An Assassin's Destiny: A Reverse Harem Series (The Huntress Series Book 3)

by A. K. Koonce

  Just as I break through the tree line, I trip over something and sprawl onto the hard, abrading texture of the forest floor. Rocks and sticks cut my palms as I disentangle myself from whatever I stumbled over. Until I look behind me and see my sister’s still, lifeless body in the dim light of the forest.

  The breath I was already fighting for escapes me, and I scramble on hands and knees to her side. There’s no blood, but she’s certainly just as knocked out as Tylin is. My scraped, bloody palms smooth over her still form, feeling her thready pulse and barely there inhales, before an angry scream rents from my lips. More anger than I’ve ever felt fills my veins, and the powers I’ve absorbed storm and rage inside of me.

  And there are two things I know for sure.

  Someone is going to die today.

  And it sure as hell isn’t going to be me.

  Twenty

  A Love More Powerful

  Cool metal greets my throat, the sharp sting of a knife pressing precariously against my jugular. Most people would start freaking out at this point. But not me. A sinister smile curves my lips as I feel my past life as an assassin pressing in on me.

  I guess you can take the assassin out of the League, but you can never truly take the League out of the assassin.

  My hands itch to reach for the weapon I know isn’t attached to my person any longer, and my breath hums in and out of my lungs as the world slows down, each movement—each play—flying through my mind before I’ve even moved a muscle.

  “You’re a hard one to lure away.” Mars’ smooth voice is cold and calculating, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction. “Always surrounded by your harem of boys and never on your own. Your father would be so displeased with how reliant you’ve become on others. You were raised better than that, Hart.” His dark tone, this new strange persona he has, and the use of my assassin handle, all has my mind racing along with the mention of my late father.

  Damn his lying ass to eternal hell.

  “Good thing he’s dead, then,” I snark, each movement of my throat pressing into the threatening dagger.

  Mars let’s out a raw laugh. It’s a single note that sends shock waves through me and makes me question the validity of my last statement. Every doubt I’ve had about my father’s death rises inside of me, but I don't let it show.

  “I knew you were no good,” I whisper. It’s a reprimand against myself as much as it’s a statement—a fact—about Mars.

  “And yet you let me close to Tylin. Let me stay in the mansion. Why?” There’s genuine curiosity in his tone. And the answer smacks me in the face with the sting of reality.

  “Because I didn’t trust myself or my instincts enough to throw your ass to the curb a long time ago,” I growl, hating the answer. “But I won’t be making that mistake twice.” It’s a promise. One I intend to keep.

  Mars lets out a maniacal laugh that sends a frisson of fear into my chest. He sounds unhinged. “I guess it’s good you’re out of chances then, isn’t it?”

  Rustling sounds draw my attention to the trees around us, as half a dozen other assassins step into my line of sight. Each one wears a perfected scowl that I decide I should add to my list of things to teach. I make a mental note to add Introduction to Menacing Glares to my syllabus for my Assassins 101 class.

  I swallow hard as the group steps forward, intent on subduing me if I give them any problems. Their intent is clear in their eyes, but I also notice something else. None of them have actually made a move to hurt me. Which means they want me alive for some reason.

  It’s my lucky day.

  “Carter,” Mars barks, addressing a guy not much older than myself. His red hair stands in bright contrast to the earthy green colors surrounding him. He steps forward. “Portal. Now.”

  Rounding his hands together in a ritualistic way, a blue orb swells and grows between Carter’s hands, until it’s large enough to fit at least one person.

  And I realize I’m out of time. The other assassins all move closer, and I let my power gather in my fingertips as I reach back and make contact with Mars’ arm.

  And halt time.

  I knock his blade away from my skin and focus on his energy. The skin on skin contact brings forward the hard block that’s within him.

  Something inside him is set into place, and it’s there because of me, to block me specifically.

  How many people have the power to do something like that?

  I latch on to the abundance of powers swirling inside me and I force them into him all at once, until a nice, audible gasp rips from the frozen man above me.

