close she whispered. “There is no helping me. I only want what you have, brother and promi[1]te,”
she said, apologizing. “But, I have to kill you. I’m sure you understand. It’s just business after all, and be honest, you ordered my own killing”
His eyes widened and blood pooled at his mouth. He tried to reach out to his desk.
She stabbed his arm, excitement coursing through her. Many believed stabbing was a man’s sport, but she was finding she liked it.
Freud would undoubtedly argue, but really, what did a knife have to do with a penis. It was merely a weapon. One she found she liked.
“Now, now, you don’t want it to end too soon. I have a present for you after all.”
She turned his chair to face the computer, but left him away from the desk so he would not be able to hit his alarm he’d installed. With a few quick taps on the keys she opened her own file. “Now look here, Viktor. You remember that man you trust so much with all your business.…” A photograph of Dimitri Petrolov popped on screen. Then faded into another photo of him but with different hair, then again into another man with a blond beard. The pictures changed from one to another until she clicked the cursor on her favorite.S
he watched her brother blink, cough. “What … is … this?”
“This is my parting gift to you. You might not know these, all these are the same man. Can you guess who?” She glanced at him, saw more blood pooling at his mouth.
“No, guess not. Mr. Petrolov, or whoever he claims to be, is a mirror.” She walked behind his chair. The metallic scent of blood teased her nose. Leaning close, she said, “An illusion. My sources tell me he’s with a government agency. Either the Americans or Brits. Very sketchy.” She chuckled. “Of course, I plan to uncover all the truth.” His complexion had gone white, and rage glittered in his eyes. She laughed. “You want another secret? Some of your hits he never even carried out. He faked them.” She licked his ear, then whispered, “He lied to you and he betrayed you.”
She straightened, saw the blood on her white gloves and plunged the blade into the side of his neck while he was too busy studying the man in black fatigues and an assault rifle, on the computer screen.
Standing behind and to the side of him, she jerked the letter opener free. Blood splattered across her white gloved hand and shot in a stream across to their right arcing across the wall. She tossed the letter opener into his lap, hurried around the desk, pulling off her stained leather gloves. Carefully, she dropped them into her purse and donned her white coat. Looking at her hands, she noted they were mostly clean and with the sleeves of the coat, no one could see the sleeves of her suit. At the doorway she paused, checking her reflection in the mirror. Her braid was still in place, she pursed her lips and wiped a small red speckle off her cheek. She grinned and then chuckled.
In the mirror she could see her brother’s body twitch. Stupid devil. His problem with her had been that he’d always underestimated her. The room reeked of blood and she turned.
The letter opener had slid in so easily after the first break of skin. She’d always 41
loved the feel of a blade, the warmth of blood. A shiver danced down her back.
Shrugging, she walked to the corner of the room and pressed the hidden button in the light sconce. A small panel opened. She opened her purse, took out her key ring complete with the little flashlight attachment and pressed the center, lighting the dark passage beyond. Elianya stepped through, pressed the switch on this side, the door swooshing shut behind her.
She walked down the hidden spiral staircase her brother had built into the wall in case the need ever arose, her heels clicking on the stairs. Place needed airing. Her nose tingled from the dust. The passage opened in an alcove in an employee area off the bar.
The music thrummed through the air. She quickly
she said, apologizing. “But, I have to kill you. I’m sure you understand. It’s just business after all, and be honest, you ordered my own killing”
His eyes widened and blood pooled at his mouth. He tried to reach out to his desk.
She stabbed his arm, excitement coursing through her. Many believed stabbing was a man’s sport, but she was finding she liked it.
Freud would undoubtedly argue, but really, what did a knife have to do with a penis. It was merely a weapon. One she found she liked.
“Now, now, you don’t want it to end too soon. I have a present for you after all.”
She turned his chair to face the computer, but left him away from the desk so he would not be able to hit his alarm he’d installed. With a few quick taps on the keys she opened her own file. “Now look here, Viktor. You remember that man you trust so much with all your business.…” A photograph of Dimitri Petrolov popped on screen. Then faded into another photo of him but with different hair, then again into another man with a blond beard. The pictures changed from one to another until she clicked the cursor on her favorite.S
he watched her brother blink, cough. “What … is … this?”
“This is my parting gift to you. You might not know these, all these are the same man. Can you guess who?” She glanced at him, saw more blood pooling at his mouth.
“No, guess not. Mr. Petrolov, or whoever he claims to be, is a mirror.” She walked behind his chair. The metallic scent of blood teased her nose. Leaning close, she said, “An illusion. My sources tell me he’s with a government agency. Either the Americans or Brits. Very sketchy.” She chuckled. “Of course, I plan to uncover all the truth.” His complexion had gone white, and rage glittered in his eyes. She laughed. “You want another secret? Some of your hits he never even carried out. He faked them.” She licked his ear, then whispered, “He lied to you and he betrayed you.”
She straightened, saw the blood on her white gloves and plunged the blade into the side of his neck while he was too busy studying the man in black fatigues and an assault rifle, on the computer screen.
Standing behind and to the side of him, she jerked the letter opener free. Blood splattered across her white gloved hand and shot in a stream across to their right arcing across the wall. She tossed the letter opener into his lap, hurried around the desk, pulling off her stained leather gloves. Carefully, she dropped them into her purse and donned her white coat. Looking at her hands, she noted they were mostly clean and with the sleeves of the coat, no one could see the sleeves of her suit. At the doorway she paused, checking her reflection in the mirror. Her braid was still in place, she pursed her lips and wiped a small red speckle off her cheek. She grinned and then chuckled.
In the mirror she could see her brother’s body twitch. Stupid devil. His problem with her had been that he’d always underestimated her. The room reeked of blood and she turned.
The letter opener had slid in so easily after the first break of skin. She’d always 41
loved the feel of a blade, the warmth of blood. A shiver danced down her back.
Shrugging, she walked to the corner of the room and pressed the hidden button in the light sconce. A small panel opened. She opened her purse, took out her key ring complete with the little flashlight attachment and pressed the center, lighting the dark passage beyond. Elianya stepped through, pressed the switch on this side, the door swooshing shut behind her.
She walked down the hidden spiral staircase her brother had built into the wall in case the need ever arose, her heels clicking on the stairs. Place needed airing. Her nose tingled from the dust. The passage opened in an alcove in an employee area off the bar.
The music thrummed through the air. She quickly
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