“I think you’ve mentioned that already. Twice. But cheer up, if we don’t have a good game plan, a Wereleopard or Vampire might snatch the honors from me.”
Wick grumbled under his arm before he launched into a detailed plan for a tactical assault. I listened with my mouth open and mentally cursed my lack of a notepad.
It took me a few moments in the silence following Wick’s lengthy explanation to digest what he’d said. “So basically, you’re going to swarm the house from all possible entrances, while you blow up stuff with bombs and grenades?”
“Pretty much. We have better numbers and the timeline doesn’t give us much of an opportunity to plan something subtle or elegant.”
“Where do I fit in?”
“Could you wait in the car?” Wick looked hopeful.
I snorted. “Doubtful.”
Wick straightened up and stared at the ceiling. “Well I would prefer the next best thing.”
“And what’s that?”
“At least wait in the car until the takeover is complete and we have Ethan pinned.”
“And then what? I sweep in and take his life?”
“Well, his head to be more precise.”
My hands twitched and my jaw tightened. I had to take a deep breath before I voiced my objection. “I’m not helpless, Wick.”
“Never said you were.”
“Then why are you treating me like a defenseless puppy?”
“Is it so wrong that I want to keep you safe?”
“Yes.”
Wick grumbled and looked around as if trying to find back-up. “Fine. How do you want to play it?”
I sat back in the lounge chair across from Wick. “I’d like to waltz in after the initial wave, find Ethan and chop his head off.” Not a lie. It’s what I’d like to do, not what I’d actually do, but Wick didn’t need to know that.
He laughed; a great sound that warmed my heart, but not enough to drown out the guilty feeling deep in my chest. What came over me? Why couldn’t I tell Wick what I planned? Independence didn’t go poof after years of becoming an ingrained habit, but I’d opened up. A bit. My strategy for tonight wasn’t that devious—I just didn’t plan to wait. I would enter the house during the initial surge and use the commotion and confusion as camouflage to search out Ethan. I learned long ago not to count on others to do my job for me. My hands would be dirty before the end of the night and that was okay with me.
If someone took Ethan’s head before I had a chance, either intentional or accidental, I’d still belong to Lucien. Still trapped. Still owned. I couldn’t let that happen.
I looked up in time to get a close view of Wick’s lips before they pressed into mine. Well, maybe I’d enjoy this for a little longer. I’d forget the job we had tonight and my intentions to get as far from Lucien and the Werewolves he controlled. The tension in my muscles released, flowing from my limbs. And then I tensed again. I couldn’t let Wick get attached if I planned to leave. Stealing the last of my resolve, I pulled away.
“Let me guess? You need to mentally prepare?” Wick grumbled.
“How’d you know?”
Wick’s lip quirked. “You’re running out of excuses.”
“It’s not an excuse.”
“A badass assassin like you.” He brushed my cheek with his thumb. “Should not need to meditate before a job.”
My mouth opened to say something, anything, to deny his accusation. His thumb pressed against my lips, effectively silencing me.
“I’ll give you tonight, Andy. But after this job…” He leaned down to draw in my scent by the crook of my neck. He let his words hang in the air and smiled at my gaping expression before stepping away and leaving me to my thoughts.
****
When I came downstairs, I found Wick and a number of the pack curled up on the couches and chairs around the television. It took me two seconds of looking at the screen filled with atrophied humans to figure out what they watched.
“This is how you prepare for a raid?” I turned away with a grunt. Obviously, not everyone could be a professional.
“Not joining us?” Jess asked.
“Definitely not.”
“What’s your beef with zombies?” John demanded, coming across a little defensive, like he found it insulting I wasn’t jumping up and down screaming “yay” like a little girl.
“You mean, besides hearing my brain cells die every minute I watch?”
“It’s not that bad.” Wick looked over his shoulder to wink.
“Yes it is. I don’t understand this fetish for everything zombie. The plot line for each show is the same.”