Assassin Territory [Assassins Book 1] Read online

  “You stay where I can see you,” Lando warned sternly before he left.

  At one time, Christy would have been concerned at the fierce look he leveled on her. She came to the conclusion it was just his way. She supposed she should have been annoyed; after all, she wasn’t a child of three. Yet, she sensed his concern. It was dangerous out here. She couldn’t rebuff his want to protect her. It was a nice change from what she knew Chad would have done or said.

  Though Christy originally promised to obey Lando, it wasn’t the only reason she preferred to do as he commanded. Christy felt certain something was trailing after them in the brush. The hair on the back of her neck seemed to stay in a raised position. She followed closely after Lando on their trek, not letting his comforting, big form get more than a few feet away.

  The day warmed and the sun shone down through the trees, making sparkles alight on the water. An eagle soared overhead. The stream bubbled making her marvel it was talking, and a fish jumped. Christy sat complacently, warming her hands at the fire. Lando had removed his outer jacket, having become sweaty during their walk, and it lay a foot away from her. Picking it up, she studied it, noticing a small tear. It had been Sam’s jacket, and she remembered when Sam tore it on the branch of a tree while they were out taking pictures. She’d offered to fix it for him, but hadn’t gotten the chance.

  Eager to keep her hands occupied, Christy rifled through the duffel bag and came across her camera case. She fingered it lovingly for a brief moment, wondering if she would ever again take another picture. She allowed herself a brief moment of sadness before opening the case and removing her small sewing kit. She finished her last stitch when Lando returned.

  The fish he’d caught was gutted, and he proceeded to set it up over the fire. Christy looked at the fish, tummy rumbling. She quickly got over her squeamishness that sometimes Lando never bothered to scale it, while also leaving the head and tail attached.

  “Very nice,” Lando commented on her work as he once more donned his jacket.

  “Thank you. I had a very nice nanny who taught me to sew,” Christy commented, a touch primly. She remembered the sweet little puppets they made for a puppet show. Her mother had been proud of her painstaking work. Though on reflecting back, she realized the nanny had been more out of prestige than need. It was her father who insisted they have one. Her mother wanted to keep Christy close to her side.

  Lando snorted, and Christy was bumped from her fond memory; she scowled at the amused-condescending look on his face.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re a prissy little pampered, fluffy kitten aren’t you? Did she serve tea and crumpets to you and your mountain of dollies and cuddly stuffed animals?” Lando teased, his gaze alight with amusement.

  “So what if she did,” she said, bristling with annoyance. She could feel a slow blush creep over her face.

  Christy jumped, startled, as Lando suddenly roared with laughter. It was the first time she ever heard him laugh. She watched with wide-eyed amazement as he continued to howl, tears rolling down his eyes. His laughter faltered as his arms flailed and, losing his balance, he fell backwards off the log he’d been sitting on.

  “Well now, that was rather rude,” Christy said. She leaned back, shaking her head, watching him lay motionless for a moment, feet straight up, arms above his head resting on the forest floor.

  Lando struggled, making an awkward attempt to right himself, then sat up still laughing, swiping at his eyes.

  “I thought it was rather funny,” he said, mimicking her haughty tone.

  “Just because I had tea parties with a nanny isn’t something that should send you into hysterics,” Christy answered. Impishly, she crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You and I, sweetheart, are worlds apart,” Lando informed her. He was smiling with open amusement at her discomposure.

  “More like galaxies,” she rebuffed haughtily. Lando stopped smiling, his gaze began to narrow.

  “You think you’re better than me because you have money,” Lando said, his tone tight.

  “I don’t think I’m better, just different,” she replied, now wary.

  “Would you be surprised to learn I have money? In fact, I have a great deal of money,” Lando informed her.

  She could sense his anger was growing. Feeling apprehensive, though resigned, Christy muttered, “Blood money. You got rich off the suffering of others.”

