Anew

31

Tristan’s room had a king size bed in the center, an antique wardrobe chest in the corner and an oversized, marble bathroom off to the side. Although it was located in the basement, his room was well lit and not quite as dungeon-looking as it felt.

And it often felt like a dungeon.

A place underground.

A place without hope.

A place full of nightmares.

Nightmares like the night before.

Tristan stared at his bare chest in his bathroom mirror and sighed. His multiple wounds were healing at their normal, rapid pace.

Damn it.

Maniac had been persistent, slashing away at Tristan’s body for three hours. Which was exactly what Tristan had wanted him to do, but it didn’t exactly make for a good night’s sleep.

And it had hurt like hell.

To Maniac’s credit, even when Tristan’s body was flayed open and gushing blood, the hit man hadn’t throw up. That was more than Tristan could say for the last two assassins he’d hired.

But Maniac eventually freaked out, threw the dagger on the ground, and accused Tristan of being a vampire. Which wasn’t the first time he’d been mistaken for such a thing.

Maniac had, literally, run away in fear.

Tristan laid in the alley all night, watching in agony as his body slowly mended itself.

When morning came his organs and muscles were put back together, but he was in too much pain to attempt moving. So, throughout the day, he’d laid among the hidden rats until he was strong enough to find his way back to his car.

It had been a long drive home—as always.

Tristan was sore, tired, and depressed. He glanced at his bed in the mirror’s reflection and sighed. Sleep wouldn’t come, even if he tried. When Scarlet was alive, sleep was always fleeting and fitful.

But nowadays, it was nearly impossible.

He showered the remaining blood, sweat, and dirt from his body and toweled off. Soon the scars from last night would fade away completely, leaving his torso nearly flawless.

What he wouldn’t give to be decaying beside that dumpster right now.

He pulled on a pair of jeans and a clean shirt, grabbed the bloodied dagger from his dresser, and headed upstairs.

He had a lot of work to do.

He needed to find a new assassin and a new weapon.

It was going to be a long day.