The Pleasure of Dying II

Most of the assassins in my graduating class have died already, and I had attributed most of their deaths to a lack of intuition. “Room 502 is this way.” Caleb starts to move left. He hasn’t picked up on anything unusual.

“Hush,” I say, listening with my lycanthrope hearing. Room 502 might be left, but I hear the silence that way. To the right, however, I can hear heavy male voices. I ignore Caleb’s whispered protests and start my descent down the hallway. Caleb follows me with his gun drawn like he’s finally catching on.

His breath starts to quicken as he tries to keep up with me. He stops behind me as we come up to the room with the voices. Every bone in my body tells me Jack’s inside. I remain calm, but my fingers stay firmly placed on my trigger. I look at Caleb and signal for him to remain quiet.

This is a very delicate situation because I haven’t tuned in to Gordon yet.

This is one of the moments in my life that I almost beg to change. That shedding my skin and becoming a beast would be helpful. I would just tear the door off its hinges and rip the bad guys inside to pieces.

Suddenly, the elevator chimes behind me, and it takes me off guard. I know someone’s about to be in the hall, and we both have our guns out. Caleb puts his gun away, but I remain hesitant.

I know that whoever just got out of the elevator could be a victim. I also know there’s a chance that Gordon’s coming down the hall. There is a chance that Gordon could be coming down the hallway, and he could tip off Jack. All I have is a second to think before I hear the laughter.

“Ladies, you want to play doctor, with a doctor?” A male voice approaches before a face. Not just any face, but Gordon’s face, covered in red kiss marks. His shoulders are covered in tan feminine arms.

I’m suddenly happy that I didn’t put down my gun. The only people that can save Gordon from death are the whores on his arm and Jack behind the door. Jack radiates so much heat that I know he’s powerful.

If he wanted to, nothing would stop Jack from interfering. Though for some reason he doesn’t even move. Jack has something big going on, and my wolf blood was the only thing that linked me to him. He’s a werewolf and a dangerous one at that.

Gordon notices me as soon as he looks up from one of the blonde’s open shirts. It’s probably one he unbuttoned on the ride up in the mirrored elevator. She’s a pretty girl, but noticeably a ‘working girl’. Her facial makeup makes her seem older.

She sees the gun and pulls herself away almost instantly. The other girl isn’t so lucky. Gordon grabs her as soon as her eyes meet mine. He holds her in front of himself so that Caleb can’t get his shot. He is almost the same height as her, so it’s a crafty move.

“So they sent the ass after moi eh?” Gordon says in a thick French accent. “Regular police just give up on me?”

“They chose not to underestimate you,” Caleb says, coming up beside me, “ you’re a very dangerous man.”

“Moi? dangerous?” He says bending a little so what’s left of his head isn’t exposed. I realize that he’s a lot smarter than he appears. He is a lot more capable.

“Just let her go, Gordon, we’ll take you down to the precinct.” I lie. I hate lying, but in hostage situations, it isn’t a bad response.

He looks me in the eyes and it evokes a deeper emotion in me, doom. Before I caught his eyes, I was sure I had an advantage over him. Now, I’m not sure I’m going to make it out of this hallway in one piece. “The asses don’t take mercy on anyone, what makes moi so special?” He says in his thick, annoying accent.

“Just let her go.” I keep an eye on his hand. One mistake and this situation could go down very bloody.

“Now that would be stupid of moi,” he says, holding her so tight that her pearly white DD breasts almost come out of her blouse. I have very few thoughts in my mind. One is how it must feel to die. I don’t know why I think it, but I do. I’ve killed a lot of people, and I wonder if it hurt or if they were scared.

I know how it feels to kill someone, and it doesn’t ever get easier. My last thought is practical; I think about how awful it feels to fail. I figure the worst of the three is failing, so I pull the trigger.

The girl screams and ducks just in time. I’d be lying if I told you I knew she’d be able to get out of his grip. The truth is, I would have killed her. We aren’t supposed to kill civilians, but it is commonly overlooked. The girl would just be collateral damage.

My thoughts are surreal as I check his pulse. The girls begin to cry in the background, and I block it out. The only reality is the blood pouring from the wound, and my finger still on the trigger. He looks so much older lying on the ground.

The wrinkles around the wound tell a story of a long life. His eyes look like mine. His eyes look like they’ve been aged by each kill. His eyes look like mine, and it doesn’t even faze me. Stolen and steady his eyes peer down my body.

“I’m surprised you didn’t hesitate,” Caleb says as we start to walk back to the elevator. The girls are still crying, but we don’t have time to make sure they're alright. A few people have already come out of their rooms to see who got shot.

No one seems surprised to see the A.S.S. anymore. They peer at us between cracked doorways and never utter a sound. We have all the power, and it’s beautiful. Someone will clean up the body, but Caleb has cut off the finger for proof of the kill.

“I never hesitate,” I say, pushing the down button on the outer wall of the elevator. “If you hesitate on this job, I hope it’s to pray. The bad guys don’t hesitate, and that will be you on the ground.”

“But, how’d you know the girl would duck?” He asks as the door swings open.

“I didn’t know,” I say as the door shuts behind us and I’m calmed by the silence. "I didn't care."

“You could have killed her.” He finally says, carefully avoiding my blank eyes. I look at him against the mirrored right wall, and then I stare past him. I look at my reflection, and it alone shows power. It’s the power I get after each kill. It feeds me and it fuels my wolf. It is a time to be different.

“We have to do a job, Caleb, don’t you ever forget that,” I say, closing my eyes as we hit the ground floor. "To forget that you have a job to do and that you must do anything to accomplish this job makes you just another bullet---a body on the floor."

“Are you ok, Aiden?” He says as we walk through the lobby. I write my number on a piece of paper and hand it to the girl. She grabs it with manicured fingers and tucks it between her ample, untouched cleavage.

“I’m fine,” I spout, turning back to him, “just fine.”

“Let’s get back to the office then.” He says hesitantly, “I heard this morning that we have a staff meeting today.”

I don't hate killing, but I despise staff meetings.  I sigh.