The Reluctant Assassins : Clara and Damien (Delta Underground Operatives Book 2) Read online

  THE RELUCTANT ASSASSINS

  DELTA UNDERGROUND OPERATIVES

  SARAH NOFFKE

  The Reluctant Assassins

  A Clara & Damien Story: Book 2

  Delta Underground Operatives

  Copyright © 2023 by Sarah Noffke

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Book Cover: JoY Design Studio

  Format: Crimson Sun Graphics

  Created with Vellum

  For one of my favorite pairs, Jamie and Amy!

  CONTENTS

  The Authors of DUO

  INTRODUCTION

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Continue the Adventure

  Author Notes

  About the Author

  THE AUTHORS OF DUO

  Sarah Noffke

  Jamie Davis

  Kimbra Swain

  N. A. Grotepas

  Kat Healy

  Fatima Fayez

  Scott Walker

  Jenn Mitchell

  S. W. Clarke

  Mel Todd

  Charley Case

  Ben Zackheim

  INTRODUCTION

  The agents of Delta Underground Operatives have one critical mission: Keep magic secret. Humans are not ready to know that the creatures from their dreams are real. They’re even less prepared to fight the monsters from their nightmares.

  When the gods were killed, Alder Shaw—the sole surviving demi-god—established DUO to protect the status quo, solve the mystery of the gods’ fates, and safeguard the Puddle, the last reservoir of divine magic. Aided by twin witches Maven and Moxie, Shaw paired up beings of magic who resonated with each other. In tandem with the Puddle, these individuals now enjoy access to a second set of abilities, making them tough to beat.

  These beings are the agents of DUO.

  Following are the case files of DUO agents:

  ACCESS RESTRICTED

  File Codename: The Reluctant Assassins

  Agents: Clara & Damien

  All information is for Your Eyes Only

  CHAPTER ONE

  Abandoned Warehouse, Tijuana, Mexico

  The cold metal of the revolver bit into Clara Jordan’s uncalloused hands. As she pointed the gun at the man standing in front of her, she didn’t feel powerful. It felt wrong and artificial to use a weapon to get one’s way. And yet, that’s what things had come to in her life.

  Anton laughed, his gold teeth catching the light streaming through the windows at Clara’s back. “We both know you’re not going to shoot me.”

  Clara knew that, but she had to stall. She didn’t even know how to fire a gun, but she hoped the arms dealer didn’t know that. Thinking back to the last action movie she’d seen, Clara pulled back the hammer, making a click.

  All the men standing at Anton’s back tensed, pulling weapons and pointing them at Clara. Their boss threw his hands into the air in a surrendering position. Again, he chuckled like this was amusing to him. He waved backward at his men.

  “At ease, boys,” he said over his shoulder. “She’s not going to shoot. We’re just having a friendly conversation.”

  “We don’t have anything to talk about,” Clara said through clenched teeth.

  “Sure we do, baby girl,” he sang, winking at her. “You got the weapons I want. Tell me where they are and my friends and I will be on our way. Don’t tell us, and we’ll be on our way, but only after killing you.”

  It was Clara’s turn to laugh now, although this guy’s pet name was making her skin crawl. “If you kill me, then you’ll definitely not get the weapons, which aren’t yours in the first place.”

  He nodded, lowering his hands. “That’s the thing: if I can’t have them, then no one gets them. Especially not Ricco. That’s all he needs to run us out of town for good.”

  “Then pack your bags,” Clara said, motioning with the loaded revolver.

  The amused expression dropped from Anton’s pock-marked face. “Look, baby girl, I’ve been playing nice. You gave me a good chase, I’ll admit. But now you’re cornered with no options. Tell me where the weapons are.”

  Clara sucked in a breath, willing her arms not to shake. She flexed her finger on the trigger.

  Anton’s eyes narrowed, spying the small movement. His right hand twitched by his hip.

  The next three things happened in quick succession.

  The criminal went for his gun. Clara dove to the floor, rolling behind a huge wooden crate. Someone crashed through the windows at the top of the warehouse.

  Glass rained down from the ceiling. The men scattered, retreating from the sudden commotion. Anton and most of his men took cover at the back of the warehouse as Damien Monty landed on the concrete floor in a crouched position.

