Welcome to the Alliance, Izz (Part 1)

Author's Note: This is a sneak peek of a work in progress. Izz has requested her story be told, and who am I to deny her? This takes place about 10 years before The Assassin’s Legacy.

Spoiler Alert! This Patreon Short contains spoilers for books 2 & 3 of The Assassin's Legacy Series. I would highly advise reading those before continuing.

Enjoy!

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Izz

"This will be your home for the next year," Eileen said turning off the engine. Izz took in the average-looking two-story home through the dusty windshield. Two guards snapped to attention on the porch as Eileen stepped out, their hands tightening on their rifles. Izz swallowed hard. She'd never seen guns this close. 

"You still haven't fully explained what I'm doing here," Izz said, stepping out onto the dirt driveway. The warm air kissed her skin, the taste of seawater in the air. "Are we close to the coast?"

Eileen nodded to the right. "Just past the tree line. You can hear the water better from the backyard."

The guards nodded at Eileen as she stepped up onto the porch and eyed Izz, but said nothing to her. "There are round-the-clock guards on the compound, and only six authorized people to enter this house. You now make seven."

Izz's mouth went dry, and she followed Eileen into the house. "Your job is to report to me, about everything related to what is happening with your charge.” 

"Okay," Izz said. “But, why?”

"I haven't been completely honest with you," Eileen confessed as they entered the kitchen. "Coffee?"

Izz nodded and leaned against the counter. Whatever Eileen was into, Izz knew it was bad. The pay was too good–the promises too big. But Izz didn't have the means to look into it further, and it was either take a chance with this lady or starve and end up homeless on the streets. 

"We flew on a private jet to a foreign country–I didn't even need a passport to get here, which was good because I don't have one. We're in the middle of nowhere with armed guards on the porch who jumped to attention when you stepped out of the car, and who didn't even bother asking who I am. If I had any sense at all, I would be scared. I'm just grateful I'm not trying to decide if I'm paying the electricity or buying food this week."

Eileen held out a cup of black coffee. "Cream? Sugar?" 

Izz shook her head and took a sip, the intense notes of chocolate and citrus surprised her. "This is delicious."

Eileen nodded with a small smile. "It should be. The beans are harvested down the road."

Izz tilted her head in confusion.

"We're in Costa Rica."

The coffee went sour in her stomach, and she swallowed hard. "Did I just sign myself up for a drug cartel?" 

Eileen laughed and took a seat at the table. "Nothing so crude. And you said you didn't want to do anything illegal. I can respect that. I work for a covert operations organization, and like I said, you're being brought in to care for one of our assets."

"You said protection detail?" Izz’s eyes flicked to the front of the house. "I can't offer anything compared to those men with guns."

"All in due time. It's not what you can do now. It's your potential I hired you for. Now, there is one hard rule here: only authorized personnel can enter the building. If they so much as cross the threshold they’re considered a threat and will be eliminated.”

Izz’s mouth went dry. “Eliminated? As in…”

Eileen smirked. “Killed.”

“This person must be pretty important.”

“You can’t even imagine,” Eileen agreed. “Now besides us, the only people who can enter the building are the day nurse, night nurse, the on-call surgeon, and the head of security, Victor, who will be enlightening you on our security protocol and several forms of combat, should you need it.”

A smile found its way on Izz’s face. Martial arts was something familiar. Something she was good at. “That’s six. Who is the seventh?”

“Mason, also known as The Reaper.”

Izz’s jaw dropped open. “The Reaper?” The name alone brought images of carnage and mass graves. 

“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not even close to the reality, which is much much worse. I don’t know that he will even be around, but just in case, you know.”

She nodded, not sure Eileen realized what a vivid imagination Izz possessed. Surely no human could be that bad. Was it too late to turn back? Return home and find an old flame, or new one, to crash with? She sipped the coffee to wet her tongue as her heart beat painfully in her chest. 

“Finish your drink,” Eileen said, downing her own cup and rinsing it in the sink. “I'll bring you to meet your charge."

Izz chugged the hot liquid, pretending it was more of a shot than a breakfast drink, in hopes it calmed her nerves. But she didn’t feel in danger. It was actually the safest she had felt in a long time, even with the image of a man running a spear through people and collecting them like kabobs seared into her mind.

