This time, once she was in the air and the seatbelt light flicked off, she didn’t remain in her seat, but rather went to have a proper look around.
This was her first time, voluntarily, on a plane—especially one that looked like this. Like Uilleam’s, there was a private bedroom, and this one felt far more intimate with dim lights lit up beneath the frame of the bed.
Luna could almost imagine Kit inviting her back here with that smile of his, tempting her with promises she knew he could keep.
Deciding it was best to close the door back and head to the front before her thoughts could take her away, she found Kit as he were, studying the file on his iPad. With his gaze firmly fixed on the screen, she hadn’t thought he noticed her until she was about to walk back to her seat before he spoke.
“Please. Sit with me.”
Taking the one next to him, she peeked over at his screen to see what he was reading. “Is that the file?”
Once she was officially a part of the Den and given an assignment, Kit had explained, a file would be sent along—one that was complete with everything she could have possibly needed to know about the person she was sent after. Names of close contacts, dates, travel itineraries, and information on any properties they may have owned—not to mention everything that was public, and private, about their business.
“Always find your own information,” Kit had told her during one of their earlier training sessions, “clients often hide vital details that could mean the difference between completing a mission and fucking it up.”
She had often wondered what his file would look like should he ever become a job of someone’s. Sometimes, the information could span back decades. The thought of that reminded her that despite them being intimate, she actually knew very little about him.
“How long have you done this?”
Kit’s gaze flickered from the screen to her. “What, exactly?”
She thought of saying kill people, but that felt too elementary compared to who he seemed to be. Sure, that was the extent of what she had seen him do, but she could tell there was far more to him than that.
“You said you were an assassin, right?”
“Former. And if you’re asking how long I did that, it was for little more than a decade.”
Even as that wowed her, she wasn’t very surprised. He had a skill with weapons that was still baffling to behold.
After she had gotten the hang of knives with T?cut, she had thought to show him how much she had improved—at the time, she hadn’t wanted to think that she was trying to impress him.
But what she had done was nothing compared to what he could do. He’d asked if she trusted him—she said yes—then asked her to stand against the wall where the target was.
It didn’t take her long to realize what he wanted, not when he picked up one of the blades, her gasp making him smile as he touched the sharpened metal to his forehead, an indicator for where she was meant to look.
In rapid succession, he launched three of them across the room, and she was too frozen in fear to move even a millimeter as they sunk into the paper around her—very close, but not a single one hitting her.
Yeah, Kit was very good.
“Since you were a teenager?” Luna asked.
His frown, that turned down the corners of his lips and drew his brows together, made an appearance as he regarded her. “Yes. A bit younger than you in fact.”
She tried to do some quick math in her head. “So that would make you twenty-seven?”
He nodded. “A year older in April.”
So he had just celebrated a birthday, though he hadn’t mentioned a word about it. Come to think of it, he had been gone most of that month—was it because he didn’t want to celebrate?
“You’re younger than I thought,” Luna muttered, realizing belatedly that she had voiced that thought aloud.
His deep chuckle made her blush. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one,” she whispered with a slight shake of her head.
“When is yours?”
It only dawned on her then just how close her birthday was.
June 1st.
Tomorrow.
There hadn’t been many reasons to celebrate her life over the last three years, but now … now she was looking forward to it a little. It wouldn’t be a full year since she was free of Lawrence, but it was close enough.
And that was reason enough to celebrate.
“How close is it?”
“Well … tomorrow, actually.”
One dark brow shot up. “Were you going to tell me? Birthdays are important.”
“Not really—it’s just another day. Besides, there’s nothing I want more than what you’ve already given me.”
She didn’t have to explain what she meant—he knew.
Seeming at a loss for words, Kit cleared his throat. “You said you thought I was younger than I am? What else have you thought of me?”
His head was canted to the side, as though whatever answer she gave him would be fascinating—she was glad for the distraction. “I’d only be assuming …”
“Then tell me of your assumptions.”