  Clara sighed, their eyes connecting. “You’re late.”

  He nodded, his gaze smoldering with adrenaline. “I had to wash my hair.”

  Damien threw down his hood and ran his hand casually through his spiky black hair. Then he took off in a blur, avoiding the spray of bullets as the weapons dealers opened fire.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Interstate 5, Anaheim, California, United States

  Three Days Previously

  The back of the eighteen-wheeler looked like a very bizarre makeshift hospital. Taz Kiera consoled himself with the fact that they wouldn’t be on the road for long. Soon they’d be in Mexico and he’d have the coma patients in his house. That’s when he could really attempt to harness their powers, abilities and memories.

  After killing several coma patients, Taz realized that he needed to be at ease to properly siphon off their energy. That simply couldn’t happen in a hospital. So Taz decided that he’d take the coma patients to a place where he could concentrate—to his home, which would soon be theirs. Once there, once he really was able to successfully leech the coma patients, then they’d be what he really needed—his family.

  “Taz, Taz, Taz,” Leo Pinch said, panting as he ran around to the back of the truck. The door was open, the ramp down as they took a break on the side of the highway. It was overdue; they’d had to find an abandoned access road to give them some privacy.

  “What?” Taz replied tersely, increasingly annoyed by the dumb dog who constantly said his name before asking questions.

  “The driver wants to know when are we leaving again,” Leo said, squinting in the bright California sunlight.

  Taz redirected his attention to the inside of the truck where the nurse he’d hired was checking over the patients stretched out in their beds. To the untrained eye, they seemed lifeless. “How much longer do you need?”

  She glanced up, a coldness in her eyes. “There’s eight of them and only one of me. Delivering their medications and checking vitals takes time.”

  “And you can’t do it while the truck is moving?” Taz questioned.

  “Not if you want them to survive the journey,” she answered, matching his flat tone.

  Taz could feel the rage building up in him instantly. He didn’t like people giving him bad news. Telling him he couldn’t be on schedule if he wanted something done right. He hired people to get the job done and here this woman was, running her mouth about how they couldn’t travel if he wanted his family to survive.

  Right then, he wanted to reach out with his mind control and suck the power straight from the core of the nurse. But he needed her—for now.

  So instead, the rage took hold, the way it did often. It made him impulsive. He was desperate to put out the quick-bur
ning fire ignited inside of him before it ruined everything.

  Reaching out a hand, he clapped it onto the arm of the man lying in the bed closest to him. Like an addict receiving the drug he needed, Taz felt the power of the man pooling into him. It was strength, knowledge, skills and abilities.

  Taz knew he should release the man before it was too late. Then he could walk away simply being fueled by this battery. But the feeling was too much and Taz’s rage too strong to resist.

  “You’re killing him!” the nurse yelled, rushing over.

  Taz ripped open his eyes, not even realizing that he’d closed them, going into his meditative state of siphoning.

  He yanked his hand off the man’s arm just as the life-support system next to his bed guttered into one prolonged tone. The coma patient was dead. Gone. He’d lost another one, but that was part of life. There were always losses…

  Taz knew from experience that when he’d gone too far, stealing too much from one of the patients, there was no bringing them back. And just like the dead body, everything about them was gone. The power, the memories, the abilities he’d leeched were dead with the man. That’s why Taz had to find a way to only take a little, keeping his family alive. Then he’d be incredibly powerful with a huge battery of energy and more. He only had to get the coma patients to his home in Mexico. Then he could start the process of learning how to safely siphon them.

  Staring coldly down at the dead man, Taz shook his head before looking up at the nurse. Her face registered only discomfort, not horror. She had signed on for this job, after all, so he knew what kind of person she was.

  “Well, it looks like your job just got easier,” he said, turning and striding down the ramp and out of the truck.

  Taz pointed over his shoulder when he met Leo on the ground. “Throw that body out in the desert somewhere. Then tell the driver we’re ready to go. I can’t wait around here any longer.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Training Room,

  Delta Underground Operatives Headquarters,

  Mountains East of Salt Lake City, Utah, United States

  “Just trust me and fall,” Damien urged, standing behind Clara in the training room.

  She stood on a raised platform, looking over her shoulder at him. “This is silly. And you’re not supposed to tell people to trust you.”

