Page 59 of Brian and Mina's Holiday Hits
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m only accompanying Mr. Sloan for the evening,” I say, playing into the escort rumor and trying to sound as stupid and vapid as possible.
I relax when I feel Brian behind me, his hands sliding around my waist.
“Brian,” Dante says, nodding. “Good to see you. I trust everything is in order.”
I’m sure Brian nods, and probably gives Dante a glare for good measure, but I don’t see him because I’m still looking at Dante. My breath comes in sharply, as Brian presses a kiss to the side of my throat, then he takes my hand to lead me away.
“You too have fun, tonight,” Dante says with a weird creepy laugh.
“Let’s kill him,” I say under my breath.
Brian only chuckles, as he leads me through the crowd. I admire the view of his broad back in the tuxedo, and suddenly I’m thinking about getting it off of him.
He guides me down several hallways, and I allow myself to be pulled inside one of the rooms.
“Where are we?” I ask. The room is dark except for the small strips of moonlight coming in.
Brian pushes me against the wall, his mouth on mine, and my nerves slowly slide away as his hands move down my body.
THIRTY-ONE
brian
Fifteen minutes ago.
I haven’t been able to get Windsor alone all evening. I had thought it would be easy to lure him away, but his security detail tonight is even more intense than it was on the night of the cocktail party. And he’s constantly got important people around him wanting to discuss important things. So he certainly has no time for the likes of me. It would look suspicious if he put these people off to talk to a complete stranger who doesn’t seem particularly important in comparison to themselves.
I grab a gun and one of the knives my target allowed me to hide throughout the house. I was careful to stash weapons without marks or prints, that hadn’t been used in any kill before, with no provenance or traceability. I get all my weapons on the dark web… mostly ghost guns, but some are standard with the serial numbers filed off. Every bullet was inserted with gloves on, so not even a fingerprint on a shell casing will be left behind. I have thought of everything, just in case there’s some sort of double cross waiting for me.
I would never blindly trust that I could just leave weapons at his house. I made sure there was no security footage rolling—or hidden cameras—while I planted them, and I’ve checked again tonight to make sure the state of things remains the same. Everything is clear and clean and ready. The only problem is, I can’t get the target alone. If I thought it would do any good, I’d try to get Mina to seduce him into my trap.
Dante is at this party. I don’t know why he’d accept an invitation from his target when they seem locked in this tug-of-war of who can kill who first. Nothing about any of this smells right, but it’s far too late to pull the plug. Plus I don’t want to. I feel genuine glee at the prospect of killing Drake Windsor tonight. And Halloween is the only holiday I like. The one night of the year that celebrates death and puts a glittering orange bow on it, so of course I have to celebrate with blood.
I slip away from the party and make my way to the second floor study. I wasn’t kidding about that fountain pen. It’ll be my most extravagant trophy so far. Maybe I’ll use it to write the condolence card for the flowers I send to his funeral. I slip on a pair of black gloves before trying the door. I don’t expect it to be unlocked, but I try anyway.
It’s not. I retrieve a lock picking kit from my pocket and get to work. A few minutes later I’m in. I open the drawer to find the Montblanc pen inside its case. The last time I killed for Windsor, he told me about the history of this pen. It is one of only 81 ever made after the death of Prince Rainier of Monaco. The body of the pen is 18k white gold and there are eight carats worth of inlaid diamonds and rubies. Incredibly this is far from the most expensive fountain pen in the world, but it still irritates me that anyone would own such a thing.
I take the case with the pen and slip it in my inside jacket pocket. I’ve just stepped out into the hallway when I find Drake Windsor himself coming out of the bathroom… without his security detail. He slipped his own guard for the pleasure of a few short moments of freedom to piss in peace, and here we are.
He eyes me warily, sizing up what to him probably now looks like a hungry wolf seeing dinner. I think for a moment that he’ll run. It would be the wisest choice, but I’d still catch him. I’m far younger and in far better shape.
“Sloan, you surprised me. Have you done it yet?”
“No, not yet. Just about to.”
He takes a step back that I don’t think he’s even conscious he’s taken. I reach out and grab him by the collar and shove him back into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me.
“Brian, what… why? It’s nine million dollars. Dante is only paying you two!”
“You know about the contract?”
“Of course I know. I have a mole inside Dante’s organization. He isn’t as smart as he thinks he is.”
“Well, judging by your current predicament, neither are you.”
I hold him by the throat against the wall. He claws at me, but he can’t even escape my weaker hand.
“If you had a mole, why didn’t you gethimto kill Dante?”
