Crimson Highlander: An Onyx Assassins Novel

by Whiskey, Samantha

  “She’s not my—”

  “She’s your mate! Whether or not you choose to accept that bond and everything that comes with it, you can’t deny the truth of it.”

  “Fine,” I grumbled, heaviness settling in the pit of my stomach.

  “Just do what you always do and turn what you perceive as a weakness into a tactical advantage.” He smacked my shoulder as Ransom jogged out of the house. “Get to the bottom of it.”

  “You two done listening to the aristocrats bitch and moan about shit they could solve if they got off their cushy little asses long enough to try?” he asked with a smirk.

  “Dorchester doesn’t feel like we’re doing enough to quell the threat,” Alek said as we walked toward Ransom.

  “Tell him to join up and quell it himself,” Hawke muttered from the doorway.

  “Ha. Now that would be a sight.” Ransom’s grin failed. “Look, Xavier called and said he had intel, so I wended over to the Conclave chambers to meet his messenger.” He reached inside his jacket and removed a folded paper, handing it to Alek.

  “It’s a contract for an event at the opera house,” Alek told me, scanning it over and then giving it to me.

  “And? Events happen at the opera house all the time.” I read through the details. Fourth of July, catering, staff, fireworks, the whole party package. The Slatesmark Opera House was the one piece of property owned by Conclave—the council of supernaturals—and though the Conclave’s chambers were deep beneath the ground, facilitating our need for privacy, the building itself was constantly rented for events, helping keep our cover. “Who is Living Pine, LLC?” I asked, flipping the document over to finish reading.

  “That’s the fun part.” Ransom grinned. “Keep reading.”

  I reached the end of the contract, and ice invaded my veins, freezing the very breath in my lungs.

  “Boom.” Ransom put up his hands like he’d detonated a bomb.

  He may as well have.

  “That’s Valor’s signature.” My voice faded to a whisper.

  “Sure is.” Ransom nodded.

  Alek remained silent, no doubt waiting for me to draw my own conclusions so I could compare them to his.

  “Did you dig up the info on the LLC?” I asked Ransom, thumbing over the signature.

  “Yep. It’s a shell. But I have a feeling you might know someone who can give us the details.” He lifted his brows.

  If I trust her not to lie.

  “It’s dated from last year,” I muttered. She’d signed this before everything had gone to shit—before Lyric had been taken, and Valor had gone into hiding. Before she’d supposedly left Moorehouse and the Sons.

  “Old intel is better than no intel,” Ransom shrugged. “She’s in the library with Lyric and Avi.”

  I nodded and headed straight for the residence.

  “Benefit of the doubt!” Alek called after me.

  “Make sure it’s not another fucking trap,” Hawke whispered as I passed.

  Leave it to him to get straight to the point.

  The females were laughing when I walked into the two-story library Lyric spent most of her nights in. It was nice to see it getting some use. The five of us had already read just about every text in here. Immortality had its perks.

  “Hey, Lach—” Lyric’s face fell as she took in my expression, and her gaze darted to Valor, who swallowed.

  “I need a moment with Valor,” I announced, locking my eyes on my mate as the other females quickly made their way to the door.

  Valor was curled up on one end of the couch, her legs tucked under her, one edge of her boatneck sweater falling off her shoulder to reveal a black bra strap.

  Don’t even look. My blood fucking simmered, thawing the ice in my veins and reminding me that my attraction to this woman was dangerous.

  “Well?” She tucked her hair behind her ear and motioned to the vacated seats.

  The bond between us tugged at me, begging me to close the distance between our bodies. The kiss we’d shared had fortified the bond and was on replay in my brain about every thirty seconds. Her lips had been so soft, her taste intoxicating, and the way she’d hooked her leg—

  Concentrate.

  “Benedict is going to live.” I sank into the wingback chair across from the couch, keeping a healthy distance between us.

  She heaved a sigh of relief, sagging against the back of the couch. “Thank God.”

  “God didn’t have much to do with that one. It was Lyric’s blood and the fact that the bullet only grazed him. The Night Thistle drove him mad for forty-eight hours and nearly killed him.” It was a struggle to keep my voice level.

  “I know.” She looked down at her hands. “I never meant for him to get hurt.”

  Her voice was soft but strong, and I couldn’t detect a lie in it. Then again, Benedict wasn’t exactly available for consult. He was still currently sleeping off the after-effects of the Night Thistle.

