Page 52 of Brian and Mina's Holiday Hits
“It is on Halloween. This is just a cocktail party. Just a little reconnaissance.”
I unzip the garment bag to find a black floor length evening gown. He glances down at the Longines watch he liberated from the Stryker building back in July. Though it isn’t cheap, it’s certainly nothing close to a high-end luxury watch, and Brian doesn’t generally care much about that anyway. I’m sure he’s only wearing it because it’s a trophy from our last kills.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” he says, “Party starts in an hour.”
Thanks for the notice, Brian.
I pull the invitation from the envelope and scan it. “So how did you get invited to this again?”
“The same way I’m on the guest list for the Halloween Masquerade Ball.”
I’m actually not completely sure how that happened, either.
Off my expression, he says, “I know Drake Windsor.”
I stare at Brian, waiting for a punch line that never arrives. Heknowsthe target?
“If you know him already, why do you need the murder wall?” I wave an arm dramatically at the wall in question.
“Distance. It’s more dangerous to take a job where you know the target. Too easy to get sloppy and leave a trail. But there are five other contract killers who’ve been invited to tonight’s party, so when it does happen, suspicions will be spread out.”
“How do you know him?” I ask, skimming right past the fact that this Windsor guy seems to be cozy with at least six contract killers.
Brian arches a brow and points at the dress I’m still half staring at. I begin to strip out of my Queen of the Damned uniform and get into the evening gown.
“Happy?” I ask, once dressed.
His gaze sweeps over my body in that predatory way that still sends a shiver down my spine.
“Very.” He rotates his finger in the air. “Turn.”
I turn and pull my hair up for him to zip the dress. His tongue trails up my back just ahead of the zipper, then he slides a hand between my legs, and I open for him. If I had any doubts before, I have none now about why this dress has such a high side slit.
“Take off your panties,” he growls in my ear.
“W-why? We’re going to be late.”
He smacks my ass with his other hand. “You’re being such a bad girl right now.”
“Brian…”
“Because I want easy access at the party tonight.”
His words send a bolt of desire through me even more potent than what his hand between my thighs commands.
“How do you know Drake?” I ask again, leaning back against him. He presses open mouthed kisses over my throat, playing at the edges of my collar that most people outside the house believe to be just a nice piece of jewelry. The platinum filigree choker, inlaid with onyx stones to match my grandmother’s ring really does go with everything.
“I’ve done a few jobs for him in the past,” Brian says.
I pull back and spin around to face him. “What?!?”
“How else would he know so many professionals?” He says this as though the only profession in the world is murder for hire.
“So now you all are fighting to be the one to kill him?”
Brian shrugs. “It’s just business.”
I think there’s more to it, but I let it go.