Promises and Pomegranates by Sav R. Miller

When I breeze from the room, hitting accept on the incoming call,
temporary relief floods through me as my body struggles to go back to
normal.
MY ASSOCIATE’S utter bewilderment at the prospect of me getting married
starts to give me a complex, the longer he drones on about how he “bloody
can’t believe it.”
Standing in the hall outside Elena’s childhood bedroom, I pace back and
forth with my phone pressed to my ear, regretting having given Jonas Wolfe
my cell number.
“These are some pretty extreme measures you’re going to here,
Anderson,” he says, his British accent thickening the more he talks. “Are you
sure she’s worth it?”
“Only one way to find out.”
He hums, and I hear the distinct zip of a body bag being sealed shut,
disappointment settling in my gut. Normally, I’d take care of the cleanup
myself, but since I had to chaperone my new wife, there was no time.
Still, I’d hoped to be the last person Mateo’s physical form saw on this
planet before he’s tossed to the bottom of the Charles.
“Have you made contact with your target, then? Let her know what’s
going on?”
Voices rise behind Elena’s closed door, and I pause, my gaze flickering
toward it. Who is in there right now?
I haven’t seen anyone come or go, and I’ve been keeping watch for the
last ten minutes. After leaving the foyer downstairs, I’d set up shop here,
ready to bust in the second it seemed like maybe she was trying to flee.
Until now, it’s been silent, and I don’t like the way the sudden intrusion
tightens the tendons in my neck.
Slinking toward the door, I answer Jonas with a brief “no,” aware that if I
don’t he’ll start badgering me again.
When we met a decade ago on Aplana Island, the place my mother used
to drag me when she had the money to spare, the only thing I’d known about
him was that he wasn’t allowed near Primrose Manor, where the island’s
owning family lives.