Ruin (Rhodes #1) by Rina Kent

                             I halt by an abandoned building. A few metres away, a bulky short male is forcing a brunette onto the ground, head first, and manoeuvres himself over her arse. His gaze dips to her naked behind. One hand covers her mouth, the other fumbles with his belt.

                             The woman’s muted cry slips between his fingers. When he thrusts into her, I grin. That, an idiot screwing up, is what’s been missing from my day. I can’t deny myself the pleasure when the opportunity arises.

                             The brunette has to be knocked out. Her meddling and crying would hinder me.

                             Subduing him would be...well, boring. While this may not appear like an alluring kill, it’s still blood to spill.

                             My hand curls around the knife as I glance around, looking for witnesses. The alley is as clear as the desert.

                             I stalk towards them. Neither of them notices me.

                             When I lift my hand to strike, the woman bites the man’s hand. “I told you to wait until we got home!” Her finger guides his to her front. “Oh, yes! Yes! Right there, Mark.”

                             Dammit.

                             He wasn’t raping her. Or at least, not in the way that gives me a reason to finish his life.

                             I pivot on my heels and retreat to the shadows.

                             My fingers press tighter against the knife. I can lie to my cousin and claim I acted upon a misunderstanding. Anyone would’ve mistaken it as rape. Only I had far too many misunderstandings in the past for Tristan to let this pass unnoticed.

                             Which leaves me with the alternative of hiding this. Finish the couple and clean the scene solo. No report. No explanations.

                             The downside is that cleaning irks me. So much work and little to no thrill. That’s why I have Kane and his team for such tasks.

                             These two aren’t worth inducing Tristan’s wrath.

                             I back away, put the knife back in its sheath, and take the opposite direction.

                             ‘No, go back there! Kill them both.’

                             The volume of the maddening voices echo louder in my head, demanding the blood they were promised.

                             Fuck you, gates of hell, for screwing me further into the abyss of chaos.

                             A small dog with pink ribbons around its neck rushes towards me. I stop at an intersection of two tight, uninhabited alleyways. The little thing erupts in crazed barks.

                             Could the animal sense my demons?

                             Doesn’t matter. Killing a dog isn’t a priority.

                             ‘Neither is cleaning and yet you ruined it.’ There was a tinge of rage in Father’s voice.

                             Shut up.

                             “Melanie!”

                             The feminine voice reaches me before its owner collides into my chest. I hold my position as a girl, wearing a long coat the same colour as the dog’s ribbons, stumbles and falls on her arse.