The Killer’s Vow by Aria R. Blue
Vera
We embark on the journey by the break of dawn.
Ivy hands me a suitcase.
“It has everything you’ll need,” she says, squeezing my shoulder. “Clothes, disguises, snacks, entertainment.”
In the moments before sunrise, she looks like a ray of light herself. Glowing skin and radiant hair. Charisma for days, but also a boss attitude when it’s needed.
It’s only now that I realize how I truly feel about Ivy.
I envy her.
The fact that my little sister idolizes her instead of me might have something to do with it.
But there’s more to it.
I’m jealous of everything she is and all that she stands for.
And if I’m being honest, I wish I was a little more like her. The kind of person people both like and admire.
But as Simon’s presence envelops me from behind, I realize that it was never a competition.
I’ve been competing, but everyone else is just trying to master their own game.
She’s on her own journey, and I’m on mine.
So I hug her back with an open heart.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For everything.”
She’s taken aback by my sudden warmth. “Of course. You know you can reach out to me anytime, right? For anything.”
“We should hit the road now,” Simon says, glancing at his watch.
Ivy blinks a few times as if someone just slapped her.
She turns to Simon and gives him the most murderous smile in the history of all smiles.
“Simon, sweetie, can I have a word with you?” she asks with a saccharine voice.
I grin.
She’s probably about to boast to him that she knows a hundred different ways to kill a man using a Barbie.
Simon and Ivy walk back into the house.
On her way in, Ivy reaches down to pet Lion. He bares his fangs at her.
And Simon, being Simon, decides to show off, crouching down to pet the dog.
It’s not helping his case with Ivy, but I don’t think he really cares.
More importantly, I’m starting to sense that Simon likes to test people’s patience.
It’s a game to him—to see just how much they can take before they stop being civil.
After the screen doors close, Damian and Luna both give me a warm goodbye hug. Nico pats my back.
“We’ll find a way to keep in touch with you,” Nico says.
“It’s better if we don’t,” Damian says. “Since there will be people searching for them, they’ll start with her friends and family first. All of our phone lines and communications will be tapped.”
“We’ll still find a way,” Nico says, completely ignoring what Damian just said.
Nico is somewhat of a radical thinker.
He tries to come up with outlandish solutions to problems. Most of the time, the things he comes up with are destructive and catastrophic, but at least he has fun with it.
Damian, Ivy’s husband, is more conservative in his approach.
He likes to plan slow and only try the things that have proven to work in the past.
“I have a good feeling about that man,” Luna says, glancing back at Simon. “I think he’ll keep you safe.”
“That’s what my gut says too,” I say.
A strange excitement fills me up every time I think about him.
He’s new in my life, but he feels like an old friend I’ve always had. And some part of my soul is thrilled to be reunited with him.
The way my body seems to catch on fire for him is a whole other topic.
“Good,” Luna says, glancing at her husband. “If there’s anything I learned in my life, it’s to listen to my gut. I regret every time I decided to ignore it.”
The sky morphs from deep red to orange by the time Ivy and Simon come back.
His eyes burn when they land on me as if he’s seeing me for the very first time.
My skin buzzes in anticipation.
He stops by my side and leans down.
“Morning light suits you, tigritsa moya,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re more glorious than the sun.”
Ivy frowns at him, even though she couldn’t have possibly heard what he just said to me.
Luna winks at me, grinning at the two of us.
With a heart that’s light and heavy at the same time, I say my final goodbyes to everybody.
I’m afraid of leaving the familiar behind. But I’m also a little excited about what the unknown may bring.
When the future is uncertain, absolutely anything and everything is possible.
I walk to where the white Audi is parked.
“We’re not taking that car,” Simon says.
I turn around. “We’re not?”
He pulls the cover off a large car next to the Audi. A night-black SUV.
I step toward it.
“A Lamborghini SUV,” I breathe out.
“I learned my lesson,” he says. “Compromising speed just to blend in was my worst idea.”
The men and Ivy gush over the fast car.
“I’m only impressed by fast bikes,” Luna says, stifling a yawn.
“I’m sorry you had to wake up early because of me,” I say.
Everybody was up late planning and then woke up four hours later to send us off.
“Are you kidding me?” she says. “We owe everything to you. If you hadn’t helped us all those years ago, half of us wouldn’t even be here for this. And it’s not even about that. We want to be there for you.”
Simon straps Lion into one of the back seats. There’s a pet harness there in my dog’s size.
“When did you—?“
“I ordered it last night,” he says. “Having Lion sit in your lap for long periods will only be cute for an hour at most. I don’t want you to get uncomfortable.”
I was thinking about this yesterday, but I never once complained about having to bear my dog’s weight.
Honestly, I’m more impressed by this small gesture than by the fancy car.
I help him strap Lion into the harness.
My dog hates it, and he makes that known.
“I’ll let you smell all the flowers in Florida, boy,” I say, giving my dog a treat to lighten his mood.
“He likes flowers?” Simon asks, removing Lion’s leash.
“Loves them. He’s allergic to half of them, but he still can’t get enough.”
