Sister Death (Acid Vanilla Series Book 4), Matthew Hattersley [best book club books for discussion .TXT] 📗

glided down the corridor, reaching into the bag for the room key as she went. Once at the door, she laid her ear silently against it. She could hear the faint rumble of synthesized bass, another of Danny’s dance tracks coming from the TV, but nothing else. Slowly she slid the key in the lock, gritting her teeth at the click as it opened. Keeping her aim high, she opened the door and slipped through into the hallway. Scoping out the bedroom she saw her overnight bag laid out on top of the unmade bed, exactly as she’d left it. Nothing unusual there. The bathroom light was on but she couldn’t remember whether she’d turned it off or not. Besides, Danny could have used it, it wasn’t a sign of an intruder. Leaving the bedroom she moved to the end of the hallway and positioned herself flat against the wall. With her eyes closed, she cast her awareness into the room on the other side. Her heightened senses told her there was no movement, no presence of another soul. That meant one of two things. The room was empty, or she was too late. A quick scan of the floors and walls showed no sign of blood spatter. So with her breath tight in her chest, and gripping the pistol with all she had, she stepped around the corner. The couch still had a Danny-shaped indentation in the cushions and the TV was on (the same Spanish music channel, showing a crowd of bronzed millennials dancing moronically on a beach), but no Danny. And no Magpie.

“What the…”

She spun around to take in the far side of the room, as if perhaps she’d missed him in the kitchen. But no. The place was empty.

So where the bloody hell was he?

Her next thought wasn’t a good one. Magpie had beaten her here, drugged him, and taken him somewhere to finish the job at her own sadistic pace. She had form for that sort of thing. She might have even taken him to Delgado, she mused, as dark chaotic images flashed in front of her face. It wasn’t unheard of for clients to request pulling the trigger themselves. Although, she herself had never agreed to it in her sixteen years in the industry. For her that sort of murder tourism was gauche and undermined everything she’d worked so hard for. If someone hired her to do a job, then she did it her way.

She went into the kitchen. There was no sign anywhere of a struggle. Would Danny have simply walked out with her? At gunpoint maybe, but knowing the brash Irishman even for a short time, she couldn’t imagine it. He was a pain in the arse, and didn’t seem to be able to take anything seriously, but he was tough and he was savvy.

With her head still spinning with possibilities, she pulled her phone out, wondering if she should call The Dullahan. He wouldn’t be happy about the situation, but he also might have heard something. From Danny, even.

The idea was cut short however when a moment later she heard the sound of a key in a lock. Leaping over to the side of the room, she positioned herself next to the open doorway. It had to be Magpie. She’d disposed of Danny and was coming back for her.

She waited. Still and unblinking. That thousand-yard stare she’d perfected over the years. A face ready for battle.

Footsteps crept down the hallway. One, two, three… One more step and they’d be in the room. Acid adjusted her grip on the nine, holding it with both hands up at shoulder height as the intruder rounded the corner. Once in her peripheral vision she made her move, smashing a sharp elbow into their side before stepping around to take the shot.

“Shite. What the—”

“Danny?” She kept the gun raised, but already loosening her finger on the trigger as she stared at the bedraggled figure in front of her. “I almost shot you.”

“Well please don’t,” he yelled back, holding a white carrier bag up to his face that clinked with the sound of glass bottles. “It’s me. Calm down.”

She lowered the gun. “What’s going on? I told you to stay here.”

“I woke up and I was thirsty. Went to get a few beverages for us.” He held out the bag for her. “See? Nice bottle of Jameson and a few beers.”

“You fucking idiot,” she shouted, in a rare and unrestrained show of emotion. “I thought you were dead, or… I don’t know… But still, Magpie’s on her way. She knows where we are.”

“What? No she doesn’t. How?”

The bluntness of his response shook her alert. She gulped back a mouthful of air. “She was coming down to the city… to finish her mission. Someone heard her… A nun…” She trailed off, doubting herself suddenly. Because without Raaz Terabyte’s eye in the sky, it would indeed be hard for Magpie to know where they were. Unless she had some insider information. A mole. Carlos, perhaps? Sonny? Was that it? Or was this the bats and the baking sun (not to mention the dark presence, still there in the back of her psyche) leading her down a blind alley of paranoia?

She glared at Danny, her readiness to kill turning to confusion and now to rage. “I told you to stay here.”

“Yes, but I wanted a drink. I was bored.”

“Y-You were bored? Oh fucking hell, I do apologise, is being on the run from a trained killer too dull for you?” She shook her head, muttering more obscenities under her breath. “How did you get back in?”

Danny held up a key and grinned. “Got a spare from Carlos. No worries.”

“No worries? You’re a bloody idiot, you know that? I don’t know what I was thinking going along with your stupid plan. But it’s over. All of it. First thing tomorrow you’re on a plane home.”

“Ah come on, Acid. No. Please.” He stepped towards her and lowered his chin, practically fluttering his