Page 44 of His Last Will

Well, of course, there was meatball guy. He went out in an acid bath… literally. I placed his foot in the bucket, and the man jumped in, carving fork still stuck in his balls and all. I think I can blame him for that one.

The woman last week, if you could call that hag a woman, accidentally bled out on the table after I kind of, sort of cut her carotid artery with a machete. Aiden is partially to blame for this one because he came up behind me and smacked me on the ass mid-swipe of the blade.

I punched him for that.

And the man yesterday had the unfortunate experience of dying by a medieval flail to the head. The spike and eyeball combo was brutal, but Aiden told me, ‘nice aim’ afterward, so he clearly wasn’t bothered by it.

This was more than likely—okay, it was for sure—messing with Ashton’s test results because we were supposed to be tracking how the patients’ muscle sensitivity increased over time as their pain receptors became more affected by the injections. Well, with them now dead, that probably wasn’t the best data point.

“Yeah, the morgue feels good,” I venture, knowing it’s best to let him lead this conversation.

Ashton narrows his eyes. “Feels good. Okay, right. Does that mean we will be seeing more of you here?”

I nod my head. “Yeah, Aiden has been teaching me some things. I think he needs an assistant. Someone to keep him in line.”

Aiden chooses that moment to walk out of the closet and lets out an evil-sounding laugh. “Sure, someone to keep me in line. Ari, if anyone needs to be on a leash, it’s you. Even Bosco is better behaved.”

“Hey! I resent that. At least I don’t spray my horny fluids all over the goddamn bodies.”

Aiden gives me a look because we both know that I’m lying. Carving-fork meatball man was proof of that, but he doesn’t correct me in front of Ashton. Almost like it’s a secret we share between us.

“Horny fluids or not,” Ashton says, “Bosco leaves them alive for me to test. So, how about we try more of that? If the assistant kills the patients, instead of, you know, assisting, they become a liability.

“So either fix your shit, or I am going to be your teacher until you learn to control yourself.”

I flex my fingers and ball them into fists before taking a deep breath. “Fine. I’ll try my best, but I don’t make any promises.”

Aiden gestures for the door, and we leave without saying goodbye.

I hesitate as I turn to leave. “Before I go, has there been any update on Brodie’s death? Do they have any leads?”

Ashton barely throws me a glance over his shoulder. “No.”

Frustration bubbles up inside of me. If The Order can’t come up with any answers soon, I will hunt the goddamn answers down myself. Fuck relying on others to do the work for me.

I give Z one last look, but he isn’t watching me; he is gazing over at Ashton with what I can only interpret as longing.

Poor bastard.

I catch up to Aiden as he walks back into the morgue. Patient 6069 is still tied up to the wall, a projector image displayed of a target covering his body. The bullseye is obviously the man’s limp dick.

“The keys to good aim in archery are the anchor and the release,” Aiden says as he sets down the extra arrows before turning toward me.

I walk over to Aiden before pausing his lesson. “Do you think Ashton meant what he said? Will he not let you train me?”

Aiden rolls his eyes. “Ari, I would literally slit the man’s neck if he tried to do that. Whether he likes it or not, I am going to be his boss one day. If you would like to kill every piece of trash in each of the storage cabinets today, go ahead. We can always find more scum to fill our patient roster. Now”—he nocks the bow—“can we get focused?”

The man on the wall is surely about to die from my poor aim, but that seems to be a him problem. Aiden mentioned something about him blackmailing women for sex, and when that didn’t work, he resorted to drugging them. So, he was for sure dying.

Aiden hands me the bow and arrow and comes up behind me, his body dwarfing mine as he adjusts my grip. He kicks my feet a little further apart and nudges my left foot forward to adjust my stance. Bending, he reaches for the arrow, grabbing it over my grip, and with his other hand anchors the bow over mine.

He bends over so his mouth is next to my ear, and I can hear his soft breaths. “You ready to practice, little venom?” Aiden nips the top of my ear, bringing me back to focus.

I nod as I aim the arrow. Aiden adjusts the aim a little by putting some pressure on my drawn arm with his and lifting it a little so that my arm is parallel to the ground.

He whispers softly, “Release when you’re ready.”

Okay, who knew archery was so erotic?