someone is gunning to kill Anita again. but what if someone from Edward's past is doing the gunning?
I awoke to my blue Nokia singing. It was a special tune, the lovely tune of the death march. The only way it rang out of my phone was if one of two people called me. One would ask me to kill, and the other's name was Death. Not really his name but it suited him. I knew it was my employer, for Death didn't know my number. We had been out of contact for ages but I was always hoping he would call me one of these days.
My employer, Reggie, was a funny techy nerd. I answered it on the third ring, dislocating myself from the rest of my comforters and sheets, sitting on the edge of the bed. I was a hundred percent sure that it was Reggie but I checked the number on the screen anyway. Yeah it was him.
"Hey sexy. Miss me?" I answered voice thick with sleep and my southern accent. It probably sounded more like poured on seduction on his end, "Because I've missed your sweet butt."
He gave an exasperated sigh and continued, all business. The man was a kill joy. "We've got a target."
"And just like that off with my prom dress." I smirked, "who needs to die?"
"Her name is Anita Blake. Heard of her?" Reggie asked me. His voice was a little on the high side of a man's voice. He wasn't much of a looker but then again that's why I flirted. As far as I know he doesn't get it anywhere else. He just thinks I'm a female leech. Suits me fine.
"Human servant, zombie queen, lover of the lunarly furry, St. Louis vampire executioner, federal Marshal and investigator of prenatural crimes sound like her?" I asked.
"Yeah," he had a tone in his voice like he was proud or happy that I actually knew something about my assignments. He had no idea what it takes to be a hunter, "that's her."
"Never heard of her." I sighed tugging on my favorite tight jeans. I just wore the white linen tank I had slept in. It was almost two sizes too big for me but I still wore it. What can I say? I like my jeans tight and my shirts big.
There was that sigh again. "You're a pain in the ass you know that?"
"Yeah but that's why you love me, sexy," I always called him that, Bugs the heck out of him.
"Obviously you did your home work despite what you tell me." He snapped at me, I was going to tell him not to be like that but he started talking before the words were out of my mouth, "you're to go to St. Louis and kill her."
I looked at my nails even though I was the only one who would see me do it. It was just business. Like paperwork no one really wants to do it. It just needs to get done. "Preference?"
"Dead. As in D-E-A-D, dead."
I grinned. Most people's grins in this kind of situation are very unpleasant, more fitting as to what they were talking about. Mine, I'm told, is not like that, More like I'm about to go for a hike and look for Easter eggs. And what we were talking about wasn't really that different. I enjoyed my work. Killing the prey gave me a sense of satisfaction like finally finding the Cracker Jack prize in the box. "Open season?"
There was silence on the other end, then the rustling of papers. I knew Reggie was trying to find the fine print that said I couldn't do it my way. He knew better than I did that it wasn't there. If the benefiter doesn't state how it is to be done with me I have my way. This is more fun for me. The rustling stopped and then he carefully said in a tone that showed how much he hated saying it. "They didn't state a way of death."
I silently punched my fist in the air. Then said calmly, sucking all the excitement down in my toes for latter use, "well then sexy, whens my flight?" I was on my way to St. Louis boys and girls. In the immortal words of Inigo Mantoya, 'there will be blood tonight!'
sorry it was so short. I thought it best that way. short sweet and vague.