Angel and the Assassin

Alexander

    Chapter Two

    Vienna, Austria

    At a safe distance, Kael watched the Pension Neuer Markt as the sky
    darkened and the streets grew quiet around him. He stood in the heart of Vienna,
    Freud‟s city, waiting for the perfect moment to go inside the hotel and kill
    Weirstein. A smile crept over his face as he walked around the building to the
    alleyway at the rear.
    Sex and death. What would Freud think?
    The back door of the Pension stood propped open with a chair. A man, a waiter
    by the looks of his uniform, stood outside finishing a cigarette, blowing the bluish
    smoke away from the door. Kael crossed the wide alley quickly in a few long strides,
    pulling on a pair of extremely thin, transparent latex gloves. They fit like skin over
    his large hands.
    “Filthy habit,” he said in perfect German.
    The man turned to see who had spoken, and as he did, Kael grabbed him from
    behind, pressed his arm against the man‟s throat, and applied his fingers to the
    bulging jugular vein. The man passed out in seconds, still breathing heavily.
    Kael eased him to the ground and dragged him inside the dim passage. He was
    a big, heavy man, but Kael had no trouble dragging him to the mop cupboard near
    the kitchen. Inside the cramped space, Kael stripped off his clothes, stuffing them
    as he did into the small bag he had brought. Then he quickly undressed the
    unconscious man. The waiter‟s uniform was not a good fit, but he had targeted him
    because he was the biggest out of the stream of employees who had stood outside
    smoking over the last couple of hours.
    When he was dressed, he put the retractable scalpel and a condom in his
    pocket for later. He opened the door a crack and looked cautiously out into the
    empty passage.
    Drawing himself up and settling into the uniform—the aura of a waiter—he
    put his bag outside behind the bins to retrieve later and walked back inside,
    heading for the main stairs. On the way up, he passed a couple of guests and
    nodded respectfully, moving to the side to allow them room, but he did not look
    anyone in the eyes and continued quickly along the carpeted passage.
    From his observations he knew Weirstein was alone, and he knocked
    confidently on the door.

    Angel and the Assassin
    7

    “What?” the man asked, pulling the door open, an impatient look on his face. “I
    didn‟t order anything.”
    One side of Kael‟s mouth tilted up and his lips parted, revealing beautiful,
    straight, white teeth. “Are you sure, sir?”
    Conran was right; Weirstein was very handsome, though he was no longer a
    young man, well over fifty. Kael looked into his eyes and saw the pupils dilate,
    indicating his arousal.
    Weirstein had answered the door straight from the shower, wearing only a
    toweling dressing gown tied loosely at the waist. With a small towel he dried his
    short, light gray hair.
    “Come in.” He opened the door wider. “I suppose you want money?” It was
    obvious from his straightforward acceptance that he had paid for sex before and was
    more than willing to pay now.
    Kael‟s smile broadened, giving Weinstein the impression that he was saying
    yes, when in fact it was his natural response when everything fell into place. The
    man was going to die either way, but Kael was always happier when the target
    cooperated.
    Weirstein walked toward the bed. “I haven‟t seen you before, and I have been
    here two days. I would have noticed a man like you.” He did not ask why, and Kael
    never offered a cover story unless he had to. A trickle of water ran down the side of
    the man‟s face, but not from his shower; it was sweat, indicating how excited he was
    becoming. “How old are you?”
    “Thirty-two.” Kael always told the truth when he could or when it didn‟t
    matter. He took the condom from his pocket and held it up. Then he removed his
    clothes, dropping them on the floor, but kept the gloves on, knowing the man was
    too aroused and distracted to notice anyway.
    The older man watched him, still wearing the dressing gown. “You‟re very
    handsome,” he said, looking Kael up and down. Kael took the compliment in stride,
    knowing he was handsome and that his muscles were well developed and rock hard
    from his regular attendance at the Paris Gym.
    Naked, he took one step toward Weirstein and pulled the man‟s belt loose, then
    pushed the robe off his shoulders, revealing an attractive, trim-waisted body and a
    jutting, hard cock.
    Kael wrapped his arms around the