Chapter Eight

"You did what?" Dani exclaims with wide eyes.

"I don't know how it happened. One second, I was about to kill Diego and the next I was straddling Isaac on the floor. Now, I'm not even sure that I'd kill either of them if I did see them again," I jump off the bed and reach into my front pocket to grab the kill-con vial, tossing it to Dani.

"Do you really think this kill-con matters when you didn't actually kill the person it belonged to?" She angrily shakes the vial in front of her.

"I don't know, I guess I was kind of hoping I could collect the money anyway. It's not like Smith will show up to investigate my claim." I throw my hands up in the air even though I know it's a stupid plan. If Smith finds out that I didn't actually kill his targets but took millions of dollars from him, who knows what he would do. I'm also aware that I only have one of the two kill cons, and Smith didn't say he'd pay seven and a half per head, he said fifteen for both.

I drop myself down onto the corner of the bed and groan as I rip the hair tie out of my braid, combing my fingers through my hair. I don't think I've ever screwed up this badly, and I have no idea what's wrong with me. There's no rational explanation for why I didn't kill Isaac.

Dani sinks down next to me on the bed and rubs her face with her hands. Two people saw me in the astral world and lived to talk. On top of that, Diego knows far more about me than he should. He knew the Reaper belongs to Del Sur, but now he has a face to put to the name. He knows what I look like and where I live, so I'm sure Isaac does too. At this point, they could easily uncover my real name and track me down.

"Do you think they're going to tell anyone?" Dani murmurs.

"I have no idea. But they obviously knew I was coming. And I don't think either of them is a stranger to the AP. They were calculated, they knew what they were doing, and Isaac even had a weapon of his own." I stand and start to pace the worn carpet. "I think they both knew I would find them eventually. Isaac was laying low on purpose with the intent of throwing me off, so they must've caught wind of my contract with Smith somehow."

"Shit . . . we've never met anyone else who can project and bring weapons in like you do. What are the chances that someone who shares your abilities would be your target?" she asks.

"Slim to none," I answer. Something about this entire situation feels off. How does Isaac have the ability to project like me? What exactly are Diego and Isaac involved in, and why would Smith want them dead? Nothing about this adds up.

"Maybe we should try to gather some information about Smith," Dani says. "We could make up an excuse about why you haven't been able to kill the Diaz's yet and just deter him until we know what's really going on. As for Isaac and Diego . . . I don't know, B. You don't want to kill them, but if you let them live, you run the risk of exposure. Is potentially losing your anonymity worth rolling the dice?" she asks, looking up at me.

I take a deep breath and massage my temples with my fingertips, desperately wishing that I had just killed them both. I never question my clients about why they want someone dead, and I definitely don't research my clients once they've given me a job. I don't care what their motives are: I just do my job and follow the money. But then, I've also never let anyone who's seen me in the AP live.

Talk about a shit storm.

"I don't want to think about this right now. Let's go," I say, standing.

"Where are we going? It's 1:30 a.m."

"To the bar. I need to drink and get laid," I mutter, rummaging through my bags for something a little more revealing. I might not be able to solve my problems with Isaac and Diego right now, but there are two forms of accessible stress relief that I know work for me. If Isaac and Diego are smart, they are already packing their things and working on relocating. Neither of them struck me as complete idiots, so the chances of them wandering around the streets of Cartagena right now should be slim.

Anyway, what's one more stupid decision really going to cost in the grand scheme of things?

•••

4:30 a.m.

•••

"Wow . . . that was awesome . . ."

I say nothing and raise my eyebrow at the brunette American tourist breathing heavily in the motel bed next to me. A cream colored sheet lies draped across her torso and her hair is messily scattered across the pillow. I swing my legs over the edge of the mattress and start grabbing my clothing from the floor. If I linger around here much longer, I'm going to lose it.

"It was . . . something," I say as I shimmy my tight jeans up to my hips. After I was about eight shots and ten Reggaetón songs deep at the bar, I randomly selected her to be my stress reliever for the evening. She came up behind me at some point while Dani and I were dancing so I figured she was as good a choice as any. I could tell she was well just as inebriated is I was when her body was pressed against mine, and that's all I require of a temporary companion.

"Is that a switchblade? It looks really unique," I hear her ask from behind me. I reach my hand back and feel the top of the handle poking out of my pocket.

I roll my eyes and push it back in. "Yeah, it's for protection. I'd have to be an idiot to walk around alone on the streets at night as a woman without it," I lie, pulling my tank top over my head. I don't need to play twenty-one questions with some random girl I just banged.

"I see . . ." she trails off. "So are you from the states or . . ." She tries to converse again, but I cut her short.

"I'm sorry, small talk isn't really my thing, and I've got to go." I shoot her a fake smile over my shoulder, and she slowly nods. I snatch my purse from the nightstand and head towards the door to leave before this gets even more awkward.

"Uh okay . . . maybe I'll see you around if you're in town for longer? The city isn't too big," she says hopefully.

"Highly unlikely, but thanks for the sex," I say, pulling the door open. As soon as it closes behind me, I sigh with relief and walk out onto the street, littered with drunks and partygoers. I take a left and head in the direction of my hotel two blocks away, yawning with exhaustion. The drinking and mediocre sex might have temporarily taken my mind off of things, but I know that distracting myself from my problems is not a permanent solution. I've got to figure out what I am going to do about the Diaz's.

Do I call Smith and tell him I've got one kill-con in an attempt to pocket half the cash? Should I say that I've changed my mind and no longer want to take the deal at all? Should I say screw it and track down Diego and Isaac to finish the job, stuffing down the insane part of myself that allowed Isaac to live? Or, should I do nothing, allowing this entire situation to erupt in flames and see where the cosmic wind blows me?

Decisions, decisions.

I finally arrive at my hotel and climb the steps to the fourth floor, unlocking the door as quietly as I possibly can. Dani is drunkenly passed out on the bed, snoring softly. She doesn't even twitch when I enter the room. I quickly strip down to my underwear and a tank top, strapping my emerald bonded throwing knife to my bare thigh as a precautionary measure. I never go to sleep at night without an inscribed weapon on my person.

I flop down onto my bed. After a few minutes, I quell my mind enough to drift off to sleep. In my dreams, I find myself sitting on a tropical beach. My toes dangle in the water, and warm sunlight soaks into my skin. A shirtless man approaches from my left, and I grin when I recognize Isaac. I shouldn't be mentally pining over him like this since he's the enemy, but what's the harm of a little fantasizing?

He casually walks across the fine sand, clear waves gently licking and swelling at his feet. I haven't actually seen him shirtless, but my imagination fills in the blanks with tanned, glistening abs. The black ink of his sleeve tattoos weaves up his broad shoulders, and the closer he gets, the more apparent it becomes that the intricate artwork graces his perfectly toned arms in all the right places. I'd do terrible things to feel his hands on my body right now.

I lower my sunglasses, hoping this dream might lead somewhere more pleasant than my earlier one night stand. I'd bet he's much more skilled in the sack than my last lover.

But then, I notice thick fog creeping across the ocean. I narrow my eyes in confusion as the sun fades away and mist seeps across the beach, completely surrounding Isaac. He stops walking and winks at me before disintegrating entirely as a suffocating silence envelops the beach.

I stand and swallow the lump in my throat, uneasy at my pleasant dream's dark turn. A cold chill creeps up my spine as I take a few steps back in the now icy sand. Suddenly, an all too familiar voice surrounds me, and every hair on my body stands on end.