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“Thank you, Crow. I’ll get it done.” I pick up the folder and stand.
“Of course you will. You’re the best.”
Dipping my chin, I turn and head for the door, closing it behind me and leaving Crow inside the briefing room.
I lean against the wall, taking a deep, centering breath.
Holy shit.
I never thought I would see Alpha again, let alone have to work him as a target.
I have no idea how I will get this done, but I have no choice.
This is what I was trained to do ever since I can remember.
I was so young when I joined The Nest and became a bird. From memory, I think I was around nine years old or so. Which, by all accounts, is on the older side for a recruit to join The Nest. They generally like to bring in the recruits when they’re younger—it makes them more malleable and yielding. But I was easy to train. Easy to shape. Even at that age. Especially because it was my father who brought me to them. I didn’t want to be with a family who didn’t want me. So, I happily gave myself over to The Nest.
Shaking my head to rid those intrusive thoughts, I step away from the wall, finding the inner strength I know I will need for this mission.
Make Alpha fall in love with me.
Then kill him.
That’s my goal.
That’s theonlytask I need to accomplish.
I must keep focused and remember why I am doing this—I can’t be an assassin forever. It’s physically impossible, so I need to notch up as many kills as possible. With each one comes a hefty payday, and I am saving for my future. A future away from The Nest. Even though I fucking love what I do, and IknowI was born to do this, I can’t do it forever.
I need to get as much cash together as possible so I can retire to that two-story, secluded farm I’m hoping for.
The thing about jobs like Alpha’s, where I have to play a role as well as a kill order, is that they pay a hefty price tag. So this might be the one that sends me to that farmhouse I’ve been dreaming of. All I have to do is put emotions aside and carry out the task assigned.
And I will.
Because no matter what, Alpha’s fate is sealed.
He’s lucky they chose me.
Because at least I can be merciful and make it painless.
Others wouldn’t be quite so considerate.
Inhaling deeply, I take off, returning to my Jeep, passing the sleeping quarters. As I go, the sound of muffled crying creeps into my ears. Glancing up at the dorms, I figure it’s coming from the juvenile section. Deep down, I know I should leave. Whoever is crying has obviously been sent to her room for disciplinary action.
The training is hard.
Not every bird can take it.
But to get through it, sometimes all they need is a little guidance from someone who has made it.
I know that’s what helped me get through.
A smile lights up my face when I think of Robin, my mentor who helped me when times got tough throughout my training. My smile falls, hating that she’s gone, but birds eventually fly the nest sooner or later. Even I am planning to fly, we all do. It’sourend game.
Making my way to the room where the sound is coming from, I stand outside, ensuring no guards are around. There aren’t, so I gently tap on the door. The bird stops crying, clearing her throat as she moves to open the door. The little girl pulls it open—she must be all of six or seven—with tears staining her pale face as she swipes them away, standing to attention. “I’m ready to return to service,” she tells me, but her tone lacks any kind of conviction.
I move my hand, resting it on her shoulder, and gently push back to ease her into her dorm. She furrows her brows before she turns, making her way back inside the insidiously sterile room. Her confused stare watches me intently as I gesture for her bed. She takes a seat, and I grab the cold metal chair, sitting on it and facing her. “What’s your designation, little bird?” I ask.
