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Ice spun just as a man holding a gun toppled to the floor with a loud crack. The knife the slender man threw protruded from the guy’s throat.
Had he been caught in the middle of a fucking war?
Ice flicked his gaze over the gunman on the floor.
A scar ran diagonal from his mouth, to his chin, and along his jaw. The man was without a doubt Michelle’s stalker.
Ice kicked the gun further away just in case the guy was still breathing. Had the asshole come to murder him?
“Shit,” Ice breathed and ran a hand over his mouth, the bathroom door swung slowly closed until it caught on the stalker’s shoes.
Ice turned back to the slender man.
He hadn’t expected the guy to be standing so close and Ice froze, and for some odd reason, his pulse jumped. The man reached down and took the knife from the dead stalker’s throat with a slight squelching sound and stepped past him to reach for the door.
“Wait,” Ice said, touching the man’s arm.
The knife came up fast and painfully sliced at Ice’s forearm, opening a nice five-inch gash.
“Fuck,” Ice gasped and stumbled back, clutching at his arm, trying to stop the bleeding.
He was left staring at the empty doorway.
“Shit,” he muttered and quickly checked the pulse on both bodies even though he knew they were dead.
The skill with which the man used to dispatch both men had been impressive.
The guy had to be an assassin.
“Care to share?”
Ice stopped gazing out the window of Stone’s apartment and sighed. The place was in a nicer part of Santa Barbara and he could see the ocean from its location.
“I think I ran into an assassin,” Ice said.
Stone stared at him before turning his attention back to his arm.
“So…you still keep in touch with our former employer?”
Stone glanced up briefly and shrugged. “No.”
“Cut the crap. I know you didn’t quit. You’re still involved with Erebus.” Ice deliberately said the name, knowing it would get a rise out of his friend. “Owe!” he hissed when Stone slapped the bandage on his arm with force when he mentioned the underground network of assassins.
“So… who was it I ran into?” Ice wasn’t giving up that easily on getting information. If anyone could help him track down the man who’d sliced him, Stone could. Stone could also tell him if the guy did not work for Erebus. Either way, Ice would find the knife-wielding man—he had a score to settle.
“The cut isn’t too deep, just keeping it wrapped ought to do the trick,” Stone said and started with white gauze over the bandage and followed that up with surgical tape.
“It hurts like fucking hell,” he mumbled. He’d have to go in to get tested—there was no fucking telling what was on the assassin’s blade aside from the blood of the two dead men.
“It could have been a lot worse. You don’t even need stitches.”
“So… this guy, he stands about five feet ten inches, slender build, dark eyes and black hair that hangs in his face. Asian features. He’s lethal, and I mean fucking deadly with a knife.”
Stone’s gray eyes flicked up and then back down, but Ice had seen the flicker of surprise.
“He’s an assassin, isn’t he?” Ice probed.
After a long moment, Stone nodded. “Sounds like it.”