  He nodded, holding out his arms. “Yes, I know. I’m trying to prove that you can trust me to catch you, but you have to fall for me to show you that.”

  “Well, it’s difficult to simply fall when I’m not being pushed.”

  Damien let out a loud sigh, catching sight of Clara’s image in the full-length mirrors that ran along the walls in the training room. His vampirism made it so his own reflection wasn’t as prevalent as hers. There were a few reasons for this.

  One of the lesser-known reasons was that old mirrors were made with a silver backing. Although it didn’t sear Damien’s skin to touch metal, he was repelled by pure forms of it.

  The other reason why he didn’t lay eyes on his reflection was because a mirror was believed to reflect part of someone’s soul. Since Damien was considered soulless, there was less for the mirror to project.

  Only a shadow of himself stared back at him from the surface of the mirror—blinking back at him as he stood behind Clara. Damien hadn’t missed seeing the details of his face or studying how he didn’t age in the mirror. On the short list of things he missed was playing music with his band, having sunshine on his face and having the potential for a real relationship. All of those things had disappeared from his life the moment he became a vampire.

  “The whole idea of this exercise is to build trust,” Damien explained. “And the way to do that is to fall over and have me catch you. No ‘being pushed’ about it. You have to let go and let me save you.”

  She glared at him over her shoulder. “I’m not really the damsel-in-distress type looking for a prince to save me.”

  “How about a vampire?” he joked, grinning up at her.

  “I always pictured damsels were being rescued from your types, by egotistical princes with something to prove,” Clara remarked, not having budged.

  Damien snapped at her, “Just fall already and stop stalling.”

  “Can’t we start with a different trust-building exercise?” Clara asked, real tension marking her face.

  There it is, Damien realized. Ever since Clara killed Katy at the hospital, there have been demons in her eyes. She’s conflicted about the guilt.

  Damien and Peregrin Alder Shaw knew that what Clara did was right. She had defended herself and stopped a bad person from doing bad things.

  However, Clara had never killed anyone before, and it was harder for her to process because of her empathic nature. Ironically Clara had signed on to be an assassin, knowing that she’d have to kill people. She did it because there were bad guys who could only be stopped one way.

  Clara’s altruistic nature told her she was taking a job that would make the world better. Her conscience was punishing her for it now.

  “What do you want to do, sit around a campfire and sing ‘Kumbaya?’” Damien joked, hoping to put her at ease with laughter.

  She shrugged. “We could share secrets or talk about our feelings.”

  He pointed at himself. “Vampire, remember? I don’t have feelings. And you, Telepath, are always in my head so I don’t really think we have many secrets from each other.”

  “Well, we only know what’s sitting on the top of each other’s head.”

  “Exactly,” he chimed. “Which is why, borrowing your telepathy, I know that you’re torturing yourself over killing Katy.”

  Clara sighed heavily. “I’m not a soulless being like some people. It was my first kill.”

  “Firstly, I’ve felt guilt every time I’ve killed, but I did it to survive, just like you,” Damien explained. “Secondly, also like you, I’ve only killed those who deserved it. And lastly, if we master this trust-building, then we will be a better team and you won’t be alone next time. The blood will be on my hands too—but you have to realize there will inevitably be more bloodshed. That’s the only way to stop Taz Kiera and his minions.”

  Her hands gripped her thick blonde braid, tugging at it over her shoulder. That was her nervous tic, something she always did when she was anxious or avoiding something. “I know you’re right. We have to become a better team. I just think we could start with something else.”

  “All you have to do is fall,” Damien said, enunciating each word deliberately.

  “Why don’t we start with me catching you?” she suggested.

  Damien laughed. “Although you have my strength through our bond, I think that I might crush you. I can catch all ten pounds of you. Then we can move on down the list, but this was first, and Alder probably made it that way for a reason.”

  She threaded her arms in front of her chest. “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

  He stared up at her, seeing her both as strong and vulnerable. “Clara, you obviously have trust issues. I get it. I do, too. But you’re afraid of falling both in the literal and figurative senses because, well, somewhere along the way, someone failed to catch you. In battle, we have to rely on each other, or we’ll fight alone again. And I think if that happens then it could result in one or both of us paying the ultimate price.”