canned plums?”
Even from this far away, Elektra could see Abby roll her eyes in amusement. “Dad, you are such a sugar junkie.”
“What?” he asked defensively. “I used to love these when I was a kid.”
Abby smiled but didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, instead of talking about breakfast, she asked, “When am I gonna see Grandma?”
Elektra saw Mark’s shoulders rise as he inhaled. “I don’t know, honey. Soon…I hope. Soon.”
Crouching above the window, Elektra pressed her lips together, growing more and more angry with herself for not just doing it, taking the two shots and getting this over with. But no, the timing wasn’t right, something wasn’t right…at least that’s what she tried to convince herself of as she finally moved away from the window. Still telling herself she could go with the shots, aloud she was muttering to herself. “Come on, damn it—just… push. Push.” She started to repeat herself, but all her air was gone, and she just couldn’t do it.
Out of the corner of her eye as she left, she saw Mark and Abby suddenly freeze. Had they sensed her out there? Had they heard her?
Without warning, Abby spun, fast, and made for the door. Her dad grabbed her before she could get there.
“Dad, let me,” she said urgently. “I’m—”
Time to go.
He shook his head. “Stay here,” he told her as he leaned over the sink and peered out the window.
But by the time he focused on the foliage outside, there was nothing to see but empty green, and nothing for him to do but exchange worried glances with his daughter.
Enough of this, Elektra thought as she stormed back into the warm front room of the beach house. She was absolutely furious with herself for not being able to do what she was supposed to. For God’s sake, it was almost as if she couldn’t even think the phrase, use the words in her own mind. Well, damn it, she could—she had to kill them, both of them. She was the assassin—the paid assassin—and they were her targets. She’d never met them before yesterday, and she shouldn’t care if they were alive tomorrow.
She strode to the closet and yanked out the tall box, then pried it open and began assembling the contents. The Martin Cougar Elite compound bow took shape rapidly beneath her experienced hands, and she barely had to think about what went where. This one had a hand-held trigger and a telescopic sight that made it almost as accurate as a firearm and could send an arrow off at nearly three hundred feet per second. She hated herself for admitting a weakness, but maybe if she could put some distance between her and her two marks— enough to where she didn’t have to hear them chatter at each other and therefore didn’t have to remember that they were people, people with whom she’d shared a Christmas dinner—maybe then she could do her job and end it the way she ought to.
With a final tightening of the limb bolts, Elektra shouldered the Martin and stood. As she grabbed a half dozen aluminum arrows, Elektra realized she’d be leaving a mess, a telltale sign of her presence here, if she didn’t clean up.
Too bad. She couldn’t worry about that right now. Right now she had to do something to stop the erosion of her own abilities.
Right now, she had to kill.
It took her less than five minutes to get back to Mark’s property, although this time she was well out of range of hearing, no matter how sensitive either of them might be. They were such innocent victims, the worst kind—only the inexperienced kept their curtains spread wide, only the most ignorant didn’t realize that doors and windows should be locked and covered at all times. As they had earlier, Mark and Abby wandered at will across the line of Elektra’s sight, easy prey for the killer neither had any idea was waiting outside.
Down on one knee, Elektra brought up the compound bow and pulled back on the bowstring, inhaling as she pulled against a nearly sixty-five pound draw
Even from this far away, Elektra could see Abby roll her eyes in amusement. “Dad, you are such a sugar junkie.”
“What?” he asked defensively. “I used to love these when I was a kid.”
Abby smiled but didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, instead of talking about breakfast, she asked, “When am I gonna see Grandma?”
Elektra saw Mark’s shoulders rise as he inhaled. “I don’t know, honey. Soon…I hope. Soon.”
Crouching above the window, Elektra pressed her lips together, growing more and more angry with herself for not just doing it, taking the two shots and getting this over with. But no, the timing wasn’t right, something wasn’t right…at least that’s what she tried to convince herself of as she finally moved away from the window. Still telling herself she could go with the shots, aloud she was muttering to herself. “Come on, damn it—just… push. Push.” She started to repeat herself, but all her air was gone, and she just couldn’t do it.
Out of the corner of her eye as she left, she saw Mark and Abby suddenly freeze. Had they sensed her out there? Had they heard her?
Without warning, Abby spun, fast, and made for the door. Her dad grabbed her before she could get there.
“Dad, let me,” she said urgently. “I’m—”
Time to go.
He shook his head. “Stay here,” he told her as he leaned over the sink and peered out the window.
But by the time he focused on the foliage outside, there was nothing to see but empty green, and nothing for him to do but exchange worried glances with his daughter.
Enough of this, Elektra thought as she stormed back into the warm front room of the beach house. She was absolutely furious with herself for not being able to do what she was supposed to. For God’s sake, it was almost as if she couldn’t even think the phrase, use the words in her own mind. Well, damn it, she could—she had to kill them, both of them. She was the assassin—the paid assassin—and they were her targets. She’d never met them before yesterday, and she shouldn’t care if they were alive tomorrow.
She strode to the closet and yanked out the tall box, then pried it open and began assembling the contents. The Martin Cougar Elite compound bow took shape rapidly beneath her experienced hands, and she barely had to think about what went where. This one had a hand-held trigger and a telescopic sight that made it almost as accurate as a firearm and could send an arrow off at nearly three hundred feet per second. She hated herself for admitting a weakness, but maybe if she could put some distance between her and her two marks— enough to where she didn’t have to hear them chatter at each other and therefore didn’t have to remember that they were people, people with whom she’d shared a Christmas dinner—maybe then she could do her job and end it the way she ought to.
With a final tightening of the limb bolts, Elektra shouldered the Martin and stood. As she grabbed a half dozen aluminum arrows, Elektra realized she’d be leaving a mess, a telltale sign of her presence here, if she didn’t clean up.
Too bad. She couldn’t worry about that right now. Right now she had to do something to stop the erosion of her own abilities.
Right now, she had to kill.
It took her less than five minutes to get back to Mark’s property, although this time she was well out of range of hearing, no matter how sensitive either of them might be. They were such innocent victims, the worst kind—only the inexperienced kept their curtains spread wide, only the most ignorant didn’t realize that doors and windows should be locked and covered at all times. As they had earlier, Mark and Abby wandered at will across the line of Elektra’s sight, easy prey for the killer neither had any idea was waiting outside.
Down on one knee, Elektra brought up the compound bow and pulled back on the bowstring, inhaling as she pulled against a nearly sixty-five pound draw
Similar Books
