Hunters by Matt Rogers (books for 5 year olds to read themselves .TXT) 📕

He mumbled, ‘Sorry, papi,’ then laughed loudly and jaggedly.

Ha-ha-ha-ha.

Slater said, ‘No problem.’

The man turned to Alexis and stared without a hint of social awareness. He looked between her and Slater, then focused his eyes again on her. ‘Whatever he’s paying you, I’ll double it.’

She didn’t laugh coyly like so many people do when a stranger makes an offensive joke. Instead she stared back at him without a hint of a reaction.

The man turned back to Slater, raised an eyebrow. ‘She’s got some attitude, huh? You bagged a good one.’

Slater said, ‘Get the fuck out of here before I throw you out.’

He said it calmly, without any aggression, so as not to disrupt the subdued fine-dining atmosphere. It didn’t gel with the words that came out of his mouth, but he let his eyes do the talking.

The long-haired guy’s eyes widened. ‘Pipe down, buddy. I was just—’

‘You were just nothing,’ Slater said. ‘Get out. Sober up.’

The guy saw something volatile in Slater’s eyes, like a bomb with a one-second fuse. He didn’t drop the attitude, but he shuffled off aggressively, swaying left and right as he headed for the front of the venue. Slater could hear him muttering obscenities the whole way.

Alexis said, ‘I should have hit him.’

‘Not anymore,’ Slater said. ‘The way you’re training now, you hit someone, they’re in the hospital. Doesn’t matter that you’re a woman. You clock them in the face with perfect technique, the size and strength difference doesn’t matter. They’re going down with broken bones. And the brain is delicate. They go down and crack their head on the side of a table? They’re dead.’

‘Is that why you didn’t hit him?’

‘If I’d hit him he’d be dead before he fell.’

14

The man with the mane of black hair wobbled out of the restaurant.

His eyes were hazy and unfocused, his mind suppressed by the effects of booze. He stumbled, righted himself, and skirted around a group of loudmouthed British tourists out on the town. He nodded drunkenly to one of the stragglers at the back, who returned the gesture. Then the group moved past and he was alone again.

As soon as he was clear of Nobu’s entrance, he corrected his posture and wiped the foggy expression off his face.

Killed the performance.

Left it behind.

It had done its job.

Walking away through Caesars Palace with a newly perfect gait, he fished a burner phone out of his pocket and dialled a number. The fact he had to identify himself at the beginning of each call infuriated him, but the anonymity of the contact scrambler was crucial.

‘This is Citrine,’ he said. ‘It’s them.’

‘You sure?’ Onyx asked.

‘Absolutely.’

‘Then get it done.’

‘Tonight?’

‘As soon as they get back home.’

Citrine grinned and swept long locks back off his forehead. ‘The girls, too?’

‘All of them.’

‘Does it matter what happens before they’re neutralised?’

His handler paused. ‘No.’

Onyx understood that the highest tier of operative was barely separated from the primal savage. The places they needed to go to in their heads to compartmentalise their aggression … sometimes, they needed an outlet. Allowances occasionally had to be made, and there was nothing wrong with that. The women had to die, after all.

What Citrine did to them before that was his business.

There had to be incentives to take the hard jobs.

Onyx said, ‘Just make sure you get it done.’

‘They won’t see it coming,’ Citrine said. ‘They’ve got blind spots. Ordinary life has made them soft.’

He clicked off and melted into the anonymity of the crowd.

15

King and Violetta heard the front door open downstairs.

She peeled her naked body off his, catching her breath. He shot her a wry smile as he tossed her her underwear, and she mouthed, They’re early.

He shrugged, unperturbed. What had already unfolded had satisfied him tenfold, and from her vocal enthusiasm he knew she felt the same.

They were dressed in seconds, then left their bedroom and sauntered downstairs like nothing was awry. Slater and Alexis were side-by-side on stools around the kitchen island, smirking up at them as they descended the staircase.

Violetta said, ‘What?’

A few drinks had stripped away Alexis’ usual reservedness. She said, ‘Taking full advantage of the empty house, huh?’

King said, ‘Absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,’ and walked straight past them to run a glass under the sink tap.

Slater said, ‘No idea at all?’

‘None,’ King said, drinking half the glass to rehydrate. ‘I’m a Mormon, remember?’

‘How could I forget?’

‘How was dinner?’

‘Unbelievable,’ Slater said.

King rounded the kitchen island and looked pointedly at Alexis.

She raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’

‘I need you to back him up.’

‘Why?’

‘Because Slater’s eaten nothing but meat, rice and vegetables for months. They could have seasoned a chicken breast and he would have fainted from the pleasure. Was it actually good?’

Slater rolled his eyes.

Alexis said, ‘It was great. You two should go sometime.’

Violetta said, ‘Why the early return?’

Slater said, ‘We’re not early.’

Alexis’ gaze lingered a little too long on Violetta’s ruffled hair. She masked a smirk before she answered. ‘There’s not much to do afterwards besides drink and gamble. Las Vegas is … how should I put it? Let’s go with “lacking culture.”’

King scoffed. ‘You don’t need to be polite to Vegas. Call it how it is.’

Alexis said, ‘For the most part it’s an empty shell of a city designed purely to rob the consumer. How’s that?’

King said, ‘That’s more like it.’

Slater said, ‘But the food’s good.’

Alexis said, ‘The food is very good.’

Violetta watched the conversation play out in bemused silence. When King turned to her, he noticed a different look on her face. ‘What?’

She said, ‘This is nice, you know.’

Slater raised an eyebrow at her. Encouraging her to go on.

She said, ‘There’s a life for us after all this madness. I’m sure of it. I can see it clearly. Eventually we’ll grow old and you two—’ she looked at King and Slater ‘—won’t be able to keep up with the young bulls. Thankfully, Alexis and I partnered up with smart men. Neither of you are stupid. One day you’ll realise you can’t go into hostile situations with arthritic joints and reflexes