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His hands slid all over my body.
The way his lips felt against my skin.
The way his cock felt inside me.
I’ve been lucky that I haven’t had targets to focus on this last week. Or maybethat’sbeen my problem. I’ve had nothing but time to keep my mind ruminating on the intense night I shared with the brooding biker who I will never see again.
Doesn’t matter, though. I need to get my head in the game. The Nest has called me in to brief me in person. Said this next job isnotmy usual kill mission. It’s more detailed than that. Generally, when a target isn’t just a kill order, it means I’m going to be working them—going undercover. I haven’t been assigned this type of mission for a while, and I’m a little rusty. I’ve been The Nest’s go-to assassin for the last couple of years, being able to get the job done fast.
So whoever my next target is, theymustbe important.
The air is a chilly sixty-four degrees with the threat of rain over the Cerro San Isidro Mountains, which are clearly visible as I pull my Jeep Wrangler Rubicon to the security gates of The Nest’s training facility, sitting at the base of the mountain in Tijuana, Mexico.
I drove my Jeep in today instead of my Harley in case I need to bring case notes and equipment back with me for this next mission. Stopping at the checkpoint, I lower my window and place my hand on the fingerprint scanner. It traces my prints while the laser scans my vehicle, and the guard looks at thenecklace I flash him—a silver chain with a dangling silver bird. It may look simple enough, but inside that bird is a tracker.
And theywillknow if I take it off, even for a second.
Then, theywillcome after me.
After its thorough inspection, the scanner clears my car, and the guard waves me through. The gates slide open, and I dip my head to the guard in thanks. Taking off, I head inside the facility, driving past a squad of new birds in training. Vulture is drilling the teen division as they run in formation. Some girls begin to falter in their stride. I can’t help the frown that falls on my face, knowing nothing good is coming for them with Vulture as their trainer.
I know from experience.
Because she trained me.
So, I know exactly what those recruits are going through.
Pulling my Jeep into the underground parking facility, I turn off the engine and take a centering breath. It’s been years since I underwent that rigorous training, which still haunts me today. But at the same time, it made me who I am now. Shaking it off, I jump out of the Jeep and walk toward the entry, knowing my next assignment is waiting for me, and if I am late for my briefing, all hell will be unleashed on me.
I place my hand on the scanner then press the keycode for the elevator. It dings, and I walk in, the doors automatically closing after scanning my silver bird. Then, I hit the button for the highest level. My foot taps anxiously while I wait impatiently for the doors to open to the third floor. When they finally do, my eyes widen as Crow, the Director of The Nest, stands before me. Her arms folded, a scowl on her deeply wrinkled face. Her black hair is pulled back in a tight bun, only accentuating the deep etch in her weathered skin.
Shit.
“Blue Jay, we expected you here three minutes ago. Vulturetrained you better than this. We require you at your briefings promptly and efficiently.”
I step out of the elevator with a nod. “Yes, ma’am. Traffic was worse than expected, but I should have accounted for that. Won’t happen again.”
She inhales through her nose so dramatically her nostrils flare with the movement. “Fine. As this is your first infraction, I will let this slide. But Blue Jay, you are one of our top assets. We expectnothingbut perfection from you.”
“And that is what youwillget. Shall we move this to the briefing room?” I ask, having had enough of this scolding.
Crow spins, leading us down the hall toward the briefing room, and proceeds through all the security protocols to gain access. I walk into the small space and sit as Crow closes the door behind me. She sits opposite me on the other side of the table and pulls out a document wallet, opening it across the tabletop. “Your next mission is different from the direct-kill orders. Your target is of great value to the client, one of which is paying a hefty price so he will get whatever he wants. You are to keep the target busy and occupied. Distract him by whatever means necessary.”
Whatever means necessary.
This generally means sleeping with the target. Not every bird in The Nest is trained for this kind of mission, but in case of promotion to this level, all birds who complete training are sterilized at the age of sixteen.
Accidents are a risk The Nest won't tolerate.
The Nest is a bird’s top priority.
As a bird, we accept this. We understand these sacrifices. It’s part of being an agent of The Nest.
My body is also a weapon, and for this mission, I will need to use it.
Narrowing my eyes on her, I slump back in my chair. “This along-term mission?”
“It’s open-ended. The end result is the same. A kill order is in place. While our client is getting organized, they want you to insert yourself into the target’s life. Becomeindispensable.”
