Lilith lounged like a panther in her hotel room bed, mindlessly flipping through the channels. It was almost noon, and the dragon hunter was bored. Time always moved slowly right before she left to take out her targets. Normally, she was easygoing, but before she went off to kill a beast, she became a completely different kind of person, the person her dad taught her to be: hard, dangerous, focused.

A real hunter couldn’t afford to be distracted when they came across a dragon. A mistake meant sudden, brutal death. She had no idea when she’d get the text that it was time to go, but she hoped it would come soon. It was time to kill the Keeper of the Wind.

Lilith’s phone buzzed.

Her eyes darted down to the message. She had been eagerly awaiting the text, but unfortunately, it wasn’t a kill order.

Instead, it was an update that her order of woman’s shoe socks, size small, had shipped and would arrive in two days. Shoe socks were one of the greatest blessings in Lilith’s entire life. They were like socks, but with the durability and sole of a shoe. She’d found that wearing them allowed her to sneak up on her targets more quietly.

Lilith let out an expressive groan and popped herself off the bed, springing to her feet. She moved with the ease of a talented athlete. When she walked, her thighs turned into hard knots of muscle without her even thinking about it. She was built like a gymnast—strong and lithe, extremely flexible, and fine-featured. Subconsciously, she had a happy little bounce in her step. This was cute, according to the small army of guys who found her sexy.

She walked through the sliding door out onto the small balcony and hoped that nobody would see her standing there in just a bra and panties. It was freezing outside, but the rush of cold air made her feel alive.

The text would be coming any minute, and she wanted to move quickly, but her hunting gear was heavy and tight. Lilith wanted to enjoy the comfort of her undergarments for as long as she could. Nobody was looking at the hotel balcony anyway. And if they were, they’d get a treat. No big deal.

Being a dragon hunter was serious business. It was a job that was passed down through generations of five main families. Lilith’s family, the Aldane clan, had centuries of experience hunting down the exotic, deadly, and supernatural.

Why kill dragons? Almost a thousand years ago a dragon had killed a matriarch in her family. From that time, her family wanted revenge. Throughout her childhood, she was told how evil these creatures were, and she felt she was doing the world a service by eliminating them from existence. She preferred to think of herself as a hunter, but the rest of her community referred to themselves as the Slayers. She felt the name was a bit archaic since they no longer used swords and instead had high-tech weapons.

Just for fun, she went away from the balcony and checked out her rifle. There was a big debate among the Slayer community—ancient or modern technology. Some preferred the ancient ways, with charmed swords and daggers. The weapons were powerful, but it was almost like a form of art. Slayers had thousands of years to perfect their weapons, creating the perfect mixtures of certain metals and certain spells to kill the most ferocious beasts.

There was also a second approach, and Lilith preferred this style: the modern approach. Cars were invented as an alternative to horses. Electronic refrigerators were invented as an alternative to using blocks for ice to keep food cool. So, why not use modern technology to put down centuries’ old prey? Lilith didn’t see why not. They had guns for a reason.

Traditional Slayers had to get close to their targets. With bullets, she could use the same combination of metals and shoot the beasts. The trick was to put the same combination of metals and spells into a bullet—even if it was less concentrated and powerful—and shoot it. It went at such a high velocity that it could put down almost anything—including dragons—without the Slayer having to get anywhere near the target.

The problem was that the Keeper of the Wind was a direct descendant of the Dragon King, who was the original dragon. Nobody had been able to kill the Keeper of the Wind or his three other brothers. Many Slayers had tried to kill them, even before the Aldane family joined the Slayer community. A few Slayers had come close to killing the Dragon King and his sons over thousands of years, but nobody had succeeded.

Not yet anyway, thought Lilith as she smirked with an air of confidence.

She appreciated the art form of the traditionalists, but she appreciated something even more than she appreciated art: her life.

The gun wasn’t the only ace Lilith had up her sleeve. Lilith even had a neck choker that could disguise her from the naked eye, though she was still vulnerable to technology. That choker had saved her skin many times before, even with its limitations.

