Welcome to the Alliance, Izz (Part 2)
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!
The wound in Izz’s shoulder stung worse in the morning as she pulled on a fresh clean tank top, but the bandage she’d applied held fast. The water from her curls dripped down her back and shoulders, and she relished the cool feeling. The morning shower had calmed her system, but a pit of embarrassment stayed in her gut. She’d pissed herself. She’d pissed herself in front of not only the hottest man she’d seen in ages, but the deadliest one too. There was no doubt in her mind he would have told Maureen. Her cheeks heated in anticipation of how the woman would torture her with her new information.
The smell of cooking filled the air as she stepped into the hall, and despite her growing dread, her stomach growled. No one had cooked a real meal since Eileen left. Cereal or chicken nuggets were her cuisine of choice, and Maureen had pre-made food delivered–Izz just needed to heat it up. She paused outside Maureen's door, leaning an ear against it. The day nurse should be in, unless Mason had sent him away too. But she could hear the soft music he played, indicating he was in the room.
Izz’s hand hesitated on the handle. She should check in. She was supposed to be in there. But stepping back into the room with the woman who tried to kill her was less appealing than going to see what the man who threatened to kill her had made for breakfast. Her stomach growled again and she followed the scent of coffee, eggs, and cinnamon rolls to the kitchen.
She stopped in the doorway, not wanting to startle him. Mason stood at the counter, his back to her while he chopped something on the cutting board. The skillet sizzled on the stovetop beside him, onions and garlic already cooking, and fresh baked cinnamon rolls sat in the middle of the table.
“Are you going to come in or just stand there? I hear you’re good at that.”
She swallowed the fuck off sitting on her tongue and stepped into the room. “How did you know I was there?” she asked.
He scooped the food off the board and dropped it into the pan. Bacon sizzled and onions, the aroma making Izz salivate. He carried the cutting board and knife over to the sink to wash. Izz’s gaze eyed the blade, the pressure of the gun suddenly fresh in her mind.
“You walk like an elephant. I heard you leave your room, hover outside Maureen’s door, and then finish your trek down here like you were announcing yourself to the world.” She pulled her eyes away from the blade and looked up. Mason’s eyes were just as cold as they were earlier, but his face seemed more relaxed. “I assume you drink coffee?”
Izz’s mouth couldn’t decide if it wanted to be open or closed. This man had threatened to kill her, and was now making her breakfast. Her brother had a word for that: toxic.
He picked up a mug, filled it with the hot liquid, and held it out. She accepted, wrapping her fingers around the steaming mug and lowered herself in a chair at the table, not sure what else to do.
“I expected you to flee the property last night,” Mason admitted. He poured himself a mug and leaned against the counter. “I had the guards on high alert. I’ll admit, it takes balls to stay here.” He took a slow sip before tilting his head. A smirk played on his lips, a glint of amusement flashing in his eyes. “Or sheer stupidity.”
“Neither,” Izz said, and took a sip of her coffee. “Desperation. I have nowhere to run to. At least here I have food, boarding, a paycheck, and eventually–a name.”
“Won’t do you much good if you die before you can use it.”
Izz took another sip of coffee. He wasn’t wrong. But what good was the name if she didn’t have the means to do anything about it either? If she could do a quarter of what Mason could do, the person who had ruined her life would pay. Eileen had told her a year–she just had to last eight more months. She could learn a lot in eight months, if he didn’t kill her first.
He stirred the bacon, and they fell into silence as he finished cooking. She picked up one of the cinnamon rolls, the icing sticking to her fingertips when she unrolled a piece and popped it in her mouth. She shot a glance to Mason’s back, the sweet melting in her mouth. It was the best damn cinnamon roll she’d ever had. The man could cook.
He plated two servings of eggs and bacon and brought them over, placing one in front of her and dropped into a seat.
“Thank you,” she said. She hadn’t eaten a real breakfast in ages. She took a bite, her eyes falling closed, the taste nearly orgasmic. “This is delicious.”
“You need to eat more than cereal and chicken nuggets if you are going to be of any use to us.”
She met his judging gaze. “I didn’t want to spend unnecessary money,” Izz admitted. Eileen was paying her–but she couldn’t touch the funds for the year. Instead everything that she needed had been provided through the house’s expenses. Izz had been too afraid to ask how much she could spend, so had settled on as little as possible. “It’s fine.”
Mason laughed, the same full laughter he’d shared with Maureen, and Izz’s cheeks heated again. It took several minutes before he could speak. “You could request gold-leaf sushi, wagyu steak, and Cristal for every meal and no one would blink an eye, although I’m starting to see why Eileen chose you. Money is probably the only thing you don’t need to worry about from now on now on out. A healthy diet is non-negotiable if I’m training you.” He took a bite of the food, a satisfied moan leaving his throat. “I’m sorry about your brother.”
The sudden mention of Jordan sent a wave of sadness through her, and she put her fork down, her appetite abandoning her. Her perfectly laid plan to pretend everything was fine was unraveling the longer she stayed around Mason, as if he knew just to undo her composure.
“It’s how almost all of us end up here, in this business. Chasing vengeance for our loved ones.”
Izz licked her lips, the need to talk about anyone but Jordan overtaking her. “Who was it for you?”
He took another bite of food before answering, not an ounce of emotion reaching his face as he said, “My entire family. I was 13.”
