A Matter Of Justice (Grey Justice #4)(57)
“I know he cares.”
“Cares? Seriously? Irelyn, he’s crazy about you.”
She never had the chance to be a teenager giggling with a girlfriend over boys or crushes. And while she felt a little foolish now, she couldn’t resist asking, “Why do you think so?”
“His eyes follow you. They light up when you talk. I can’t believe you don’t see that.”
Maybe that was because she was too busy doing the same thing. When she was around Grey, everything and everyone often disappeared for her.
“And after you left, he wasn’t the same. He became grim, almost reclusive. You’re so good at reading people, I can’t believe that you don’t see it. He’s in love with you, Irelyn.”
Yes, she was excellent at reading people and usually good at reading Grey. If what Kennedy said was true, why hadn’t he ever told her? Why were things the way they were between them?
“He’s never said the words.”
“Saying the words can be hard for some people. Have you said them to him?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Gut herself open and spill her feelings? She didn’t doubt her courage and strength in other things, but when it came to her heart, she was a weakling.
“I guess I’m one of those people it’s hard for. Besides, it’s a little more complicated than just saying the words.”
“No, it’s really not, but it is scary.”
Scary was a mild word for the panic ratcheting up inside her at the very thought.
“Until this is over, and the threat against Grey is gone, I can’t think about that or the future.”
“And when it’s over?” When Irelyn didn’t immediately answer, Kennedy added, “You gave me some great advice once. It helped save my life. So I’m going to give you some now. Don’t be afraid to open yourself up and let Grey see your love for him. You deserve to be happy, Irelyn. And so does Grey.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hill House
England
Dressed in black, Sebastian stood before the largest audience he’d ever faced. It had taken more than a little encouragement to get them all here. They were understandably wary. Assassins had a healthy sense of self-preservation, along with a high level of distrust. Being invited to an open-air event on such short notice would make the normal person somewhat curious. For an assassin, it made them deadlier.
He had implemented precautions. No one could get through the gates unless they relinquished their weapons. Some had refused, and he had let them know in no uncertain terms that they either followed the rules or they would not be allowed access to the party. Only two people had walked away. The rest, some throwing out a vicious curse or two, had surrendered their weapons.
Even dressed in elegant evening attire and without weapons, they were still lethal. An accomplished assassin didn’t need a weapon to kill. A weapon was expedient. Skill and intent mattered much more than the instrument. Properly motivated, a man or woman could kill with bare hands or any innocuous object. However, taking their weapons should at least ensure there wouldn’t be a bloodbath. There would be bloodletting tonight, but he was the only one who would have that privilege.
“Welcome, everyone, to my little soirée. I apologize for the short notice. However, I fully intend for you to be both entertained and enthralled tonight.”
His eyes roamed around the small stadium. Reed had built this area for training and demonstrations. This was the first time it had been used as an entertainment venue. But even that would be educational. The assassin community had doubts about him as a leader. They needed visual proof of his strength and prowess.
With its leader having died without a successor, Hill House needed a strong, powerful leader to maintain its status in the community. Sebastian, along with several others, had campaigned to become the new head. Five assassins had placed their bids and proposals. At the time of Reed’s death, Hill House had had twenty full-time assassins. After he died, several had gone off on their own, a couple had died, and one had been arrested and was now sitting on death row. Hill House had needed a strong leader to not only gather the remaining chicks and bring them back home, but to attract new blood.
Killing a competitor had been strictly forbidden to win the job, but everything else was fair game, including stealing or sabotaging contracts, as well as old-fashioned bribery. Sebastian had employed all of those tactics, plus a few only he knew about. And though it had been a close race between him and another assassin, Sebastian prevailed.
That should have been the end of it. Hill House should have been thriving once more. But still there was resistance, doubt. Tonight’s event should dissolve all uncertainty. Sebastian Dark was the new leader. After his performance tonight, he anticipated a deluge of requests to become Hill House assassins.
So far, everyone had behaved civilly to one another. They had eaten thousands of dollars’ worth of caviar and foie gras while guzzling Dom Perignon like it was water. And now it was time for the main event. Time to show the prowess and stamina of Hill House’s new boss.
The attendees had been ushered to the outside arena with almost no fuss. They knew tonight was about more than a social occasion. They were about to witness something phenomenal, something that few living people had ever seen. Sebastian Dark was about to reveal himself.