitch black as we follow the path into the jungle; I let the two dogs’ touch keep me on the path. My eyes slowly adjust, revealing hints of graphite in the blackness. The vegetation around me is alive with sound. The chaos of insects, saying goodbye to the night. One last song, one last call into the dark.
The path is soft, my pace measured, breaths even. The running route takes us around the compound without entering what is considered the perimeter. Through the trees I can see the lights of the palapa. There are people moving inside, the lights bright, flying insects swirling around them.
Through the radio I hear they are securing my villa and the infirmary and arms caches, while also sending out search parties—pairs of heavily armed vigilantes searching the jungle for one person. I keep moving, instinct driving me toward Simon’s villa.
I’m not a good team player. If there is no assassin stalking outside his prison, I will let Merl tell me what to do. But I don’t want to scare this fucker off. I want to catch them and get some information.
We pass the main part of the compound and the path grows darker without the ambient light. Blue and Nila tap my thighs at each step. I slow as the trail angles back toward the compound. The soft glow of a lighted path is about twenty yards ahead of us.
Simon’s villa is to the right, only another thirty yards once we leave the jungle. We walk slowly, my eyes scanning the darkness. The vegetation shudders in a breeze. Blue stops, his nose dropping to the ground.
He sniffs quick short breaths. Nila joins him. Their white fur glows luminous in the thick blackness. I breathe in through my nose and catch the earthy sweet scent of fresh-cut plants. Blue moves to the edge of the path. There is a disturbance in the brush. I reach out to find cut branches—hacked with a blade. Someone came through here.
“Find them,” I whisper. Blue puts his nose to the ground and moves in front of me. I follow; Nila moves back to my side. Her warmth is a welcome presence. Blue leads us toward the compound, toward the lit path. My grip on my pistol tightens and anticipation tingles along my spine.
We step out of the darkness into early dawn. Thick voluminous clouds of silver and ash hang low. Wind rushes around us, the clouds churn above. Blue keeps his nose to the ground, leading us toward Simon’s villa. It comes into view. The door is open—the interior pure black.
I stop. Blue takes a few more steps before realizing that I’m no longer moving. I stare at the empty space—the square of darkness. Should I wait? Let the killer end Simon. My heart thuds hard in my chest as thoughts swirl in my mind. It would save me having to decide what to do about him.
No, fuck that. If anyone is going to kill Simon Smith it’s going to be me. The man might be a betraying sack of shit. But he’s mine. I move onto the grass and start to jog toward the villa. Blue puts his nose back down and trots ahead of me, leading the way.
The assassin stayed on the path but I’m jogging through the wet grass, silencing my approach. The hitperson will probably be dressed like a Joyful Justice member. I need to be careful not to be too rash. Maybe one of our people hacked through the jungle following the killer’s scent and is already in there.
But there is nothing about that on the radio…then again…I have not reported my activity to Merl either. It’s too late now. We are close enough to the villa that someone inside could hear. I turn the volume on the radio all the way down, then silently call Blue back to my side. We move away from the path, hunkering down next to a decorative bush to the side of the open doorway.
There are no lights on inside. Simon’s room is still dark. Nila’s nose brushes my shoulder and her tail gives a wide wag. Blue lies flat, his belly in the wet grass. I close my eyes to listen.
Birds squawk, chirp, and twitter to tell the world the sun is here. The bright globe may be hidden by the storm, but the birds know that it is here.
Thunder rumbles and the scent of ozone grows stronger. The first pitter-patter of rain slaps the leaves. All chance of hearing anything subtle from inside is gone. I open my eyes. Rain darkens the steps in splotches. It hits my exposed skin and soaks through my T-shirt.
I take a breath and watch the doorway.
There is no other way to get into the villa. This is why Merl locked Simon up in this one. The front door is the only way in or out because it is cantilevered over a steep ledge. That helps with views and imprisonment. Funny how that works out. The same things that feel like luxury can be the things that trap us.
I start to rise but then pause. What if Simon is in on this? What if the assassin isn’t here to kill Simon but to free him and then come at me? Fuck. It’s possible. The idea that he wanted to become a vigilante instead of a well-paid master of deception—such a douchey title—only works if the man really is in love with me. Which…
The way he kissed me comes back into my mind scorching itself across my lips. He could fake it. He could fake anything. That’s his whole thing. He’s a liar. A really excellent liar.
It didn’t feel like lies. It never did.
Oh fuck this, only one way to find out. I start to move toward the darkness, ready for whatever I find inside.