Eileen led her into a room that sat in stark contrast to the homey feel of the rest of the house. Where hardwood floors guided the way, state of the art medical equipment, a hospital bed, and a white tile floor met her. "This doubles as an operating room,” Eileen said, “in case she codes or we need to perform emergency surgery. Izz, meet my best friend, Maureen." 

Meet was an overstatement. The woman in the bed was asleep, which Izz was grateful for because she let out a gasp of horror. Red scars crawled up the woman's neck and face, and her hair was shaved. Izz inched into the room, unable to pull her eyes away from the scarred woman.

"I know, it's not pretty," Eileen said.

"What happened to her?"

"Someone tried to kill her."

"Why?"

"Because she threatened to kill him first, I'm sure," Eileen said with a laugh and then sobered. "She's not going to be happy to have a babysitter. In fact, she will hate it and threaten to kill you–many many times. Don't underestimate her, she could–if she were in a better state.” 

__________________________

"She's a companion," Eileen said with exasperation. 

Izz leaned outside Maureen’s bedroom. It’d been a month. A month of Maureen glaring and throwing insults, while Eileen assured her Maureen would come around. But Eileen was leaving today, and Izz had to prove she could handle Maureen if she had any hope of keeping this job and finding out who killed her brother.

"I don't need her,” Maureen countered.

"I do. For my peace of mind," Eileen said. “I have to return to New York. Elijah’s been…Well, I need to get back.” 

“You should have let me die,” Maureen said. The words sent a chill through Izz. She’d felt that way after Jordan died. Alone, useless. But no one had tried to kill her. What had happened to Maureen for her to end up in such a state, scarred and broken and hidden off in a foreign country? Guilt for eavesdropping settled in her stomach, but she didn’t move. “What good am I to anyone? I’m a fucking cripple.” Her voice cracked on the last word. 

“Shut up.” Eileen’s words came out exasperated. “I’ll be back in a few months. The nurses are on rotation, and Izz is not going anywhere. Get used to it.”

Silence followed her words, and a few moments later the door opened. Izz turned her head as Eileen stepped into the hall, and nodded for Izz to follow. They didn’t speak until they reached the kitchen. Eileen braced her hands against the sink and dropped her head forward. “She’s losing hope,” Eileen said. 

“How long has she been incapacitated?” Izz sat on the table and leaned back on her hands.

“Too long,” Eileen said. She turned around, the bags beneath her eyes the darkest Izz had seen yet. 

“I feel like I haven’t done anything,” Izz admitted. “Between the guards and the nurses–”

“You’re a new face. She hasn’t spoken to you because she can’t read you. She doesn’t know what you're capable of. Just that I trust you. And that is enough for you to be a threat. Are you clear on the schedule?”

Izz nodded. “I’m by her side unless a nurse is in the room.”

“The night nurse will ring you when they need to use the bathroom. She cannot be left alone yet.”

“You’re really worried she’ll off herself.”

Eileen licked her lips, brow furrowing before she answered. “If she dies, I’m not only losing my best friend–we’re losing the only wealth of knowledge on how to take down one of the most dangerous criminals in the United States. I need her to want to live. I need her to want something. Nurses and guards and best friends can only do so much.”

Izz’s mouth went dry. Although she wasn’t fully privy to who she worked for, at least she could be assured she was working for the good guys. “And why do you think I can do anything?”

“Because,” Eileen said, giving a smile. “You two are more alike than you know. If anyone can get her back on her feet, it’s you. Just have patience.”

Izz swallowed hard. Eileen’s confidence in her did not provide an ounce of comfort. What she had in common with the woman upstairs, she couldn’t fathom. But the stakes for failing suddenly felt monumental. Izz gave a tentative laugh. “Yeah. No pressure or anything.”

_______________

"Why did she pick you?" Maureen asked from the bed. Izz looked up from her crossword puzzle, startled. It was the first words Maureen had spoken to her in the month since Eileen had left, aside from the slew of insults she tossed Izz's way.

"I'm sorry?" Izz said. She glanced at the door, but the nurse was on his break, leaving no buffer between the two of them.

"There are a billion people who could sit there and look like a lazy piece of shit. Why you?"