  “Yes, I did. How many people do you think get rich off the suffering of others? A great many more do it legally. How many helpless people take their lives when everything is taken legally? How many innocents snap because of the pain another has caused them? Harassing phone calls people want to hide from, demanding money they don’t have or they wouldn’t be in the predicament they’re in. Vicious, mean people, who don’t know you. All they want is the almighty dollar, a fast buck. Legal fucking bullies. At least I have the guts to do it face to face. Not through litigation, and the people I have faced are anything but innocent or in need of a break, or a small amount of compassion.”

  “The man who taught you about the stars, did you kill him?”

  Lando checked on the fish, remaining quiet. Christy knew he was a killer. He’d never denied it. But she was struggling to understand why anyone would choose such a vicious profession, or did the profession choose him? She sensed his hesitation when he began to speak.

  “I can’t begin to describe to you about the people I know. Men who haven’t a shred of decency, an ounce of compassion or mercy. Cruel, evil men. Men with relentless, steely determination, who could move mountains if they so desired, instead would kill a helpless, frightened woman and her three-week-old baby girl,” Lando’s words trailed off, his mouth moved as though he tasted bitterness.

  “Is that what happened? Did you know them, were they close to you?” Christy asked, wide-eyed. She wondered at what kind of tragedy would make him cause the wrath of such soulless, brutal men on purpose.

  “I’d been ordered to kill them and a nine-year-old boy.”

  “Why would they think you would do such a thing? Have you, Lando? Have you murdered women and children?” Christy couldn’t stop her body from trembling, she felt the sting of tears. He was speaking of them in past tense. My God, a baby, a three-week-old baby? A sudden feeling of gripping terror possessed her and she resisted the urge to flee from him.

  Lando crouched, before her taking her hands in his; she recoiled from him, yanking her hands away to pull them to her chest. Christy loved the maternity ward, she would spend hours holding babies. Each tiny face flashed before her eyes, each tiny gaze grew lifeless. She wanted to vomit.

  “I’ve never in my life killed anyone who I felt was completely defenseless,” he informed her.

  “But you would have killed me.”

  Sighing, Lando sat back on the log. She avoided his gaze, as though to cast her sight on him would pollute her. He averted his own gaze while checking the fish. He removed it and set it aside to cool.

  “You were in pain. I hated seeing you suffer. When you followed me, I felt so much relief knowing I wouldn’t have to hurt you. You told me your father was a doctor. Did he never once see someone in such agonizing pain he wanted to end their suffering?”

  “He did. He helped them, he gave them medicine.” Christy raged at him, feeling furious anger. “Don’t you ever compare yourself to such a wonderful, caring man. Every day of his life he tried his hardest to ease people’s suffering. He took great pains to save them. He told me on numerous occasions life is a gift.”

  “What medicine could I give you except a few pain pills? We flew way off course. The elements would’ve caused you a slow, lingering death. What would you have done if you had been confronted by the Kodiak all alone? Can you imagine the suffering he would’ve caused you while he ripped into your body, feeding on you while you still lived? What kind of gift would that have been watching your bowels be chewed on? I wanted to offer you some mercy.”

>   Christy refused the fish he handed her. Her hand went to her mouth at the image he created. She rocked angrily back and forth, not looking at him. When he stretched out a hand to her, she jerked from his touch, repulsed. She was uncertain she wanted him near her anymore. Lando put his food down. He packed up some of the articles he had, leaving her clothes, the camera case, and a flashlight behind. He rose to his feet, in a stiff movement as though pained. For a brief moment, she saw his hand hover in the air as though to touch her hair, then thought better.

  “I suggest you eat. Keep following the river downstream and hopefully you’ll run into someone eventually,” Lando said, then left.

  Christy watched as Lando moved from her sight. He had left her all alone. Yet, a voice reasoned, what did she expect? It seemed to her she was the only person on earth he had ever been kind to and she threw it in his face. But he is a killer, her mind screamed. But he didn’t kill you, another voice challenged. She hadn’t given him the benefit of the doubt. She should have listened. Maybe he was in this predicament because he wouldn’t kill.

