Page 11 of Lethal Weakness

Until the man rises to his feet, and ever so subtly, in a way only another male might pick up on, adjusts the erection behind the zipper in his dress pants.

Their conversation covers my approach, and as soon as Linden and Avery turn their backs, my new prey is swallowed into the darkness with me.

It only takes a hand over his mouth to keep him silent because his body is so weak and pliant. Hardly a man at all.

I drag him behind the pool shed, and without blinking… One twist of his neck drops him dead at my feet.

I stand to my full height, staring at the scum I just rid the earth of without even raising my pulse.

This is what I was made for. What I live for.

The silence of my conscience makes it easy to detect another presence among me, and my body stills like I’ve been trained to do.

I can move without being seen. I can see without looking.

Linden is watching me. She can’t see me, not really, but she’s looking right at me as if she senses me too.

Her eyes are so inquisitive but innocent like her daughters. They have no idea of the shit storm they walked into when they moved in next door.

But I guess if they are involved with the Scott family, then the storm was already brewing for them.

Because there might be a dead man at my feet, but her daughter’s grandparents are the real monsters.

My targets.

The glow of a distant light flashes in my eyes for the briefest second, and on instinct, I disappear further into the darkness.

It’s where I belong. Where I thrive.

It’s why I was chosen.

* * *

A large part of remaining unseen is learning how to move slowly and in silence.

No one pays attention to the shitty house or the man working on his shitty truck. If anything, they avoid looking altogether.

But I look. I see everything.

Dusk is nearing darkness, and that’s when I transform to something else entirely.

But for now, I wait. I tinker around in my garage and pretend I’m a failing mechanic, lost in my own world.

When really, I’m thinking about all the intel I’ve gathering on my targets. And all the moving pieces that will make or break my op.

My eyes stray to the window on the side of my neighbor’s house. Her kitchen is lit up like it normally is, with zero effort to maintain their privacy, and a steady stream of music playing.

Even if they had curtains, their presence would be entirely too difficult to ignore.

This house was chosen specifically because of the vacant lot next door. Privacy means more opportunities to operate without being seen.

And then Linden Scott had to pull up and throw a wrench in everything.

The first night I snuck into her house, I had to retrieve the spyware I had installed in their attic. Long-range devices that were picking up on sounds and frequencies coming from the mansion up on the hill.

I took my time, rifling through her newly unpacked things. That’s when I met little Avery. Luckily, she fell back into a deep slumber, and nothing indicates that she remembers me being there.

There were never any screams of terror or police knocking on my door. Not that the police could do anything to me anyway.