Ivy pulls me aside right before I’m about to get into the passenger seat.
She hands me a book.
A black book. The Black Book.
“This belongs to the family, but I want you to have it,” she says.
“Ivy,” I say, my throat tight. “I can’t.”
“You know what it is, then?” she asks.
I nod. “I mean, of course, I’ve heard about it. But I didn’t think it was really—”
“Real?” she asks.
I bite down on my lower lip and nod.
“Well, it’s something I wish I had back when I was just starting out,” she says. “It helped me out over the years, and I think it may be of use to you as well.”
The Black Book is a Blackwood family heirloom.
All of us know about it, but most believe it’s as real as the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
It’s a collection of information about every crime family to ever exist.
Every single one.
Basically, it has dirt on every person involved in a crime organization.
Blackwood spies collect information on people year-round and add it to this very book I’m holding in my hands.
I wrap my fingers around the thick black binding.
“I’m scared of losing it,” I say.
“Don’t be,” Ivy says. “Of course, I want you to be careful with it, but I also think you’re going to need it at some point in your journey.”
I shake my head in astonishment. “I can’t believe you trust me with it.”
In our world, information is power.
Ivy giving me this book is the equivalent of her writing me a check for half of her fortune.
Something about these people makes my heart ache.
Somewhere along the way, I’d forgotten how much good exists in this world.
I became preoccupied with running from my reality and looking out for myself. It made me lose sight of all the wonderful things I’ve already been blessed with.
Clutching the book to my chest, I get inside the car.
It hurts to leave, but we do.
“Don’t look back,” Simon says. “It makes it easier to leave.”
I glance at the car’s side mirror anyway. It doesn’t make it any easier.
* * *
Within the next four hours,we’re on the I-65.
We had breakfast at the private greenhouse Simon promised to take me to.
I was impressed by the old man’s collection. He had everything from medicine to poisons, and he let me take all that I needed. Before we left, Simon made him sign an NDA.
The Lamborghini SUV is far more comfortable than the sports car we were in yesterday, but my muscles are tight already.
“Early lunch?” Simon asks, noticing that Lion has started to get restless too.
“Sure,” I say distractedly.
I swear I keep seeing a silver Porsche following us.
Since this is the interstate, it’s probably not unusual to see the same cars for miles on end.
But something about this one is odd.
Fully tinted windows.
Illinois license plate.
The way it always stays exactly four cars behind us. I don’t know why my attention keeps snagging on that one car in particular.
Maybe I’m just being paranoid.
Simon is usually on the lookout for suspicious activity, but he’s off his game today.
“When did you go to bed?” I ask.
The last thing I saw before I fell asleep last night was the light from his laptop illuminating his face.
He glances at me. “After.”
“After what?”
He smiles. “After you started snoring.”
Laughter bubbles from my stomach, and I forget all about that silver Porsche. “I do not.”
“If you don’t believe me, I’ll record it for next time. It’s kind of cute.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m not joking. I think I’d like to wake up to it every day. I’ll set it up as my morning alarm.”
He spots a large restaurant sign toward the side of the road.
“Does that look like a good place for lunch?” he asks, nodding at it.
“Yeah,” I say, eager to finally stretch my legs again.
We park in front of the roadside restaurant. It’s eleven in the morning, and only two other cars are in the parking lot.
A teenager is smoking by the side of the building. He nods appreciatively at our car as Simon and I step out.
“What do I do about Lion?” I ask.
Simon lets Lion out of the car. “He’s been trained to behave in public, right?”
“For the most part,” I say, nibbling on my bottom lip.
Simon is partly distracted by the lip nibbling. “Pretend he’s your child and he has every right to be here.”
“Dude.”
“You’d be surprised at how often my brand of cockiness works,” he says.
“What if they have a no-pets policy?”
He gives me a look.
“What?” I ask.
“Come on,” he says, looping his arm over my shoulders and leading me inside.
If there’s a no-pets policy, nobody says anything about it.
Simon offers to take Lion for a quick walk, so I hand him the leash.
“Order something for me,” he says.
“What do you like?” I call after him.
“Surprise me. I’m not that picky,” he says, already heading out.
His easygoing attitude leaves me perplexed most of the time. I didn’t know people like him even existed in occupations like his.
I would expect an assassin to be serious and intense, but Simon is just a big goofball.
As I scan the restaurant menu, I realize he never told me if he slept last night or not. He dodged my question, and I didn’t even know it.
I glance out at the parking lot again. But something else catches my eye.
Something silver and unmistakable.
A Porsche is hidden behind some tall trees closer to the highway. It’s the same car I felt was following us.
I start to hyperventilate.
Simon and my dog are nowhere to be seen.
Breathing normally starts to get more difficult.
Five things.
Five things I’m grateful for right now.
I’m in a public place.
Hot food will arrive at our table any second.
I have my herbs and poisons.
Lion and Simon are here to help.
The red wig and black sunglasses make me look like a different girl.
Air rushes back into my lungs. It’s not effortless, but it no longer feels like I’m choking.
A moment later, the restaurant door opens.
