Jaq’s initial scout of La Petit went quick and easy. There were two service doors, one leading into the kitchens, the other a fire door off a hallway that held the restrooms, as well as the main entrance, patio doors into the garden courtyard on the side, and a small gate into that courtyard. They’d put tables out and had planned seating in the garden area, which meant it was probably the worst of the ingresses for our purposes. The place was booked out for the opening and the twins didn’t have time to work any computer system magic to get me a table, so it looked like slipping in through the fire door was likely my best bet.
I don’t keep an extensive wardrobe, there’s nowhere to put it anyway, but I had a little black dress that could hide a Sig P365 in a thigh holster as well as four knives. The layout and timing would make the choice about if I used a knife to kill or a gun, since I doubted I’d have time and opportunity to snap the target’s neck, so I wanted to make sure I had options. Especially since this target would have at least one bodyguard who would be armed and likely wearing at least a vest.
“Keep your ear piece in,” Alma scolded me. “We won’t have eyes on things this time.”
“I don’t like it,” Cora muttered for the tenth time.
“You don’t like anything you can’t plan and cover down to the tiniest detail,” I pointed out. “And it’ll all change anyway as soon as we get in. Flexibility is good, embrace it.”
“No plan survives contact with the enemy,” Alma said in a mock-deep voice. Cora elbowed her with a glare.
“This is just starting to feel a little like Santiago to me,” Cora said.
“This is nothing like Santiago,” I said as I double-checked the magazine in my gun before sliding it into the holster. The nice thing about the Sig P365 was that despite its slim profile, light weight, and short barrel, it still held eleven shots. Nine or ten more than I expected to need, but having more bullets never hurt.
Never hurt me anyway. Couldn’t really say the same for the other guy.
“I go in when Jaq sends the signal the target is there,” I said. “Kill him, get out, we lay low for a day or two and see if any heat comes at the Rivers, fuck up a few of their guys or whatever we have to do to make them think they are still under fire from someone muscling in, and then we fade away. Don’t overthink this, Cora.”
Our Santiago job had been a clusterfuck of bad information, the client trying to take things into their own hands, and accidentally tangling with a vampire. This was nothing like that, but the term “like Santiago” had become our shorthand for going into something that was bigger and more complicated than it looked.
Marcus Cross was just a human who was about to learn that he’d terrorized the wrong woman. It would be a short lesson with no test at the end.
“Leave the ear piece in,” Alma said. “Vaya con Dios.”
I don’t believe in gods, only monsters, but the twins always said that when they were especially worried about me. I threw them both what I hoped was a reassuring smile and stepped out of the RV.
“He’s here, with a group of five. Three males, two females. They just went in.” Jaq’s voice was calm and soft in my ear pierce. We were using the mic patches the twins kept experimenting on. They were constantly trying to recreate Hollywood shit, as they called it. But it meant we could speak almost subvocally and pick it up.
I had parked my bike three blocks from the restaurant, tucking it in between two cars at an angle where I could leave quickly if I had to.
“Don’t take any risks,” I said. “I’m coming now.”
“There’s another group making their way in, I’m going to latch on behind them and see if I can get to the restroom hall. Might be able to get that door open from inside.”
“Do you need to look risk up in the dictionary?” I snarled at him as I forced myself to walk down the street at a normal pace. The black wig I was wearing itched and I was sure I’d chewed half my lipstick off by now.
“Nobody notices me, I’ll leave as soon as you are in,” Jaq said. “Hush now, go to the back door and don’t be seen. It’s the left one.”
I only had to follow my nose around the building. The kitchen smells and light was strong under the right rear door, the dumpster cage next to it nearly overwhelming me with the smell of fish and fruit that had been tossed earlier in the day and left to begin rotting in the warm afternoon. The rear was blissfully free of cameras, the restaurant not expecting trouble back in their alley.
“There’s an alarm, give me a moment,” Jaq said, his voice a buzz in my ear.
I slid silently into the most shadowed spot I could find, where the light from the kitchen door and over the trash area didn’t reach, but the light from the street nearby couldn’t quite penetrate either. Human eyes would likely miss me in the dark.
After a tense minute, the left door cracked open. Jaq slipped out and held it for me as I slipped in, letting it close behind me and making my way immediately toward the women’s bathroom.
“He’s seated at a raised table in the back I think, I only caught a glimpse of where they were being led before coming this way,” Jaq said. “I’m out, good luck.”