"I've wondered the same thing," Izz said, ignoring the insult as a swirl of excitement rushed through her chest. The fear that Eileen would change her mind haunted Izz. Each night she would send a report detailing every minute interaction Maureen had; what she ate; and her mood. It had been exceptionally boring, and the easiest money Izz had ever made. It was only a matter of time until Eileen fired her. "I'm gonna go with dumb luck."

"Oh, I don't think luck is on your side, darling. There's only one way you leave this life if you're lucky, and that's a bullet to your head. If I had a weapon, I’d do you the favor."

"I guess you're not that lucky either. Who'd you piss off to be burned alive? I’m guessing you weren’t worthy of the bullet."

"Fuck off," Maureen spat.

Izz sat up straighter. "What are you going to do to me from your bed?" Izz scoffed and dropped the crossword puzzle into the small basket beneath the chair. She picked up the apple she'd stored there and sat back, taking a bite. Eileen insisted they needed her to get out of her bed of her own accord. Bribing her hadn't worked. Maybe instigating her would–and to be honest, Izz was tired of holding her tongue. "You're a whole lot of bark and no bite. A cripple. This is the easiest money I've ever made."

Maureen's scar contorted and a healthy dose of fear coursed through Izz. Maureen threw the covers from her lap, swinging her legs around the side of the bed. Izz leaned forward in her seat, the apple falling from her hand, as Maureen's feet pressed into the tile. She hadn't seen Maureen move this much since she'd been here–even the day nurse couldn't get her to voluntarily move for physical therapy. But without the blanket covering them, Izz saw just how emancipated her legs looked–twig-like, as if they hadn't been used in years.

"Maureen..."

Maureen's hand reached for the nightstand, and Izz saw the fountain pen too late. Maureen’s fingers wrapped around it and the projectile flew across the room. There wasn't a second to react before a searing pain radiated through Izz’s left shoulder and a scream crawled up her throat. Her hand grasped at the pen now lodged deep in her shoulder, but she didn't take her eyes off Maureen as the woman pushed herself to her feet, body shaking.

"Maureen," Izz said between gritted teeth. "Please don't." She would end up flat on the cold floor and Eileen would have Izz's head.

"You think I’m a cripple?" Maureen ground out. She took a step forward and Izz got to her feet. "Do you know how many people I have killed? How many people I've sacrificed to be where I am?" She took another step, but the leg gave out. Izz lunged, closing the distance before Maureen’s knees touched the ground, slowing Maureen's descent. The ungrateful woman shoved at Izz but she refused to let go, Maureen's body feeling fragile in her arms. She was just skin and bones.

Pain seared in her shoulder again and another scream left Izz. She glanced down, Maureen pushing the pen deeper into Izz's skin. Izz let go and dropped back on her ass, gritting her teeth against the pain as Maureen dropped hard to all fours. "Could have fooled me," Izz spat and grabbed the pen. Another cry left her as she yanked it out. "Big scary assassin. You can't even walk." Izz tossed the bloodied pen in front of her and glared. "Better luck next time, bitch."

"Watch your mouth," a deep voice said from the doorway.

Izz's gaze snapped up. A man with a mess of black hair and dark eyes barely glanced at her, his attention drawn to Maureen's crumpled form on the floor. His face fell and he rushed to her side, bruised and battered hands grabbing around Maureen's middle.

"Get off me," Maureen said, trying to push herself up again.

"Don't be a fucking idiot," the man said. He slid his arm beneath her armpits and guided her back to the bed.

Izz stared at the pair. Whoever this man was–this was the most agreeable Maureen had been since Izz had arrived. Even Eileen didn't get this side of her. "Do you have an update?" Maureen asked him.

"I wouldn't be here otherwise," he said and turned to appraise Izz, still sitting on the ground, hand pressed to the bleeding wound in her shoulder. He picked up the pen and turned back around to Maureen. "Really?"

"She offended me."

He scoffed, pocketed the pen, and reached down for Izz. She accepted the offered hand and he hauled her up. "Mason,” he said.

So this was the infamous Reaper–the shadow she'd heard about. He didn't look terrifying–he looked fuckable if she was being honest. "Izz,” she offered.