The traditional Slayers thought this was cheating for some incoherent reason. Lilith had been raised by a family that prided themselves on adapting to their surroundings. The Aldane family was something of a Slayer factory. The children were raised to kill supernatural beings, such as vampires and werewolves, but they mainly chose dragons as their targets.

Lilith was one of those children.

She looked down at her rifle to make sure everything was in order. She’d had the same exact rifle since she had turned eighteen, when her father gave it to her as a gift. Turning eighteen and being accepted in the Slayer community was a great honor. Only those who demonstrated a true skill for assassinating supernatural beings could climb the ranks in the Slayer community.

Upon her eighteenth birthday, Lilith also received a charmed tattoo that showed she was part of the Aldane clan for life. Without thinking about it, the area on her back between her shoulder blades tingled. That’s where the tattoo was located—a beautiful phoenix that symbolized her new life as a Slayer.

She ran her fingers across the rifle, across the chrome and gold surface with the phoenix symbol that matched her tattoo on the body of the gun. It was a nasty weapon, compactable with a beautiful scope on it and capable of putting a bullet through six inches of steel.

“When in the hell is he going to text me?” Lilith muttered, unlocking her phone and checking to see if she had somehow missed the message.

Nope. Nothing.

Her target, Storm, Keeper of the Wind, was going to get away if they weren’t careful. She had a small amount of time to shoot him and get out of Dodge before anyone figured out what had happened. Storm and his brothers were the bane of the assassin world. The bounty on his head would be enough for her to live comfortably for the rest of her life.

Dozens of assassins, both Slayers and amateurs, had come forth to accept the mission. So far, none of them had succeeded. Traditional Slayers completely failed; Storm used his powers of air manipulation to keep them well away from him until his security overwhelmed the assassin. The Slayers who used modern weaponry also failed.

Over thousands of years, people had tried to poison him, shoot him, and stab him, but the dragon refused to die. He was too powerful.

However, that was about to change. Storm wouldn’t escape her wrath.

Well, he wouldn’t escape her wrath if she ever got the text.

Storm was an interesting target for a variety of reasons. He had a reputation of being drop dead gorgeous. Lilith had caught some female Slayers talking about his good looks. It seemed he had everything: power, a body to die for, and wealth.

Lilith was willing to bet that some of the women Slayers wanted to sleep with him just as much as they wanted to kill him. She didn’t blame them. She’d seen a picture of him and was stunned that the rumors were true. He was worth all the hype with his dark hair, olive skin, and copper-colored eyes.

But his god-like features didn’t stop her from wanting to kill him. She needed that bounty. Besides, there was another reason she wanted him dead. It was personal.

To take down Storm, Lilith partnered with a man codenamed Night Star. She had no idea what his real name was, but she didn’t care. She had no clue what his face looked like, what color his eyes were, or even his skin tone. He was a total mystery to her, and also apparently completely incompetent despite being one of the best in the business. He’d totally failed to maintain communication. Why hadn’t he texted her yet?

She didn’t have to wait for him to tell her to get ready. She was a professional. She was going to get clothed and go wait on the freezing cold roof. Maybe Night Star was dead somewhere. She didn’t know or care. She had no allegiance to him. All she cared about was getting the bounty. If he died, all it meant to Lilith was that she didn’t have to split the reward.

She already had her gear out on the bed. She didn’t always walk around as a Slayer. A long time ago, she’d picked out a suit and trained in it. Ever since then, she wore a similar suit to that one. She felt comfortable in it. Strong. And, if she was honest with herself, just a touch sexy. Wearing it shielded her from some dangers, such as fire and claw marks. It wasn’t foolproof, but it did add an extra layer of protection.

The Aldane family code was victory over honor, honor over death. So, in other words, a Aldane Slayer was expected to win even at the cost of his or her honor. Should they fail, they were supposed to get back their honor and refuse to surrender. The part of the code she could never get behind was death part. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of dying, but she really enjoyed being alive.

