Chapter five

ARIA'S POV

I barely slept after the mess with the voice in my comm. By morning my head still felt heavy but I forced myself through the motions. Stretch, shower, and pretend everything is normal. Pretend my handler did not call my name in a voice that was not his. Pretend someone else is not out there killing people on the same target list as mine. Pretend I am not shaking a little under my skin.

The Wraiths love when we pretend.

Jason called me in before noon. He sat behind his metal desk with his usual blank expression, although today his eyes moved faster than usual, as if he was trying to read my mind.

“Report,” he said.

“I have interference,” I replied. “Someone else is trying to get to the same target. They nearly hit him with an explosive last night.”

He did not frown or make any comments for about a minute.

“That is none of your concern,” he said.

“None of my concern? Someone else is targeting him. Someone skilled. Someone who is not us. That should matter.”

Jason stood so fast his chair scraped across the floor. His hand hit the desk with a force meant to warn me. “Do not question the mission, Spectre.”

My throat went dry. He only used my code name when he wanted to remind me of my place.

I forced myself to stay calm. “I am not questioning. I am telling you there is a third player. If I am not informed, I cannot complete the seventy two hour deadline.”

Jason leaned forward with his tone lowered. “Focus on your job. We gave you your target. We gave you your timeline. That is all you need. Stray from your objective again and I will personally deliver the consequence.”

Under the table, my hands folded. I nodded slowly since arguing would only place a mark on my profile. I turned to leave.

“Spectre.”

I stopped.

“Do not forget,” he said. “Seventy two hours. Fail, and you know what happens.”

His voice felt heavier than usual, as if the threat was not about Xander at all.

I walked out, trying to take deep to calm myself. Every instinct inside me screamed that Jason was hiding information. That the entire mission was a setup with pieces missing. That the person I should fear most was not the unknown stalker or the sniper but the people who raised me.

When I reached the exit corridor, my comm buzzed with new instructions.

There's a Gala he's attending tonight. Kill him there. Your full cover is required.

Of course. A crowded public event with security everywhere. The perfect place to hide a murder. The perfect place to trap an assassin.

The perfect place to kill me too.

---

My contact dropped the dress off two hours before the gala. The moment I touched it I knew why they picked it. It was light, soft, and weightless. Ideal for both deception and quick movement.

The pale silver chiffon slipped over my skin like water. It was innocent on the outside but I could tear it apart in less than two seconds if I needed to fight. The hidden combat shorts underneath gave me full mobility. The slit went up to my thigh but looked classy enough to blend in. I tied my hair into a simple ponytail. A few strands dropped onto my face, giving me a younger look. Almost naive.

I checked the mirror.

No one would link this girl to the delivery girl on a motorcycle.

Even less to the Wraiths’ youngest operative.

Perfect.

---

The event venue was a hotel with tall glass doors and a glowing chandelier above the entrance. People walked in wearing gowns and suits. Expensive laughter filled the air. Cameras pointed at the red carpet. Security stood at every corner.

I stepped inside with a tray of champagne flutes so I could blend in as staff. The dress helped. Every second person turned to look at me. Some smiled. Some frowned. While some stared too long.

I ignored all of them. My eyes swept over the crowd until I spotted him.

Xander.

Black suit, clean cut and a calm expression. He talked to a group of board members but his gaze drifted across the room like he sensed a storm nearby.

And then his eyes landed on me.

He froze for a second as if he needed to be sure I was real.

I stepped forward, holding the tray. He dismissed the people around him and walked toward me.

“I did not expect to see you here,” he said.

“I am working,” I answered, lifting the tray between us.

He looked me over. Not in a rude way. More like he was trying to solve an equation.

“You look different,” he said.

“Good different or bad different”

“I cannot tell yet.”

I almost laughed but instead I forced a plain smile. “Want a drink”

He took a glass, then leaned in slightly. “You vanished fast after the explosion last night.”

My fingers almost slipped on the tray. “I had to go home.”

“Right,” he said slowly. “Home.”

He did not believe me. I could tell by the way his eyes stayed locked on mine.

“Do you always stare like this,” I asked.

“Only when I am trying to understand a person who does not make sense.”

“I am a delivery girl,” I said, lifting my shoulders. “Nothing to understand.”

“You keep saying that,” he replied. “But you move like you carry secrets.”

I swallowed hard. “Enjoy the gala.”

I stepped away. If I stayed near him longer I would slip. I needed distance. I needed focus. I needed to kill him tonight. Or so the Wraiths believed.

But my legs refused to move properly. My head felt warm. My breathing came out shorter than normal.

A worker passed by and brushed my arm. The touch was light but my vision dimmed for a second. A cold rush spread from the back of my skull down to my shoulders.

A blackout. Shit!

Not again. Not here.

I forced myself toward the dance floor to blend in. Music filled the room and people spun in circles. I pretended to adjust my tray.

Then I felt a hand touch my arm.

Xander again!

“Dance with me,” he said.

“I am working.”

“Just one.”

I hesitated for too long and his suspicion grew. I could see it in the way he studied me.

Fine.

One dance.

I placed the tray on a nearby table and let him guide me to the center of the floor. His hand settled lightly at my waist. Our steps fell into rhythm with the music.

“You do not seem like someone who attends events for fun,” he said.

“You do not seem like someone who trusts people easily,” I replied.

His mouth lifted a little. “I do not.”

I breathed slowly and focused on the room around us. Security near the doors. Snipers on the roof. Staff with comms in their ears and too many eyes.

My blackout started to creep again. A faint buzz behind my left ear. My fingers twitched. Then my sight dimmed for another second. A cold wave washed through me.

Xander noticed.

“Are you alright,” he asked.

I shook my head and stepped back. “I need air.”

I moved fast, weaving through the crowd. My hands shook slightly and pushed through a side door into a private service hallway and leaned forward, trying to catch my breath.

The blackout passed but left a cold trail behind.

My instincts screamed at me to run. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Footsteps echoed from behind me.

I spun around. With my blade in hand.

Before I could strike, the fire alarm blasted above me. Red lights flashed across the walls. The door behind me slammed shut, sealing me inside the narrow corridor.

A lockdown.

My comm crackled.

“Final phase initiated,” a voice said.

But it wasn't Jason or anyone from the Wraiths.

A faint click sounded above my head and I looked up.

The metal vent had shifted open and a sniper laser marked the center of my forehead.

The voice from the vent whispered calmly.

“Peekabo Spectre.”