  “Lando?” Christy called. “Wait, please come back.”

  Christy looked at the brush where he had walked off, her gaze searching. She began stuffing the items he left her into her backpack. She needed to catch up to him. Running, Christy crashed through the, bushes holding the fish in her hands.

  “Lando! Wait, please.”

  She could see him up ahead, slowing down. He still had yet to face her.

  “Please, don’t leave me all alone. I’m sorry I didn’t listen. I need to stop thinking the worst in men. I shouldn’t think the worst in you. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

  * * * *

  Hearing her frightened remorseful cry, Lando paused and took a deep breath. He should tell her to stay away. He was getting too close to her. Telling her things he’d never told another soul.

  Christy knew he was a killer. He never denied it. He should have known hearing of an actual killing would frighten her further. Lando hadn’t explained it. He felt so uncertain until once again a thought popped into his warring mind, making the decision for him.

  She needs to know exactly what she is dealing with, the voice was again advising. If she rejects you, are you still willing to care for her? Did you save her expecting a favor? Can there not be one time in your life you can give unconditionally; are you even capable of such a selfless act?

  Lando had watched sadly as her eyes filled with horrified disgust. For a moment, Lando thought she was about to become physically ill. She thought he murdered a baby. Each harsh word she spoke slammed him worse than any knife ever had, and then she shut him out, ignored him as though he didn’t exist. She really only wanted him for the protection he offered. His company. His head dropped to his chest.

  She was close enough he could hear her labored breathing as she raced to catch up. Of course she only wanted his protection, his company. Lando told her once they returned he would be gone from her life. The voice casually mentioned; what did you expect, her undying love? A commitment? Lando doesn’t make commitments; he only lives for the moment.

  “Lando?”

  Lando stood head bowed in thought, wondering if he should accept her back. They needed each other. Out here was no place to have to be alone. But she would ask more questions, she would want to hear more of his life. What if she glared at him again with revulsion; could he handle the pain of rejection over and over? They would eventually have to part. His rational thought made no sense. He made a hard decision, having no other choice, his face set in steely, determined resolve, and he turned to confront her.

  The entire scene played out before him in his mind in slow motion. Moving swiftly, he dropped the duffel bag to the ground as he meticulously pulled his gun from behind his belt in one fluid motion. Christy stopped dead in her tracks; her face reflected stunned surprise. The fish she was carrying dropped from her grasp, falling to the forest floor with a tiny bounce, ruffling a few crackling leaves.

  “Lando?” Christy whimpered, her plea was laced with terror.

  Lando knew his look had turned murderous.

  “Get down,” Lando bellowed.

  Christy turned abruptly and dropped to the ground, screaming in terror. Her arms flew up to protect her face. The mountain lion screamed and leaped into the air, intent on capturing his helpless prey. The gun blasted and Christy was knocked backwards as the huge cat landed soundly on her chest. She screamed repeatedly, batting her small arms, trying to dislodge it. Lando gave a violent yank, locking his hands in the skin on the cat’s neck and back, and pulled the furry predator’s limp body from her. Lando grabbed Christy’s arms, hauling her to her feet, crushing her in his embrace. Lifting her off the ground as he straightened with her in his grasp.

  “It’s all right, sweetheart, it’s dead,” Lando soothed.

  “I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me. You’re so frightening at times, I get so scared,” Christy admitted while clutching him closer. Lando was amazed. She was almost killed by a cougar and her first fears were of him leaving.

  “I know I’m frightening to you at times. You might always find me frightening. But I won’t ever hurt you. I swear it.”

  “Thank you for saving me…again.” Christy looked down at the dead cat.

  Lando chuckled, his heart that nearly pounded from his chest began to steady, and he locked her tightly to him, listening as her ragged, labored breathing began to steady. You are mine. The voice in his head sounded a bit too triumphant. He realized she was still not ready or willing to hear that. Also feeling a tad concerned, Lando hoped he wasn’t becoming schizophrenic.

