Crowed (Team Zero #2) by Rina Kent

Her lips thin in a line. “Either leave or I’ll call the police.”

I reach out to the phone, but she hugs it to the visible line between her breasts.

It’s cute that she thinks the gesture would stop me.

I dive in. My fingers brush against the skin of her breasts. Fuck me. They’re softer than they look. I’m so tempted to grab a handful. See if they fit in my palms.

Nurse Betty gasps, letting the phone fall in my hand, and jumps back. She crosses her palms on her chest, cheeks turning a deep crimson. Not sure if it’s because of anger or something else.

“I...” She swallows and points a finger at me. “I’ll find a way to report you.”

“No, you won’t.” I twirl the phone between my fingers. “Here’s how it will go. I’ll rent the second storey for a while. You’re not to disturb me or utter a word about me. In exchange, I will pay you a few thousand in rent.”

She huffs, folding her arms. “What makes you think I won’t report you?”

“Because if you do... ” I advance until her sweet, head-turning scent is all I smell. My voice drops. “I’ll burn this whole place down.”

She flinches as if I slapped her. The tiny features contort into a mayhem of emotions; hatred, sadness, anger. Everything that’s able to purge that numbness right out of those huge green gates. Those eyes should be alive. It’s unfair that they would get anywhere near death.

Not that it should be any of my fucking business whether she lives or dies. It’s my job not to care.

“Y-you... wouldn’t,” she whispers, the sound haunted. Terrified.

“Try. Me.” I emphasise every word.

I didn’t miss the family pictures at the entrance and the huge architectural credit that the man in the old picture built this place. Judging by the age, her grandfather. Which means this gothic mansion has emotional value to her. It was a long shot that she cared about anything in her apathetic state, but good to know that there’s a weakness to explore.

“Or better yet,” I continue. “I may explode it.” I edge to murmur in her ear, “Boom.”

Explosions are Storm’s style, not mine. Doesn’t hurt to threaten with it.

She jerks away from me, posture tense. A series of French profanities spill from her mouth. Something about me being a sick bastard and blah fucking blah.

I cut her off with a finger to her lips. “What did I say about cursing in that weak arse French of yours, Nurse Betty?”

Before I can realise it, she does something I never thought a tiny thing like her would have the bollocks to do.

She bites my finger. Hard. Like a rabid dog planning to crack the bones. The green of her eyes is anything but dead. It’s firing up with simmering rage.

Fucking hell.

I push her away to save my bloody finger from being cut off. And there. Blood is already coating it.

“Stop calling me Nurse Betty!” She spits blood – my fucking blood – on the wooden floor. “My name is Eloise, not Nurse fucking Betty, you bastard!”

I stare between my assaulted finger and her bloodied mouth. My lips part, unable to believe she did this. Me, Crow, one of Team Zero’s notorious fucking killers, a founding assassin of The Pit, got bit by a French doll. “You little –”

“Pay me up front.” She cuts me off, widening her stance and tapping her foot on the floor.

“What?”

“I said to pay me the rent now. How would I know if you disappear in the middle of the night?”

She’s lucky I’m not banging her head on the bedpost, and she’s asking for money?

I laugh, the sound long and humourless. Eloise remains unfazed. Still tapping her foot, waiting for the payment.

She’s something. Something so fucking irritating and yet so fascinating.

Again, a weird combination.

But it’s good. I’m getting what I want by staying at the safest place in this town. I reach out to my back pocket. The tapping of her leg screeches to a halt. She chews on the inside of her cheeks, eyes widening a little.

When I produce my phone, her shoulders hunch. Was she thinking I’d retrieve the gun instead?

“Give me your bank account number.” I can stay for free, even kidnap her at her own property. But that would be a hassle, especially with the fucking gunshot. Besides, I have a lot of money due to my killing contracts. What would I keep it for?

Except for my bike, I only use it for living necessities. I never understood the need for it. Hades and his underground partners do, though. He’s built The Pit to gain money and makes sure to take a large percentage of our killing contracts.

After she enters her number, I transfer a few thousand euros from my Swiss bank account. That should be enough for at least three months’ rent. Not that I plan to stay more than a week.

Storm or Ghost would get me out of here in no time.

Once I show her the confirmation message, Nurse Betty – aka Eloise – pushes me towards the door. “Your floor is the one above. Unless you’re taking the stairs to go out, don’t step foot on mine again.”

The door slams shut in my face.

The little fucking witch.

Now I know how it feels not to have someone scared of me. It’s irritating as fuck.

Perhaps I should demonstrate real fear. Put her in her place. Before I can contemplate the idea, the door swings open. I’m once again met by fired up tiny features.