Anew

5

Tristan’s green eyes examined his most recent acquisition in the soft light of the den. He turned the ancient blade over in his hand, the ornate handle weighing heavy in his palm. The long blade glinted in the lamp light of the room as he continued to turn it over.

He’d spent years searching for this dagger. A dagger believed to have magical energy.

Or mystic powers.

Or voodoo or something.

Tristan wasn’t sure. But he didn’t care what kind of powers the blade possessed as long as it would take the life he was trying to end. A life that was proving far more obstinate in its existence than he’d anticipated.

He polished the blade carefully, running an execution plan through his head.

There were so many details involved when committing murder, so many loose ends. Killing took careful planning, patience and, most of all, resilience.

He could not give up. No matter how terrible or unforgivable his mission was, he could not stop.

The curse needed to end.

He finished polishing and made a place for the blade on the west wall of the den among the other weapons.

Measuring thirty feet in length and fifteen feet high, the wall was covered from floor to ceiling with an arsenal from the last five hundred years. The weapons ranged from the most primitive of clubs to the most modern of knives.

But no guns. That was a personal preference the brothers shared.

One of the few.

Tristan hung the dagger and stepped back to view the collection of weapons. He’d been trying to end the curse for nearly two years. He’d used nearly every weapon he owned on his brutal quest and all had failed him.

Hopefully, the dagger would not.

Tristan sighed as he retreated from the den to the large office next door. He made is way to the back of the room and sat behind the large mahogany desk. He clicked on the computer.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Tristan started his Internet search. A few months ago, he’d discovered the best way to kill his target was to hire a hit man.

Not because he enjoyed including others in his grisly task, but because he simply could not do it alone.

He’d tried—and failed—too many times to count.

And time was of the essence.

His computer came to life and alerted him of a new message waiting in his inbox—a fervent response from one of the assassins he’d tracked down.

It was amazing what you could find on craigslist.

The message contained a time and location to meet so they could exchange payment.

Tristan’s gut churned. It was easier than he’d ever imagined to find someone willing to kill for money. And, although he was sickened by the scoundrels who’d responded so eagerly to his online request, he was grateful for it.

Because he couldn’t do this without help.

Maybe this time it would work. Maybe this time there would be a dead body, an empty soul; a chance for Scarlet to truly exist and for Tristan to be permanently free of the curse.

Tristan responded to the assassin’s email.

I’ll be there.

He closed his computer screen and stared across the office, hoping it would all be over soon.