  “I want to believe you.” I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on my knee.

  “I can see why you wouldn’t.” Her eyes met mine, and there was an emotion there I’d never seen in her before—regret. “I should have read it closer. I must have missed something—”

  “Or they know you’re with us and deliberately played you.” That was the only explanation I’d been able to think of that didn’t leave me throwing my mate out on her ass for nearly getting my brother killed.

  Her eyes flew wide, and she sucked in a breath. “There’s no way…” Two lines formed between her eyebrows.

  “We’ve suspected that there’s a leak in the estate since last year.” I glanced at the contract in my hand, knowing it would either condemn her or possibly exonerate her, and my heart clenched, hoping for the latter. “Who is Living Pine, LLC?”

  She startled, her eyebrows shooting up. “It’s one of the shell companies used by Moorehouse Industries. The business at Moorehouse is all legitimate. It had to be in order to continue funding the Sons of Honor, but we formed dozens of shell companies over the years to hide our tracks. Why?” Her head tilted to the side, and she glanced at the contract in my hand.

  She hadn’t lied, so that was a plus in her column.

  “Tell me about this.” I handed the contract over. It was a copy, and I didn’t even question that Ransom had already scanned it in. Guy was anal when it came to the tech.

  She leaned forward, and my skin sizzled where her fingers grazed mine as she took the paper. By the little catch in her breath, she’d felt it, too.

  Good. I was glad I wasn’t the only one suffering here. My skin was tight, my throat parched, and my fangs ached in time with my pulse. Taste. Take. Claim. My body’s demands were pretty damned clear when it came to the incredibly beautiful little minx across from me. Taste—

  Shut the fuck up.

  “Huh. It’s the contract for the Fourth of July party.” She glanced up at me, then back to the document. “Wait! This is it! She’ll—”

  “You honestly think they’re still going to hold a party you set up?” I gritted my teeth against the warring emotions in my gut. One told me to question everything, it was what had kept me alive all this time. The other screamed at me to trust my mate.

  “Absolutely,” she nodded. “Invitations went out months ago. Living Pine is a shell but it’s a charitable shell. This isn’t just a party for Moorehouse—everyone in Edgemont society goes. The mayor, city council…everyone. It’s tradition.” She uncurled those long legs, revealing her bare feet, and leaned forward. Why the hell was she always barefoot? It made her seem more vulnerable—she wouldn’t be able to run properly if there was sudden attack. “We have to go.”

  I scoffed. “Yeah, okay. We tried that once this week already, remember?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t set you up! You either believe me or you don’t, Lachlan, but don’t offer me some explanation that Moorehouse might be using me and then come back at me with the you did this bullshit. That isn’t fair.”

 
The air in the room crackled with tension, and not just the sexual kind I was used to around her. This wasn’t just a matter of getting back her cousin anymore. This went to the very heart of whether or not I could trust the woman fate had paired me with.

  “Okay,” I conceded. “You’re right.”

  Her lips parted in surprise.

  “Everything you’ve told me so far about that document has been the truth. But why the Opera House? And I thought it was standard policy that Moorehouse didn’t gather after sunset for…obvious reasons.” I flashed my fangs.

  “The Opera House is the oldest structure in the city. It survived the Revolution and the War of 1812. The Sons revere that building. We’ve been trying to celebrate the Fourth of July there for the last fifty years, but someone always books it first. That’s how I know they won’t cancel it. And let’s face it, you can’t exactly see the fireworks in the daytime.” She lifted her brows at me.

  That all made plenty of sense. My chest rumbled with laughter. “Fucking ironic,” I muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about.” She wasn’t even close to earning my trust when it came to the location of Conclave.

  “We have to go, Lachlan.” She handed the contract back, this time careful not to touch me.

  “I have to go,” I countered. “I’m not risking my men again.”

  Hurt flashed across her face. “Because you don’t trust me.”

  “Because trust is something you earn, and—” I sighed, clenched my teeth, and tried again. “I believe you. But I’m not risking my men. I’ll go in alone, and if I see Daphne, I’ll extract her.”

  “She’ll run from you.”

  “I’m faster.”

  Valor stood and began pacing in front of the couch, pinching her lower lip between thumb and forefinger. Then she stopped right in front of me. “You can do that whole disappear, reappear thing, right?”

