Rachel’s shook all over.

In her mind, she could see the blood spurting out of the dead man’s throat. His blind, staring eyes, mocking her.

She shuddered, trying hard not to relive the scene, but failing miserably.

Her stomach heaved; if she didn’t redirect her thoughts, she would throw up.

When Adam materialized in front of her, she screamed.

Lacking the energy to run away, she watched him warily as he cleaned the blood off his blade with the hem of his shirt, then sheathed it.

He looked so calm, unperturbed. Her only indication he was not as he appeared, was when he took out his cellphone. He paced as he waited for his call to be answered.

“Darius. Black speaking,” he said, his voice clipped. “Listen, I need a clean-up crew at the studio. And, a taxi.” Rachel tipped her head to the side. Adam used the word taxi as if it were a code for something else. “They blew out my car’s tires.” He stopped to listen for a moment. “Yes, they found me,” he confirmed. “And a team needs to be dispatched to Zach’s apartment; he might also be in danger. I’d go to him myself, but I—” Adam paused, then answered, “No. I left four of them inside and three on a roof. The last one turned tail and ran.”

There was a longer silence this time. Rachel listened to the buzz of a second voice but couldn’t quite catch what was said.

Then Adam spoke again. “I wasn’t alone.” He looked annoyed at something the other speaker said. “Yes, I know what you said!”

Silence and rumbles of the other voice followed, and Adam frowned. “Understood,” he snapped and ended the call.

Adam walked toward her and Rachel instinctively cringed.

“How do you feel?” Adam asked her, after clearly searching for something to say.

She looked up at him, licking her dry lips and trying to hide the fact she might throw up on his shoes. “What... what do you think?” she managed to say.

“This is not how I planned for our evening to end.”

“...no shit.”

They stared at each other.

“Who are you?” Rachel dared ask after a long silence. “Those men... they called you Hashashin… What does it mean?”

Adam crouched in front of her, his expression serious, and she wondered how she had never seen the cold fire which burned inside them. “I am not authorized to tell you that, Rachel.”

“Authorization? From whom? None of this makes sense, Adam. We’re not in a movie.”

He reached for her and slid his fingers along the side of her neck and down her shoulder. She froze, a shiver of dread zipping down her spine. If he truly wanted to kill her, nothing could stop him.

She felt a prick on her shoulder—right where a nurse would inject a vaccine—and Rachel realized too late it wasn’t violence she should have expected. She gaped at him. “What did you—” Her vision wavered, and the world spun as if she rode a Tilt-a-Whirl. Adam caught her as she fell.

“I got you.”—Not reassuring—“It’s only a sedative, but it’s necessary for now.”

She made a grab for his arms. Her numbed fingers slipped along the leather of his bracer. “Adam?” she slurred.

He cradled her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

Darkness closed in around her, and she blacked out.

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