"May I?" He gestured to her shoulder and she nodded, sucking a breath as he prodded. He chuckled–the sound foreign in the room and it sent a jolt of warmth through her. "You'll be just fine."

"I didn't think I was going to die.”

"Oh, I wouldn't let that thought stray too far from your mind. It's going to be what keeps you alive in this line of work. Will you give us a minute?"

"Uh..." Izz looked between the two. Eileen's instructions were clear, she wasn't to leave–except to eat, shit, and sleep. "I'm not supposed to."

"It's fine," Maureen said with a smile that sent chills through Izz. "She's on Eileen's teat like a lost kitten. I don't trust her, but should she need to be handled, it's not like she'll be missed."

Heat flooded Izz's face, the words a sudden hit, and she fought the tears stinging her eyes. She wouldn't give Maureen the satisfaction of knowing just how hard a blow that was. But she wasn't wrong. Izz had jumped on the plane and signed her life away to a woman she'd met at the lowest point in her life–just a few short weeks ago. They could dispose of her and no one in the world would be none the wiser. The thought hurt more than she ever wanted anyone to know, and she swallowed around the lump rising in her throat.

Mason regarded her. His lips pursed, eyes on her as if he could read her very soul. Would he be disappointed to know she'd sold it for room, board, and medical? "What?" she asked, adding more attitude behind it than necessary to rope in the spiral she'd begun.

His lips twitched into a smile again, gaze roving over her. "You're an interesting choice–that's all."

Izz scoffed. That certainly wasn't a compliment, and she was suddenly very aware of the extra weight she'd put on since Jordan died. "Nice to meet you, too." She returned to her seat by the door and raised an eyebrow in challenge. Fuck this guy. She answered to Eileen.

"Your funeral," Mason said and turned back to Maureen. He took a seat on the foot of the bed, one leg folded beneath him. "They're growing on me, the scars."

"You're an ass. How's Andrew?"

"Struggling. Storm is setting up a secure communication for us so he can talk to you. We've been assuring him you are okay but–"

"He won't believe it until he sees me. I know. He was like that when I was gone on assignment in Prague. Tell Storm I appreciate it. Honestly. What about…that other thing?"

Mason nodded and then glanced over at Izz before speaking again. "They're secured."

"Does it look like he'll make a move?"

Mason shook his head. "Some type of maternal instincts seemed to have kicked in–hence the island vacation." Izz caught the scowl that crossed Maureen's face, the entire map of scars on her face dancing. "That's a good thing, Moe."

Maureen nodded, her demeanor shifting from annoyed to something Izz couldn't quite put a name to. "Aeron and Decius?"

"Surviving. Sarah's done a great job guiding them through the grief. And they're young–Legacy heirs are resilient."

"So I've heard." Izz caught the edge in her voice.

"We'll get them all out," Mason said. "But it has to be surgical. We can’t make a single mistake."

"I know. Trust me–if anyone understands how ruthless Elijah is, it's me."

He dropped his hand to Maureen's leg, patting it with a reassuring gesture. "He'll pay. They'll all pay. Long game, remember?"

Maureen's face darkened. "I made you that promise and you know I don't break my promises."

He stood and looked back at Izz. Her face heated again as his gaze roved over her. "Let's get that wound cleaned up, and then get you started on some basic training. The five-year-olds at the Institute could have avoided a flying pen."

"You're not even supposed to be here. My orders–"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it," he said, his tone condescending. "Call Eileen. Get your permissions." He leaned against the foot of the bed and crossed his arms.

Izz pulled out her phone and called the only number in it. It rang a few times before Eileen's voice answered. "Yes?"

"Mason is here–"

"For fuck's sake. He’s supposed to be on assignment. Let me talk to him."

Izz bit back the urge to groan and passed the phone over to Mason's already waiting hand. "You accuse me of being careless with lives. Did you just pick the easiest fucking target for Maureen to play with to boost her ego? A few inches to the right and we'd be burying your babysitter."

Izz swallowed hard, her hand touching her wound and moving to the right, realizing Maureen had been aiming for her throat. Maureen leaned around Mason and smirked. The look both infuriated and thrilled her. But her heart sank–it hadn’t been Izz who managed to drag out this side of Maureen–it had been Mason. 

