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drive thru. Since I’d never been to In-N-Out Burger before, he insisted on ordering me something called a “Double-Double” with “large fries, well done.” I wasn’t sure exactly what any of that meant, but the heavenly aroma of grilled beef made my carnivore’s heart go pitter-patter.
    The chick in the orange apron handed over a box overflowing with burgers and cardboard boats filled with golden fries. Slade carried the feast to a small sitting area next to the parking lot.
    He didn’t wait for me to sit before digging into his food. I smiled at the utterly satisfied sounds escaping between his bites. For someone who’d come across so cold all night, Slade seemed to have a passion for food. He finally slowed down enough to notice I hadn’t tried mine. He pointed at the box with his own burger. “Dig in,” he said over a mouthful.
    I wouldn’t quite call the experience orgasmic, but it was a near thing. “Godsdamn!” I said after I’d inhaled half the thing.
    â€œRight?” Slade said, shoving two fries into his mouth.
    We spent a few minutes munching companionably, watching cars pass by on Foothill Boulevard. Finally, I washed down my last bite with a gulp of cold soda. I was feeling good. Not just because of the burgers, either. What had started out as a disaster of a first mission—what with Slade being an ass—had turned into a pretty decent night.
    â€œSlade?” I asked.
    â€œHmm?”
    â€œDo you think we should review what we know so far?”
    He grimaced, as if I’d just brought up a taboo subject. “Not much to review.”
    â€œBut we have Zeke’s personnel file. Maybe we should go through it for clues. You know, proof he’s the one whose threatening the Dominae.”
    Slade raised an eyebrow. “Clues? Sabina, we’re not detectives.” He leaned in, whispering so the people at other tables wouldn’t overhear. “We’re assassins. It’s not up to us to prove or deny Zeke’s guilt. It’s up to us to end him. Period.”
    â€œBut the guy on the video was wearing a mask. How can we be sure it’s this Zeke guy? After all, the perp could have opened the bank account under Zeke’s name to throw us off his trail.”
    Slade cocked his head. “Slow down, Kojak. We’re assassins, not detectives.”
    My face went hot at his dismissive tone. Ignoring him, I opened the file. Zeke’s job application was on top. I scanned the page, looking for something. What, I had no idea. I scanned past the work history, since we already knew his last place of employment. Finally, my eyes landed on his chicken-scratched answers to a series of questions.
    I snorted. “Listen to this. ‘Why do you want to work at T&A Video?’” I looked up to make sure Slade was paying attention. He was taking a drink from his soda, but his eyes widened in a facsimile of real interest. “Zeke said, ‘Cause I like to watch people fucking.’”
    Slade spewed a mouthful of soda across the table. “At least he’s honest,” he said once he’d stopped choking.
    I smiled and continued. “‘Please discuss your previous experience in the adult film industry.’ Zeke put ‘Does whacking off to it three times a day count?’’”
    We both laughed so loud that the other customers started sending curious looks our way. Finally, I recovered enough to say, “The funniest part is that these answers got him the job.”
    Slade smiled and took another sip of his drink. A flash of fang peeked out when he pulled the straw away. “You surprised me tonight,” he said, suddenly more serious.
    â€œI know.”
    The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’m sorry if I was an asshole earlier. I just had a bad experience with the last rookie the Dominae saddled me with.”
    â€œWho was it?”
    â€œMischa Petrov.”
    I