This is really good,” Donovan Caine said, attacking his third strawberry pancake. “You sound surprised,” I said. He shrugged. “I just didn’t think an assassin would be able to cook like this.” “Well, I do get lots of practice with knives. You could say I’m multitasking.” The detective froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m kidding. I enjoy cooking. It relaxes me.

Y’all might as well come on out,” I said. “I know you’re there. I can smell you.”“Smell me? But I just took a shower this morning!” an indignant voice drifted out of the shadows.There was a loud sound, like someone was getting smacked upside the head. Then another voice let out a low mutter.“Shut up, idiot.

Always take the most unexpected route

Breaking into the building was easy.Too easy for an assassin like me.

I'd seen her kill men with her bare hands... trash-can lids... loose bricks... even a fork once.

Being an assassin means knowing when to kill - and when not to kill.

I know, I know. But I can always kill him later. This way, at least we get to humiliate him first.”Finn eyed me. “Sometimes I think you’re even more devious, twisted, and vicious than I am.”I grinned. “You only wish you could be as ruthless as me.”“Absolutely.