The Seraphim Sequence

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‘How did you find me?’ Damien asked.

He was standing directly behind her. He didn’t make any sudden movements, he knew she was aware of his presence.

‘Passport Pete, East Harlem,’ Nasira said, turning slowly, her gaze cast low. ‘Your one-stop identity shop.’

He’d been aware of Nasira surveilling him for the best part of the morning. His morning run along the beach was the only routine he kept, and he kept it because he liked to know who was watching him, and most importantly who was trying to kill him. So far, one particularly clever, recently deceased mercenary. And now her.

She’d waited until he’d finished his run before approaching, probably because he’d be too exhausted to evade her by then. To save her the trouble, he approached her as she left the yacht club. She had one hand in her pocket, so he kept a few feet between them. It was windy and there weren’t many people sitting at the tables outside.

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