  Chapter 8

  With Christy’s help, Lando was able to construct a shelter in front of a large rock, using the parachute as a tent. Soon enough a fire blazed within the tented structure, offering them warmth and a small measure of security against the frightening darkness that would envelope them as dusk descended. Lando boiled water, checking to make sure eight minutes had elapsed, and added to it a few of the mints Christy carried, melting them for flavor.

  Feeling pessimistic, Christy watched as Lando took a stick and turned a dead, headless snake roasting in ashes placed off to the side. He found it sunning itself on a rock, warming in the afternoon sun. Lando had pounced on it. He informed her once the skin split he would boil the meat. She grimaced at the thought; still, her tummy rumbled in hunger.

  Maybe it won’t be so bad.

  Christy sipped from a crude piece of driftwood Lando handed her. It contained the hot minted water. She watched as Lando refilled the metal bowl with water from a condom he dipped into the stream.

  “Lando?” Christy asked with caution, remembering how their last exchange ended when she questioned him, but she was just too curious; she needed to know.

  “I know you’re afraid to ask, Christy. I know you’re afraid not to ask. You’ll just have to accept me for who I am and what I was. You know I’ll never hurt you. I swear that on my life.”

  Christy thought about that for a moment. “Have you ever been camping?” she inquired, taking a different route. She wanted to understand him, not fear him

  Lando gazed at her with a raised eyebrow, obviously wondering at her change of tactics. “Not intentionally,” he replied.

  “Something you had to do?”

  “Definitely,” Lando responded, and then chuckled; Christy could tell he was recalling a memory.

  “Is that how you know about the Big Dipper, and direction, and…eating snakes?”

  “Yeah. The man I was after led me into a deep forested area, hoping I wouldn’t survive because of my inexperience; he was pretty surprised at my tenacity. I get that a lot.”

  “Why did he teach you?” She knew Lando had killed him. Why would anyone teach someone of survival if they were about to die? Especially by their hand? It didn’t make any sense.

  Taking a breath, Lando’s gaze at her intensified, his words were slow and thought out. “If you were goin
g to die, if there were no other options available to you, would you rather die a painful, agonizing death, or would you want a merciful end?”

  Christy gulped with the images her mind offered. She knew it had been Lando who gave the man a choice. Sitting and discussing a hit with an assassin seemed surreal. She once more fought to control the sudden terror in her breast. She knew Lando was admitting he could cause someone great pain if he chose.

  “Would it help if I told you what he’d done?”

  “Was he a bad man?” Christy asked feeling younger than her years, battling an internal struggle. Her head bowed almost to her chest.

  “He was disgusting filth. Some men don’t feel like I do, that women and children are too helpless to be harmed. They enjoy their helplessness. They revel in it because they think it makes them strong when they’re really pathetic. Pedophiles are pieces of shit and need to be destroyed. I wanted to pound his brains into mush. When he offered to teach me a few things on survival, I offered him an act of mercy he’d never shown another.”

  “You’ve never hurt a woman or children?” Christy asked, feeling relief.

  “Never,” Lando said, his gaze narrowed with intensity. She believed him, though why that would offer her some comfort, she couldn’t really fathom.

  Christy watched as Lando cut the meat from the snake, adding it to the boiling water. His hands rubbed against his pants to clean them. When finished, he settled back to watch her as he always did. This time she cocked her head sideways at him filled with curiosity.

  “Why are you always watching me?” Christy asked, although she decided she no longer minded. She was used to him. His deep, dark eyes were comforting. They no longer appeared soulless to her. She knew he would always wait for an invitation, not demand one. She liked having that one power over him.

  “I like the way you move; I like the way you look. I’m used to studying people. It’s a habit. I need to know what people are thinking; I need to be able to anticipate their next move,” Lando replied.