Two women were fixing their lipstick at the mirrors in the surprisingly spacious bathroom. I slipped into an empty stall and took a moment to breathe and close my eyes. I oriented myself from the floorplan that Cora and Alma had gotten a hold of. The bathroom hall led out behind next to the bar area toward the front. Across from this was the bank of windows and the door to the garden. The kitchens were behind the interior wall where the bar was, so if my target was seated in back, he’d be window-side. I wondered how his security felt about that.
Garden exit or charging through the kitchens was going to be my best avenues of escape in that case. I flushed the toilet since I heard heels on the bathroom tile, and left the stall. The woman went into the stall next to me, her perfume momentarily making my eyes water with floral power.
Which is how I missed the wolves.
I left the hallway, hugging the bar edge as I blinked away the reek of alcohol and daisies and whatever else that woman had drowned herself in. The restaurant was done up in white leather and dark wood, the bar a sold piece of black and gold marble that must have been a real bitch to move into place. My gaze found Marcus Cross immediately, sitting at a raised table near the windows just as Jaq had said. He looked like the family picture, but livelier, more handsome under the warm golden glow from the hand-blown glass lamps.
His elevated position gave me a clear shot if moved just a few more feet. Shooting here would provoke chaos, but I felt comfortable with it given that I had clear exits either from where I’d come or right into the kitchens. I took a deep breath, then another, moving two more steps as I slid my hand into the slit in my dress, closing fingers on my gun. Time slowed as I focused in on the prey. As though he could sense his fate, Marcus looked across the tables between us, his gaze meeting mine. He tipped his head slightly and raised an eyebrow in a “do I know you?” expression.
I took a final step closer, my hip almost colliding with the chair of the empty table in front of me. But before I could draw, a man collided with me, slamming me sideways. My ribs protested as the weight of my attacker jammed me into the bar as I twisted, trying to avoid coming off my feet. I ignored the pain and sucked in a sharp breath.
The scent of wolf-shifter flooded my nose as I grappled with him. Shouting filled my ears, some from the room, some from Cora and Alma asking what was happening in my ear piece. The wolf trying to pin me was big and shifter-strong, but hampered by his jacket and the lack of space. I slammed his head into the marble bar and shoved him away.
A glance told me that everything had gone to shit. People were standing now, some doing the panicked human shuffle, most just staring around in confusion. Too many eyes were on me and my attacker. I had no sight on Marcus anymore. If his security was good, he’d be either under the table or getting escorted out the garden doors.
The wolf-shifter recovered his balance and sprang at me. I turned and ran back the way I’d come, shoving humans into his path as I bolted down the hallway to the fire door. As soon as I was through the door, I pivoted to the side of it, drawing knives with both hands and crouching.
As I’d hoped, the wolf came through the door like he’d expected me to keep running, his arms and guard down. I slammed both knives into the backs of his thighs, hamstringing him as I dragged the blades across his flesh before yanking them free as he fell forward. When we’d grappled earlier, I’d felt the stiff weight of his body armor, so I went for the low attack. He was a shifter, I couldn’t mess around. He would know what I was the same way I knew what he was.
The wolf’s howl of pain was cut gurgling short as I sank both knives into his throat. I felt the blades scrape his vertebra, meeting steel on bone. He died staring into my eyes as we knelt together, his blood spilling hot over my hands and spattering my face.
“Kira?” Cora’s voice rang in my ear.
“Stand by,” I growled.
I dragged the wolf-shifter’s body away from the door. No one else came through it, though I could hear faint sounds of commotion and confusion from the restaurant. I wiped my knives off as best I could on his jacket and sheathed them. I gave myself the space of five careful breaths to go through the wolf’s pockets. He had keys, a phone, and a money clip instead of a wallet. I took all three and then bolted from the alley, not going for stealth, just speed. The fight had happened so quickly that it appeared no one else was coming.
I was covered in blood so I took the risk and went straight for my bike, avoiding street lights and other pedestrians as much as I could.
“It’s gone to shit,” I said to the relieved sighs of Cora and Alma in my ear.
“You okay?” Jaq asked. “I’m still nearby.”
“Get out, meet us back home,” I said.
“We got another problem? What happened?” Alma asked.
I mounted my Harley and scanned the street. “Wolves is what happened. Job’s off. We’re a no go.” I started my bike and roared out onto the street, taking the most direct route I knew to get away from this cursed town, heading toward the dunes, the sweet smell of drying blood still in my nose.