He stilled the warning growl that rose instinctively in his chest. The smell of cold steel moved closer, the tread of cautious steps. There was only one. He was confident, but filled with fury, and weaker. Dash smiled. The man moving toward him was no more than a flunky. No threat. A hired gun and little more.
Disposable. It was a good thing because he wouldn’t leave the building alive. Silently, Dash waited. He didn’t have to wait long. The door swung open slowly, revealing the lean, tense body of the enemy. He was a man full grown. A Gamma trying to play Alpha with an animal he had no idea existed. Dash allowed his lips to curl into an anticipatory smile, knowing the other man wouldn’t see it for the lethal threat it was.
“Getting nosy, stranger?” the other man grunted as he carefully closed the door and aimed his weapon at Dash’s chest. “Put your hands up where I can see them, and don’t move funny or you’re dead.”
Dash lifted his arms, hands behind his neck, the fingers of one hand curling around the hilt of the large knife concealed in its sheath between his shoulder blades. Oh yeah. Now he could play.
“Just checking some things out.” Dash narrowed his eyes, aware of the gun barrel’s angle, straight to the heart.
A silencer had been attached to the barrel. He was a cautious bastard; Dash gave him credit for that. But only for that. Otherwise, he was less than smart. He should have realized the threat Dash was and killed him instantly. If he could. Instead, he wanted to play. Dash liked to play. And he knew for a certainty that his opponent would fall. It was the way of the beast. He could sense the weakness facing him. Overconfidence glittered in the enemy’s eyes as the need for pain scented the air around him.
“Who are you?” Beady eyes narrowed. Thick, oily brown hair fell forward, framing a less than intelligent forehead.
“No one important.” Dash shrugged as he allowed his lips to curl with insulting mockery. He refused to give respect to a creature so lacking in morality that he would kill a child. “Who are you?”
Dash watched the other man closely, the shift of the lanky body beneath the ill-fitting, though expensive, coat he wore, the confident manner in which he held his weapon. The other man was used to killing and he was used to doing it the lazy way. He wouldn’t expect to face a man of Dash’s capabilities. It was almost too easy, Dash sighed. It was a shame; he would have enjoyed a fight.
“You’re being too nosy, dude.” The surf boy accent grated on Dash’s nerves. The casual disrespect of the attitude was reason enough to kill him.
“Not nosy enough maybe.” Dash watched the other man’s gaze carefully as he allowed his smug smile to deepen. “She got away from you again, didn’t she? Elizabeth ’s smarter than you are, dude. Back off now, before I have to take you down.”
The challenge was made. Dash made certain the insulting derision in his voice was clearly understood. There was no fight here, no conflict. The enemy’s blood would be spilled, period. Angry color filled the other man’s cheeks, his brown eyes glittering with the need for violence as he stepped closer. He would want to be closer, Dash thought, to be certain the bullet killed rather than maimed. To watch the pain and fear he hoped to see spilling into Dash’s eyes as the blood spilled from his chest.
“She’ll be a tasty treat to the rest of us when we give that little girl to the boss,” he sneered. “You like her too, big boy? Too bad. You’re dead.”
The other man thought he was close enough. His finger was tightening on the trigger. The knife slid from the leather sheath with a whisper as Dash swung his arm, wrist twisting at the last second, dragging the blade across the tender flesh of the enemy’s neck. The other man’s eyes widened in surprise even as his jugular split beneath the blade.
“No, dude. You’re dead.” He allowed the animalistic rumble free, glorying in the smell of blood, the bite of triumph.
Dash slid to the side as the reflexive clench of muscle tightened the man’s fingers on the trigger, sending a bullet whizzing harmlessly past him as blood pumped in a wide, vivid arc, splattering across the sleeve of Dash’s custom-made leather jacket.
The body fell heavily, sightless eyes staring back in macabre astonishment as the crimson wash of blood spilling over the cement floor widened beneath his head.
There was no remorse in Dash’s heart for the death. Some animals were just plain rabid in the soul, and this one was one of them. There could be no regret for putting the world out of the misery they brought. Casually, he dragged the blade of the knife over the dead man’s shoulder, cleaning it quickly before checking the body for any information he could use. There was a phone number on the back of a wrinkled blank business card. No name. Dash tucked the card into his inner jacket pocket. Money. He tossed it by the body. A message to his boss, keys, a picture of the little girl and her mother. This, Dash tucked away as well.
Seconds later, confident that the man carried nothing that could be traced back toElizabeth , Dash rose to his feet, replaced the knife and used a discarded towel on one of the machines to clean the sleeve of his jacket. He threw it over the face of the dead man before striding to the door. He jimmied the lock before closing it behind him, making certain it couldn’t be opened easily. The apartment building echoed with the laughter of families, of children. He didn’t want to chance a child walking in on the bloody scene, or an innocent bystander taking the blame for the death. Not that he thought there would be many who would feel the loss of the man he had killed. Dash stalked back to the front entryway into the frigidly cold December evening. As though he had nothing better to do he ambled around the building, heading for the alley in the back, hoping to pick up more information there. Elizabeth and Cassie had gone out the window that led into this alley. He doubted he would find much, but he had to check to be certain. Being cautious had gotten him this far; he wasn’t going to slacken now.
He didn’t see the navy blue sedan she was driving, thankfully. At least they were in the warmth in the vehicle rather than the biting cold of the frigid winter air. He knelt in front of the open window of the basement, surveying the displaced snow beneath it. The footsteps were barely visible now as they led to a set of tire tracks a few feet over. No, they weren’t too far ahead of him if the tracks in the snow were any indication. And if he wasn’t mistaken the bastards chasing them, minus the one he had just killed, were still watching the building. His hackles had risen the moment he stepped from the front door. Dash looked around carefully as he rose to his full height and began checking out the tire marks along the wide alley. From the looks of it they had left in a hurry. Checking the prints he was fairly certain it matched the sedan and it headed into the heart of town. He sighed deeply as he stared into the twilight sky. Snow peppered his cheeks and forehead, and the smell of the air indicated a blizzard was well on its way.