  Good.

  And then, the block crumbles within him. The energy in him that I needed so much slips into me with ease.

  Finally.

  I’ve wasted too much time trying to pry into his abilities and it makes my hands shake as I try to do the one thing that matters right now. I crawl to Allison and throw my hands down onto her upper chest and stomach. My eyes close and I throw my head back as I single out the swirl of Mars’ powers within me, and force his power into her body, praying I’m healing her when I’m so sure he had the power to harm as well.

  It’s how he hurt Allison.

  It’s the entire reason Tylin hasn’t healed yet.

  All the dots connect, but at this point, it’s too late to do anything but fix what I can in the time I have left.

  As soon as I feel her breathing regulate, I pull the powers back into my body to save for later. Then my hold on time ends.

  In one smooth move, I stand and turn toward Mars with my hands raised and ready to fight. All the power I contain thrums inside of me, ready to desolate, but then I can’t move. I can’t do a damn thing as tendrils of electric power wrap around my body in a containing way that sets my teeth on edge.

  Every part of me hurts with stabbing pain.

  “Meet Luka,” Mars grits out, groaning from how I hurt him, but he straightens and waves his hand toward a blond kid that can’t be any older than Allison is. “An immobilizer. Such a useful power, wouldn’t you agree, Hart?” Mars steps forward with narrowed eyes and nods to Luka, who drags me with his powers to the portal with such little effort that I’d actually be embarrassed if I wasn’t so close to tears right now. It’s useless to fight against the flaring ropes of power wrapped around me, and I do my best to just conserve my energy.

  The last thing I hear is the weak sound of my name falling from Allison’s lips as she wakes up. It’s a shaking gasp that twists my stomach so hard, I jerk against my stinging restraints. As I glance behind me, struggling to see her, the swirling blue of the portal envelops me, and then I’m nowhere and everywhere at once. Lost somewhere in time and space before the magical doorway spits me out into a heap on rough, dark asphalt.

  “Where the fuck are we?” I glare daggers up at Mars through blurry eyes. His amber gaze almost glows in the yellow light of the street lamp, which creates a circle of warmth against the cool, blue dusk settling over the city.

  I open my senses and try to take in my surroundings, hoping something will give me a hint to my location, but the street is just as nondescript as any old street in any old city. We could be halfway around the world and I wouldn’t know. Except the sky tells me that we’re still somewhere on the East Coast, given the setting sun and long shadows. Are we still in Rochester? Are we even in New York?

  Hauled to my feet, I’m pulled across the street and through a metal door with chipped red paint flaking off of it.

  The warehouse is dark and echoes with our footsteps. The group of assassins surround me on all sides, and it makes a grin tip my lips despite the now numbing pain. It’s a compliment really. They find me dangerous.

  And they’d be right.

  There are three flights of metal stairs, and the assassins break their formation, with some guarding the stairwell while others take up positions outside another metal door, this one in better condition. Mars walks through it first, and then I’m forced through with Luka at my back, kee
ping me restrained. Carter is the last one through the door and he shuts it behind us with an audible, perilous click.

  The room is stark and medical with white tile floors and overhead fluorescent lighting. On one wall is a stretcher-like bed with restraints attached in each corner. On the other side is a wall of cabinets with a sink that remind me of every doctor’s office I've ever been inside.

  The far wall, however, is what captures my attention. Or more specifically, the man in the wheelchair staring at me with ice in his eyes.

  “Alexa,” Derek drawls in a familiar tone that freezes me solid. “Welcome.” He waves his hands in a sweeping motion, one to each side, as if he's welcoming me to Disney World rather than the hellish room before me.

  “You're not as dead as I thought you were.” I arch a brow, and try not to let my shock and pain sound in my words.

  Because, holy fuck, he's actually alive.

  Everything Vale said about trusting my instincts reverberates back to me now, and I wish more than anything I'd looked into his disappearance harder.

