Hit or Miss, to Kill or Kiss - Romeo Alexander Page 0,2

the intervening years. Clay had spotted a harbor while on the highway, but the buildings at the center were the showy, towering monuments to big business. As the city developed, its core might have grown to its commercial heights, but it became more residential as it spread out. He’d eschewed the far suburbs of Port Dale, aiming for the cluster of small businesses and apartments squeezed in the middle.

First on his list was to find a place to stay. In the modern-day, it was a little trickier to find places that accepted cash. While that might have been a problem for him once, the solution came in the form of ever-useful prepaid cards. He always took pains to make sure the cards didn’t look prepaid when he purchased them, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

Yet as with most hotels, the one he found had a tired looking receptionist who barely glanced at him or the card. She rang him up, gave him his card back, and wished him a pleasant stay in a standard, friendly tone.

The room itself was nothing special, but that was fine by him. There was little to separate one hotel room from another. They weren’t homes, just waystations for him to plan and prepare while on a job, or to blend in among normal people while he was off work. All that mattered to him was the shower at the back of the room, nestled in the corner.

Dropping his bag onto one of the two beds, Clay pulled his clothes off as he made his way to the bathroom. After fiddling with the shower to get it to the scalding temperature he preferred, he slipped in. The heat of the water flashed against his skin, but Clay ignored it even as his skin turned ruddy. Scooping up the bar of soap provided by the hotel, he scrubbed over his arms, chest and down his stomach. He always scrubbed a little harder than was necessary after a job, but just like the burning hot water, it was a ritual.

After nearly twenty minutes of vigorous scrubbing, he stepped from the steaming shower and wrapped a towel around his hips. Finally, feeling clean enough to check himself over, he stepped up to the mirror and wiped the condensation off with the other towel.

He was never quite sure why some part of him always expected to see something different. Clay’s reflection hadn’t changed since the last time he looked. The same unremarkable dark brown hair kept short, so it was easily covered during work. His face, while stony in expression, was well-shaped, with a strong jaw, not too good looking or ugly to draw attention. Honestly, just about everything about him was average. He was average height, and he never bulked himself up or starved himself either. His muscles fit his frame, his stomach flat and chest firm, nothing to give away the deadliness of the skill he held locked away in his mind.

There was only one thing about him that was likely to draw attention.

Dark brown eyes flicked toward his reflection, sweeping over his naked body one last time. Reaching up, he pinched the flexible lens in his left eye and pulled it free. With a seamless motion, he plucked the right lens from his other eye. He cast both contact lenses into the toilet before turning back to the mirror. Bright blue eyes, as sharp and clear as the finest sapphire, stared back at him.

With a sigh, he rustled through his bag again and pulled out his clothes. The sun was still coming up, and he wanted to witness it before he finally turned in for the day. Once he was dressed, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes and stepped onto the sidewalk outside his room. He lit one, sucking the smoke deep. It was one of the few vices he allowed himself, and only when he wasn’t working. His head grew fuzzy as his body rushed to deal with the sudden blast of nicotine, and he stood there, letting the sensation roll through him as he watched the sky light up further.

There was a shuffling noise, soft and barely audible over the growing sounds of cars and the singing birds. Clay noted it, keeping his eyes on the sky. He knew everyone liked to compare it to fire, but then again, he also thought it was rather appropriate too. As though the sun had to burn away the night in order to soar high in the