"I can stay the week," Mason continued. "I'm on an R&E (Recon and eliminate). I can milk it for a few extra days. Gives me time to get the body double down here... Sounds good." He held the phone to her, and Izz took it back.

"Yes?"

"Did she really try to kill you?" Eileen asked.

"With a pen."

"Why?”

"I called her a cripple."

"Watch your mouth, girl. I won't miss next time," Maureen threatened.

"You pissed her off," Eileen said, the relief in her voice reaching Izz over the phone. "Good."

"Good?" Izz said, her voice rising several octaves.

"You managed to do what I couldn't. Spark the desire to do something. Give her some space to cool down. Mason's going to give you a crash course on... well everything. Good luck."

_________

Good luck? Izz was starting to believe Maureen was right about luck. Izz didn't need it–she needed skill. What little training she'd done in the past and what Victor had attempted to teach her these last few weeks was laughable compared to what this man could do. It was like putting a toddler on the front line of a war, but Izz would bet the toddler would have faired better than she did right now.

She lay sprawled on her back. The wind had not just knocked out of her–it had been chased away and was never coming back. "Again," Mason said, looking down at her.

It took several attempts to breathe before she could get air into her lungs, let alone answer him. "You're a fucking dick."

"You don't know the half of it. I thought you were training with Victor in the evenings."

"Ah." Izz licked her lips with a small laugh. The training with Victor had started honestly–in this same training pit behind the main house. But it only took a few nights for that training to end in his bedroom, where they certainly worked up a sweat that she could credit her current stamina to. But actual training? "Funny story..."

"This isn't a joke," he spat. "You can either get your ass up and go again, or I can put a bullet in you and find someone else. Honestly, it doesn't matter to me."

Izz scoffed and sat up, wiping her hand across her mouth, the blood bright red on her dark skin. "Is this because I called her a bitch?"

Mason grabbed the back of his neck, taking a deep breath before squatting beside her. He rested his elbows on his knees and the sudden proximity stole her air again as his cold gaze appraised her. "You have no idea what you stepped into, do you?" He shook his head when she didn't answer. "That woman up there? You will treat her with more respect than the Queen of fucking England, do you understand me?" Izz opened and closed her mouth a few times, the sudden intensity not nearly as sexy as she would have thought. He scowled when she still didn't answer and reached down to his ankle. He removed a small pistol and pressed the cold metal beneath her chin.

Everything in Izz froze–except her bladder, which found that exact moment to relieve itself. "Wai–wait."

"Like a fucking queen. Do you understand me?"

She nodded against the gun, the words not able to find their way out of her as easily as her piss had.

"Good." His eyes flicked to the puddle she sat in and back up. Heat flushed her face but she didn't dare move. He pulled the weapon back, a puzzled look crossing his face. "Where did Eileen find you?"

Izz licked her now dry lips before answering, the words thick in her throat. She'd only been here a few months–but it already seemed like a lifetime, and the sudden intrusive thought of Jordan ripped through her chest. She'd buried him–and every thought of him when she stepped onto that plane. What would he say if he could see her now? 

"My brother's funeral," Izz said, eyes still on the dull metal in his hand. It was smaller than she expected, but the feel of it pressed against her throat throbbed in her mind. "She agreed to tell me who killed him if I came and worked for her.” She looked up at him finally.

Mason's face gave nothing away to that confession, she might as well have said the street corner. "Go clean up," he said instead and stood. "We'll pick this up tomorrow."

The air became easier to breathe around her, and she gulped. "Where are you going?"

"To relieve Victor of his duty." He pulled the slide on his gun back halfway and tipped it to the side, looking in it before letting it go–the metal hitting metal making her jump.  

"Why?" She liked Victor. He was kind to her, one of the only people in the house who even talked to her. 

Mason's lip curled. "Fucking you was not in his job description. Preparing you to protect Maureen was." He turned on his heel and left.

Izz sat in her puddle of piss as he retreated, willing her heart to slow. Tears formed in her eyes. She swiped at them and pushed herself up, trying to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of warm wet jeans sticking to her already thick thighs as she retreated to the house. She didn't belong here. She didn't want to be here. But it was too late to leave, and now she was on The Reaper’s shit list. Great. Just fucking great.