  “Not for lack of trying,” Derek comments dryly. “Then again, you are my daughter. Raised to be a lethal killer. You just happen to be on the wrong side of the war.”

  “What war?” I scoff. “The League is over. Disbanded. There is no war.”

  “Yet.” The gleam in his eyes turns my stomach sour. “That's why you're here, my dear. Not only will it antagonize the leaders of your pathetic little group, and cause them to lash out, but you'll finally be ready to fulfill your destiny.” He waves a dismissive hand toward the medical table I'd seen earlier, but I don't look at it. I keep my focus locked on Derek and the assassin that stands next to him.

  “And what destiny is that?” I keep him talking. Distracted while the power I have within surges and builds.

  I don’t even feel the throbbing pain of my restraints anymore.

  “To annihilate those who stand against us. To take us to the next level. You, Alexa, are the ultimate power, don't you see? I created you. Gave you life. Combined the right amalgamation of powers to create the perfect assassin. You can absorb the power of any assassin you'd like and hold it within yourself, calling upon it when you need it. You're the key to destruction. The one who will win us what we want most.”

  “You make me sound like the next Jean Grey,” I snark, but the glint I'd seen in him earlier only intensifies, and I realize that's exactly what he wants.

  Welcome to the dark side.

  Fuck the cookies.

  I need some straight up tequila.

  “Once you've come into your full powers, you'll be ready to destroy those who stand in my way. Our way, Alexa. With me by your side, we will rule the world. We’ll have everything. Everything I never had before I was an assassin. Everything Armond could never give us. It’ll all be ours, daughter.” The smile that forms on Derek's face will live in my nightmares if I make it through this.

  He signals his assassins with a nod to Luka. My feet slide unwarranted across the shiny tiles toward the bed of doom to my left. The heels of my shoes scrape over the floor with my resistance, but the strong magic tethers binding me don't give in the slightest.

  My legs collide with the bed, and the smallest, breathy sound leaves my lungs as panic explodes in my chest with a rush of adrenaline that has the whirling power inside of my body writhing and twisting, pressing against my skin.

  I hold it back, unwilling to release it until I get a few more answers. Until I can find an advantage.

  “There's something I don't understand,” I grumble out, as I fight against the tugging power pulling me toward the bed.

  With a wave of Derek's hand, the struggle ceases. “What don't you understand?” Derek motions for the man next to him to wheel his chair closer, positioning himself directly in my line of sight.

  “How are you alive?” I asked with a note of true confusion. “I saw you die.”

  “And so I did, but my allies are extensive. It would behoove you to remember that fact.” It's a stone cold threat that shivers down my spine, but I don't acknowledge it.

  “So one of them transported you away that night,” I surmise. “And then you were healed.” I cast my gaze across the room toward the door where Mars is standing, glancing to the floor as he refuses to make eye contact with me. “By Mars.” The sheer betrayal hits me with more force than I anticipated, and I know once Scarlett finds out about this, it's going to rip her apart. She let this guy in. Slept with him. And he aided the very person who injured her beloved brother, taking some of his sight in the process.

  This is the kind of shit you just can't make up. We've far surpassed Day of Our Lives, but the damn saga continues.

  “Mars healed me, and then I sent him undercover to you. It was almost too easy for Mars to infiltrate your little setup. Really, I was disappointed that you didn't present more of a challenge until now. Was there no one working background checks?” Derek shakes his head like some crestfallen parental figure, and I barely stop myself from snorting at his theatrics.

  Really, though, background checks from now on. Assassin applications, interviews, background checks, the whole nine to five, office gig setup after this.

  Assuming I live.

  “Mason couldn't track you.” It's the last piece to my mystery. The one thing I need to know so he never evades me again. Not that I plan to let him live long enough.

