Prologue

Both of my feet hit the concrete as I drop from the second-story balcony. The overweight security guard is surprisingly fast, given his size. This was supposed to be a quick job, in and out. That’s what Dominic said. We didn’t account for the fact that the target was going to hire private security over the last forty-eight hours. I’ll beat the shit out of him for it later.

“Stop!” the man rages as he lands on the ground of the concrete alley and tears after me.

He’s pissed, obviously. It’s probably his first day, and I just killed his boss. Whoopsies.

With my mask in place, it’s not like he knows who I am or even my skin color. My brother and I have been at this for what feels like our whole lives. Dominic does it for the power it brings us, but I do it for the fun. The thrill that courses through your veins when you hold someone’s pulse in your hands, teetering on that edge between sparing them and snapping their neck in two. Of course, I can’t say I’ve ever felt inclined toward the former.

It’s intoxicating and erotic, and it’s never enough.

Fuck, I’m still hard from taking out tonight’s target. Once I take care of this security guy, I’m gonna need to find the nearest warm hole and sink into it.

My steps pound against the ground as the alley finally opens up and reveals the street. Before I can devise where to lure my prey, though, a sharp sting rips through my back. I stop dead in my tracks before whipping around.

There, I find the profusely sweating security guard only one hundred feet from me, his hand shaking as he holds a Glock .45 with a silencer on the end. I take even, measured steps toward him until he shoots me again, this time in the ribs.

My body jerks, but that is the only impact I allow him to see. I let my mind go to the darkest recess I can reach, allowing the inky black memories to wrap me up like a warm cocoon, numbing the pain and allowing me to push forward.

The man’s eyes widen as he shoots me for the third time, this one in the thigh. My body is already too cold, too numb to register the pain. The only thing I feel is the cool metal of my knife against my fingertips as I reach into my pocket and pull it out.

My prey’s body begins to shake, a look of horror as he watches me walk toward him with ease. He turns to run, but I’m too close to him, and he’s out of time. I wrap my uninjured arm around his head, gripping him with my gloves as I turn his neck up to expose the carotid.

He squeals like a spring pig as I plunge my blade into his throbbing pulse, but the squeals quickly turn into a harmonic gargle as I slide the knife across the front of his neck like butter. There is only a small piece of skin and his spine to keep his head attached to his body before I drop the bleeding sack of shit to the ground.

I look down at my blood-soaked hand and knife before I begin rubbing my fingers together, momentarily mesmerized by the warmth soaking into my gloves. It soon turns cold, though, and I’ve lost interest as I turn on my heel and walk toward the street.

Pulling out my phone, I shoot off a quick message to our cleanup crew that there is another body to take care of. Dominic says that if we don’t clean up our own messes, we are able to operate even smoother without the risk of ever being tied back to anything. Really, I think he was just tired of cleaning up after my playtime. Our cleanup crew understands the risk. Should they ever get placed for a job, they will take whatever charges they give them and do it with a smile on their face and their lips sewn shut. They know that turning on the Graves brothers would be a fate worse than death. I’d make sure of it personally.

The next step I take twinges, and no matter how much I block out the pain, it comes back in a crashing wave. Looking down at my leg, I curse. Motherfucker nicked my femoral.

As if acknowledging the wound was all the permission my body needed to feel the pain, my head begins to spin. The next thing I feel is the cold, hard cement beneath me. I assess my surroundings, but I’m still a good fifty feet away from the street and a quarter mile from the car.

I feel a warmth begin to seep all around me as I look down to see blood soak through my black shirt and pants. Shit, can’t say I’ve been this fucked up in a while.

My hand shakes as I attempt to shoot off a text to Dom, my blood-soaked fingers slipping and flailing across the keyboard. I hit send, or at least I try to before my vision spots.

Doing my best to banish the spots away, I peel my eyes open when they catch on to a figure. I couldn’t have bled out that quick, and there is no way in fuck I’m getting into heaven. But right before my eyes, I swear to fuck it’s an angel.

Her hair is so light it’s practically white, flowing at her sides in an ethereal way I’ve never seen before. She has a large pair of headphones covering her ears as she walks naively down the road, not even slightly aware of all the danger that surrounds her in this city. The danger that is bleeding out just feet from her.

She’s perfect, better than perfect. Her creamy skin shines in the moonlight, and I fucking hate that I’m too far away to see what color the angel’s eyes are. Her long legs take each step with purpose, and soon she’s fading from my view.

My sight begins to dim as darkness begins to cloud over me. If I don’t make it out of this, at least I got a glimpse of an angel before I burn in hell. If I do, then that angel is mine.