Simon and Lion enter, and at the same time, the food reaches our table.
The relief is so profound that I slump back in my chair.
But it’s a temporary relief.
Halfway through our meal, the door opens again. Simon doesn’t turn around to look, but I see her.
Vintage black dress and combat boots. Pale skin and red hair.
Luna told me to listen to my gut.
And my gut is screaming at me that this flamboyant woman is the owner of the silver Porsche.
And by the smug grin she throws at me, I know that this is Rebekah, the assassin Simon was telling me about yesterday.
The assassin sent to kill me.
Either I can wait for her to act or I can act myself.
“Excuse me, I need to go to the restroom,” I say, standing up.
Simon looks up at me and nods.
He’s still unaware that his nemesis is sitting inside this very restaurant.
She’s facing his back, so I’m the one who can see her clearly.
My body recognizes her as an apex predator. She’s not to be messed with or fooled. But I will my feet to move in her direction anyway.
I keep my eyes straight ahead.
My face has been trained.
It might be expressive around Simon, but I can display exactly the kind of emotion I want. And right now, whether she buys it or not, I put forth innocence.
Right when I reach her table, my heart starts to pound.
I trip over my own feet and use her table for support.
“Oh, my bad,” I say, quickly straightening up.
“Yeah,” the woman says in a husky tone. “Your bad.”
I get the hell away from her.
The restrooms are located right next to the entrance. I lock myself in a blue stall and call Simon with the phone he bought me this morning.
“Hello?” He picks up, confused. “Vera, is everything all right?”
“She’s here,” I say.
“Who is?”
“Her. Your childhood friend. Rebekah.”
“What are you talking about?” he says, his easygoing voice morphing into that of a killer’s.
“Look behind you,” I say.
“Vera, you’re scaring me.”
“Look behind you, Simon,” I say.
“I am. There’s nobody here except for us,” he says.
That can only mean—
“Boo.” A head appears over my stall. Pale skin. Red hair.
I bite down on my arm to trap back a scream.
I fling myself out of the stall, rushing for the exit. But even in her current state, she’s faster than me.
Simon pushes the bathroom door open.
A staff member is hot on his heels. “Sir, you can’t be in here. This is only for women.”
“Rebekah,” Simon growls.
“Hello, Simon. Long time no see.” Her accent is thick and distinctly Russian.
A knife digs into my spine.
This could be the last moment of my life.
I’m going to die in a fucking public bathroom.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” the staff member asks, sensing my discomfort.
“Everything is perfect,” Rebekah croons, pushing the tip of the knife deeper into my back. “Isn’t that right, Verochka?”
Simon watches the situation unfold.
Why is he just watching and not doing anything?
“Yes, we’re fine,” I say.
The pressure of the knife is gone as soon as the staff member leaves. Because it moves to my throat now.
Simon keeps the door open using his weight.
“Rebekah, put that fucking knife away.”
“No.”
“I won’t ask you again.”
“Don’t.”
I keep my eyes on the ceiling. The knife bites into my skin.
Is this really the end?
Konstantin, Papa’s senior guard, used to make snide remarks sometimes about how I wouldn’t last a day without my father’s protection.
I’m starting to wonder if that’s actually true.
“You’re going to regret this, Rebekah,” Simon says in a dry voice.
There’s more emotion from the person trying to kill me.
“You left me to die,” Rebekah seethes.
“Only because I thought you were already dead,” Simon says.
“Is that also what you thought when you left me at the Institute? After you promised to come back for me?”
My heart is erratic as I listen to the girl.
She’s playing it cool, but there’s a rawness in her voice. Betrayal and anger.
It’s starting to become clear to me that Simon left out some parts of the story.
“We’ve already been through this.” He sighs.
“What’s so special about this girl, huh?” she asks. “I’m not good enough for you to come back to, but she is?”
“That was different,” Simon says.
“How?”
“Let her go, and I’ll explain.”
Her muscles tense. She’s about to do it. A single flick of her wrist, and I’ll bleed to death.
But then her arms slacken.
I dart toward Simon.
Both of us watch as Rebekah’s eyes get droopy.
“What did you- what did you do?” she slurs, abandoning her English for Russian now.
“I see that you got to her first,” Simon says to me.
“Root powder of a nightshade in her coffee,” I reply. It took longer than I expected for it to act.
The ones I got this morning must not be as potent as the ones I’m used to.
“You. You tripped on purpose,” Rebekah slurs, leaning against a wall.
Now that she’s not trying to kill me, I realize that she’s kind of cute.
Her limbs are long and sinewy. There’s goodness in her eyes right now.
I wonder which side of her is the real Rebekah—the assassin or the sad-eyed girl.
Simon reaches her right before she slumps to the floor.
“What’s it going to do to her?” There’s a hint of concern in his voice.
Where was this concern when there was a knife to my throat?
I watch them for a moment.
“It’s going to put her in a deep sleep,” I say coldly.
“You poisoned her?”
I search his haunting eyes and wonder how many other secrets he has. “She’ll wake up in a few hours. No other side effects.”