They’d watched the target for a couple of days. It was important he was right for the job. There had been a few occasions in the past when she had jumped too early. Snatched a guy. Turned out he was no way suitable, not up to the healing job. Then they were left with the mess of disposing of the body and starting the search all over again. This dude, though, seemed to have that inner strength she craved. There were plenty to be grabbed outside any gym with bodies like that. Males obsessed with the beauty of their own physique. This one had all that .. seriously muscled, ripped abs, shredded upper body. But the stud had more .. this one moved with the grace of a gazelle. Lean and muscular like a prowling cheetah on the hunt.
Plus some mysterious factor he was still struggling to put into words. An aura. A sense of the dramatic. An element of risk. This built physique was not for preening, the stud looked like this for a purpose. For a living. And a living that stretched even a body like this to its limits. And in that, he was perfect for the job. He’d been right about the stud. He was all-muscle. But getting built like this, this did not come ready-made. He had worked his butt off to get a body on him like this.
And not some ordinary gym-rat either. If anything, more akin to some pro-bodybuilder. This stud had primed himself as if he was styling himself for heavyweight competition. Days and years of back-breaking hard work, dedicated, to come out looking like this stud. Lifting him into the SUV confirmed it. A challenge even for his own supreme strength. The guy was all raw-muscle. Deadweight or not, he was heavier than he looked. He was solid densely packed muscle, barely a bit of fat wasted on his physique. No wonder Anna had picked him out. Drawn to him. Magnetic.
Anna was needy, his twin, when she got like this. Scott had always known that, he had grown up with his sister being taken by her affliction. And to cure it .. she needed to be given her head .. let go .. give way .. have her fun. Once she’d finished playing with her toy, once this … Nick Carter, was that this stud’s name on his Visa card? .. there’d be nothing left. Then she could relax. If she’d had balls, his sister, the way she was looking over this stud, he’d have thought she was getting her rocks off ….
For as long as he could remember, they had known only this life. They had been trained together. They were assassins, the way they earned their living. And they were among the best. Parents died early. Sent to the cult .. trained for this life-style since childhood. A life of exacting physical demands. Assassins. Honed to physical perfection, the pair of them. The cult earned well by their success. Their way of repaying their cult masters for a childhood of training and care. Killing for a living. And if a client needed intel first .. if some persuasion was required .. they were more than practised at turning their hands to that too. Techniques she was going to use to perfection now the affliction had come over her.
Once done .. once she’d done what she needed to do .. then things would get back to normal. His sister would smile on her brother again. They’d wrap themselves in each other’s kisses. They’d rock together in slow passionate love. Like only brother and sister could. Scott could afford to indulge her. He could afford for his sister to indulge her needs. Once the stud had succumbed .. once he had done all her could do for her ….. things would again be as they had been. As they were supposed to be. As fate had willed them to be. Twins. Brother and sister. In love. Inextricably entwined.