  “Meet Peter.” He motions to the man still gripping his wheelchair. Light, nearly white eyes appraise me and I stare right back, trying to figure out this dude's power. As if reading my mind, Derek smirks and gives me the answer. “He's a shield. A very powerful one, just like his father.” Derek smirks as he watches that news sink in. “Yes. You have a half brother. In fact, you have many half siblings.” Derek muses, but I don't think he realizes that the impact of his revelation is lessened after last time. Nothing beats learning you have Darth Vadar for a father. His face falls into hard lines at my lack of a reaction, and one of my dark brows slashes up, waiting for my answer. “He's been by my side since the moment I returned. Your Mouse is no match against his barriers.”

  I hate that he just used Mason’s nickname so fondly.

  “Clever.” I glance around the room and count the men inside, then tally that number with the four who remained outside in the hallway. Nine. Nine people I need to take out. I roll my neck and then flex my power as the immobilizer begins to wrestle me once more toward the bed.

  Not happening, sweetheart. I've seen Deadpool. I know how this shit ends.

  My hold on time locks into place.

  Sixty seconds.

  Using all my willpower, I slip from the bonds wrapped around me and blast the man, Luka, who used them against me, hitting him full force with Rory's powers. His body leaves the ground in slow motion, but I don't wait and watch. My attention is already on Carter, sending him flying as well. Rounding my attention, I whip toward Derek and send electric, sizzling bolts flying straight toward the man shielding him, and then do the same to the healer that was supposed to be on my fucking side.

  I grind my teeth, lingering on Mars for a moment longer than the others.

  Twenty seconds. I head straight for Derek and wrap my hand around the bastard’s throat. My palm heats with my intent, and I begin to rip away at his power.

  It’s all too much. It all blazes inside me with too much force.

  Ten seconds. His lips curve in the slowest, eeriest way that should not be possible, and then my hold on time releases.

  Derek's chuckle sounds delighted as his entire team goes flying into the walls in one catastrophic blast. Bolts of Jameson's blue electricity have his shield disabled and writhing on the floor, the burnt smell wafting off of him is unpleasant, yet victorious.

  “Well done. You're coming along better than I gave Armond credit for. He raised you well,” Derek praises, and I tighten my hold on his throat, cutting off his airway and drawing his power faster. The magnitude of all the mixing energies he's stolen from
other assassins astonishes me. The amount of power that fills me to nearly full already is an incredible and painful rush that goes straight to my head.

  I flinch from it but don’t back down.

  “Armond didn't raise me. I raised myself. I'm nothing like you. Or him.” I try to focus past the buzz starting in my ears and siphon harder, shoving down all the power I have until there's room for more like a greedy kid who ate too much dinner, but still wants their desert.

  The color draining from Derek's face is like sweet revenge for what he's done to Tylin through Mars, who happens to be lying in a heap on the floor.

  The sound of a battle outside the room greets us, and it's my turn to smile.

  “Reinforcements,” I inform Derek through the whizzing hum of energy consuming me. I've never taken so much power before. Never been this full. Not with Armond. Not with Rory. My skin tingles from the press of how energized I am, and without a release, it just keeps growing.

  Like an overfilled balloon, I'm terrified I'm going to burst.

  And then my arms begin to flicker in and out of focus. A cold, rough hand grasps my wrist. Derek holds me with a weakness that fuels my resolve.

  Energy crackles down my spine, and the tingle playing over my skin becomes a painful, burning sting.

  Still, I take more.

  Objects around the room begin to levitate as a small trickle of power escapes me. But I still absorb more.

  The door crashed open and I don't turn. I don't dare look away from the man who's already slipped by me once.

  It won’t happen again. I won’t let him hurt one of us ever again.

  “You have no hold on me.” The deep, husky gasp of my voice is almost indistinguishable, even to my own ears, but I only continue to pull.

  The burn builds to a scalding pain.

  “Lex!” Jameson calls out. I know he's here. Tylin’s here. Weak, but here. I can feel them all close by, but I can't… won't… look away from the father who wants nothing but my cooperation and destruction.

  “This is not my destiny.” A rumbling groan vibrates through the floor and the walls around me crack in jagged lines. Dust and debris crumble into the room as the drywall splits like paper.