Her suit was made with a cotton blend, and it was charmed. Without the spell, the outfit would probably be quite comfortable. However, the magic made the suit heavy, although she could still move quite easily in it. It was dark green—the same color as her eyes—and hugged every curve on her body. Extra padding was added to her knee and elbow area, which had come in handy on multiple occasions, such as that one time she had to quickly slide under a firetruck to avoid being crushed by a three-story building that imploded.

Lilith set down her phone and pulled the suit off the bed. She felt tendrils of power coming from it. They weren’t real; nothing from the suit was empowering her. It was all a mental trick. She could do whatever she wanted outside the suit, but once she pulled it on, she was another person, a cold, heartless person that couldn’t be intimidated or defeated.

She slipped one foot into the pants, then the other. It was a ritual. She felt her charmed tattoo on her back glow for a moment, recognizing the fabric and the fact that she was going to take a life. She slipped her arms into the suit and zipped it up. The sensation was incredible as if a light moved from the top of her head down to her toes.

Soon, her body was concealed, leaving only her hands, feet, and head exposed. Next, the gloves, which were sleek, black, and fitted. Finally, her feet. She must be swift. That’s where the shoe socks came in handy. Of course, each time she got a new pair of shoe socks, she asked a mage to place a spell on them so she’d be able to walk swiftly and safely over treacherous terrain or even over fire.

Her head.

She liked to do this one in the mirror. It just added that extra boost of confidence she craved. She brushed into the hotel bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror, hard. Her skin was flushed, her green eyes were glittering excitedly, and her strawberry blonde hair fell in natural, loose curls around her shoulders. Grabbing her hair, she pulled it back into a tight ponytail. She bared her teeth in a savage smile.

Very slowly, she brought the cowl over her ponytail, over her forehead. Goodbye, Lilith. Hello, famed killer, Red Shadow. Red not because of her hair but because of the blood she left behind. Shadow because she moved like a ghost, not seen, heard, or felt.

“Hello?” Someone knocked on the door. “Housekeeping. Anyone in there?”

Lilith scowled, pulling the cowl back over her ponytail. “Yes,” she snapped. “I’m in here. Come back later.”

Lilith looked back at the mirror. The atmosphere was gone. The cleaning man had shattered it.

She didn’t hear a response. That was understandable. What seemed odd was the fact that it was entirely too quiet. She had excellent hearing. She should’ve heard the wheels of the cleaning cart, or at least the guy muttering something.

Nothing.

Her ear twitched. She could pick out something. It was muffled, but she recognized it: the sound of a gun being loaded, quiet enough for her to just barely hear it. No time to mess around with theatrics. She dragged the cowl across her face and felt the power course through her body.

Red Shadow was alive and well. She dashed into the other room and scooped up her rifle onto her back with the strap just as the door busted down from the other side. Two men with automatic rifles in their hands barged into the room. The gig was up. Night Star was probably dead somewhere.

“Hey, boys,” Lilith said. She slowly reached for her enchanted whip on the nightstand by her bed. It was a nasty weapon. It bonded with its owner and moved almost like a part of the owner’s own body. Green spells crackled from it at her touch, but she let it hang and drag across the ground. “You from Storm?”

“Put your hands up, assassin!” one roared.

They had Storm’s copper-colored emblem on their shoulders. Somehow, they must have found out her and Night Star’s plan.

She backed up, holding her hands up as she backed out sliding door into the open air of the balcony. “You got me. I surrender. Don’t shoot.”

She felt the railing of the balcony hit her lower back.

“Stop moving!” roared one of the guards, leveling the barrel of his gun at her chest.

“Easy, now, fellas,” she said, hands still up with her whip in one hand and gun strapped across her back. She couldn’t afford for them to shoot her. She wasn’t bulletproof. She glanced back over the edge of the balcony of the ground five stories down. She bit her lip. “Listen, guys, it’s been really fun chatting, but I’ve gotta go.”

With that, she popped herself over the railing of the balcony. Gravity grabbed her and pulled her through the open air, but she had just barely enough time to shoot them the middle finger with her free hand.