The Assassin's Prayer by Allen Mark

Author:Allen, Mark [Allen, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Published: 2013-12-03T16:00:00+00:00

Kain arrived at the Arbor Apartments wondering if he was too late. The early morning traffic around Albany had been a snarled mess of congestion that had shaved precious minutes from the clock.

The sun was just coming up as he walked down the rough, weed-sprouting sidewalks. The rays caromed off cracked concrete and crumbling bricks, bleaching the color from the urban scenery as Kain went into the apartment building.

Silas was inside the lobby, leaning against the wall at the foot of the stairs. Pierre was nowhere in sight, presumably already upstairs taking care of business. “What are you doing here?” Silas demanded.

Without breaking stride, Kain fired a right cross that Silas never saw coming. The blow caught him flush on the jaw, whipped his head around, and sent him slithering to the floor, out cold.

Kain bounded up the stairs to the fourth floor and made his way to apartment 4C. He reached inside his duster and wrapped his fingers around the butt of his Colt .45 when he saw a blood-puddle seeping out from under the door. He felt something deep inside him recoil and wither. He was too late. The woman was dead.

He drew the Colt with his right hand and nudged the door with his left. It opened at his touch, revealing torn hinges and a splintered jamb. The coppery scent of blood rushed out at him, the bitter taint biting into the back of his throat.

But it wasn’t the woman’s blood like he had expected. He gazed down at the blown-open carcass of a German Shepherd. The glassy eyes seemed to stare up at him with a mute plea. Kain saw a glint of metal through the mess of blood. It was the dog’s tag and even through the gore, he could read the name.

SIRIUS.

Kain felt something dark and cold touch the edges of his heart. Then he heard the desperate cry from the back of the apartment.

“No, please!”

Kain rushed toward the sound of Larissa’s voice, tracing its echo into the bedroom. Emotions wrenched at him, screamed through his veins, ignited something deep within his soul, setting his blood on fire.

The bedroom door was half-open. Through the gap he saw Larissa bound, naked, and spread-eagled. Pierre was positioned between her legs, on the brink of penetration. Kain felt all control snap. Rage sliced through him like a million hot razors, twisting his face into something feral. The very air swirled red before his eyes.

He kicked open the door. Pierre hesitated in mid-thrust, head jerking toward the violent intrusion. “What the—” Then he saw the .45 in Kain’s fist. “Hold on, wait a second, man, you don’t want—”

Kain cut loose with the Colt, the bullets ripping out Pierre’s throat. Whatever he’d been about to say vanished in a spray of scarlet froth. The impact hurled him off the bed and onto the floor. Blood spattered onto Larissa’s face and chest, the crimson shockingly bright on her pale skin.

The sight further fanned the flames of rage burning in Kain’s heart, blinding him to all thoughts save that of vengeance.

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