“And did you get your vengeance?”
That pulled an emotion out of him, his jaw ticked before he answered. “Not yet.”
They fell into silence again. Izz picked her fork back up and rolled the information over in her head. If this man–the Reaper–hadn’t gotten justice for his family, what hope did she have? Maybe this was a fool’s errand, a way to run away from her grief–her loneliness. Eileen’s offer had been better than the unknown, or so she thought. She pushed her half eaten plate away.
Mason raised an eyebrow. “Not to your liking?”
“No. It’s-it’s delicious.” She licked her lips, trying to formulate the thought into words. But what she wanted to know suddenly felt too personal, and she shook her head. “Thank you for breakfast.”
“We meet in two hours in the pit to restart your training,” he said as she stood. “And Izz? Use the bathroom before you show up this time.”
________________
Mason wasn’t alone when she arrived at the training pit. A taller man with unruly brown hair stood beside him, arms crossed and a serious look on his face. His brown eyes flicked to her as she approached but he didn’t stop talking. “Storm said it will work and I stopped questioning her a long time ago.”
“And you can stay?” Mason asked.
“For a month. Andrew has me covered.”
“It will be better than nothing. Shaun, this is Izz. Izz, Shaun. He’s the new head of security until I can get a permanent replacement.”
“What happened to Victor?” she asked, although she had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer.
“You did. Do you know how long he’d worked for me? Longer than I expect you to last in this line of work. But Eileen is intent on keeping you, so he got a bullet and you got a pass.”
The blood drained from Izz’s face. “I–”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll have a replacement here in a month.” He turned to Shaun. “Remember when we thought we could train a rock to dodge bullets? That was light years easier than what this is going to be.”
A smirk lit up Shaun’s face. “Got it.”
If Izz could have died on the spot, she would have. For the average person, her skill wasn’t terrible. She’d handled plenty of drunk men that were bigger than her. Mason didn’t give a warning this time. He lunged. A shocked yell left her and she back peddled, falling on her ass. He didn’t touch her though, just looked back at Shaun with an ‘I told you so’ set to his face.
Anger swirled in her chest, tears threatening to surface. But she couldn’t give Mason the satisfaction after pissing herself yesterday. He might convince Eileen she couldn’t stay. Maybe he’d just get rid of her like Victor, or worse–they would send her away without a name and she would be left with the knowledge she’d failed Jordan. He stepped forward, looking down his nose at her. “Get up.”
Izz didn’t say anything, willing her heart to slow down and her emotions to land anywhere besides terrified. The look of contempt Mason gave her tipped her emotional scale toward irate. Izz wasn’t his plaything and she wasn’t an easy target. She pushed up to her knees and launched herself at his legs, wrapping her arms around both and dragging him to the ground. She started to climb up his body, the only thought of putting her fist to his face driving her. The cool press of metal touching her neck froze her progress, heart slamming in her throat. The pressure moved from her throat to her chin, lifting her face to meet his eyes. She stilled. Mason’s arm was outstretched with, what she assumed was a knife, pressed against her throat. Gone was the disdain from his gaze. Instead, she met something akin to approval.
“There she is,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
“The woman Eileen saw inside of you.” He dragged the blade away from her chin, and Izz shot her hand to the spot to see if he’d drawn blood–he hadn’t. He pulled himself free and Shuan offered a hand, yanking him to his feet. “Now, let’s try this again.”
The best part of the six hour training–Mason no longer looked at her like a useless piece of trash, and she didn’t piss her pants this time. The worst was that every inch of her body had been struck with enough force to knock out a child. By the end of the session Izz was glad Victor was dead–he hadn’t prepared for this in the slightest. She peeled her sweaty and filthy clothes off in her bathroom and gingerly stepped into the cold shower. Her legs shook, and she lowered herself to the floor instead, letting the cold water beat against her skin.
Her mind was mush–but the good kind where after a good night sleep she may have retained something from the training session. She closed her eyes, Jordan’s smiling face coming to the surface. Anger pulsed through her again, Mason’s words borrowed beneath her skin. Not yet. She wanted to ask him why not. Ask him how they had died. Would he stop killing after he got his vengeance?
By the time she stepped out of the shower she needed to relieve the night nurse for their evening break, but her gut turned at the thought. Izz hadn’t stepped foot into the room since Maureen impaled her with a pen. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open.
Panic stirred in her chest as her eyes fell on the empty bed and she scanned the room until her gaze landed on Maureen and the nurse–using a walker along the open wall. It took a few seconds for the image to make sense, and her mouth fell open.
“Never seen a cripple walk before?” Maureen said, sweat drenching her brow and her arms shook with the effort of holding herself up.
Izz shook her head and stepped fully into the room. “I’ve never seen a stubborn cripple walk before. What changed your mind?”
“I haven’t missed my mark since I was a teen,” Maureen said, nodding at Izz’s shoulder. “I don’t plan to miss again.”
“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Izz said, but smiled as she took her seat by the door and pulled out a crossword puzzle. She had spent the first few months trying to not make waves. To follow the ambiguous rules that shifted around her. But making waves had incited Maureen to do something, and Izz realized Maureen needed an adversary she could conquer. All Izz needed to do was be slow enough Maureen believed she could kill her, but learn fast enough to not actually die.
Yeah. No problem.