  A smile tugged up the corner of my lips. “It’s called wending, and you already know I can.” That was exactly how she’d gotten my branding mark—I’d palmed the nape of her neck when she’d shown up at the edges of the estate, having tracked Lyric’s phone.

  “Okay, so wend me in with you. If I’m lying, we wend out together, and you can…” She seemed to weigh her thoughts. “Punish me as you see fit.”

  The idea had merit, though I wasn’t sure if I’d want to punish her or fuck her into the nearest wall. Fuck her. Her plan would only put me at risk—not my king or the Order—which was acceptable. “Fine.”

  “Really?” Her slow smile was sexy as hell and twisted up my insides into a damned knot.

  “Really.” I stood and quickly moved to put the chair between us.

  Her scent changed, something heavier coming into play, and I turned to see her shoulders squaring as her chin rose, which I was quickly learning was never a good sign with her.

  “What is it?”

  “What happened in your bedroom…” She swallowed, and her breath hitched slightly.

  “The kiss?” My voice dropped as I tried, and failed, to shove the memory out of my head.

  “Yeah.” She nodded slowly, running her tongue over her lower lip. “That can’t happen again. You muddle up my thoughts, and we agreed not to give in to this.”

  Ouch. But she was right.

  “Agreed. And it’s not me you have to worry about, lass,” I said, turning toward the door and striding across the hardwood floor. “You were the one in my bedroom, remember? Have that talk with yourself.”

  She was sputtering when I shut the doors behind me.

  * * *

  “Open your eyes,” I said softly a few days later, holding Valor’s shoulders steady so she didn’t fall over. Wending could nauseate even the most hardened soldier when they weren’t used to it.

  “That is so fucking weird.” She shivered as she opened her eyes, and I rubbed my hands down her bare arms. Her blue dress was strapless, and what she assured me was semi-casual attire, whatever the fuck that meant.

  She’d put me in slacks and a black dress shirt when I’d laughed my ass off at the green one she’d brought me out of Benedict’s closet. First, I was happy leaving the clothes-horsing to Benedict, and second, I was four inches taller than he was and had a good fifty pounds of muscle on him. Besides, this one tucked in at all the right places to conceal the Glocks holstered in my waistband.

  I wasn’t stupid enough to come unarmed.

  “Where are we?” She looked around in confusion at the stone walls.

  “The cellar,” I answered, focusing my senses outward to listen for footsteps. “All clear. Let’s go.” The door was well-oiled, and I got her out of there before she could notice the hidden doors located in that very room.

  “How did you know it was there?” she whispered, following me out into the fluorescent lighting of the hallway.

  “I was here when this opera house was built, lass.” We’d overseen every renovation and improvement, making sure that above-ground levels of the opera house gave us just as much as an advantage as the lower levels that tunneled outward into the five boroughs.

  “Of course you were,” she muttered as we climbed the stairs that would lead us to the kitchen.

  “Stay in the shadows,” I reminded her.

  “Yeah, yeah. We’ve gone over the plan about a million times,” she grumbled.

  We entered into the bustling kitchen, and I nodded at Javier, who manned the stove. His demon horns rose high on his forehead, but none of the staff noticed…because no one could see them, not even Valor. Demons had been gifted with permanent glamours, which allowed them to interact with humans just like witches—undetected. Only supernaturals could see through the magic that kept their features hidden.

  Javier barked orders at his sous chefs, then came our way.

  “They’re all out on the terrace,” he told me quietly. “Take the southern stairs. Julie is on guard.”

  “Thank you,” I said, taking Valor’s hand in mine when Javier’s eyes roamed the line of her body. “You’ve met my mate, Valor?”

  He blinked rapidly and stepped back, his eyes flashing gold. “I meant no offense. Please forgive me.”

  I nodded and led Valor toward the southern stairs, checking to see that they were truly empty before tugging her through the doorway.

  “What the hell was that about?” she asked, slipping her hand from mine in favor of the railing.

  “He wanted to live through the night,” I answered simply as we climbed side by side.

  “Because you were going to kill him for what? Looking at me? Please.” She rolled her eyes.

  I took in the fitted bodice of her dress and the asymmetrical hem that reached her knees in the back, but rose high in the front to showcase a pair of shorts. Fuck, her legs looked incredible in those heels, and her hair was up, leaving that delicious neck bare for my bite—

  Stop.

  “Yes. There’s a chance I would kill him for looking at you,” I admitted quietly as we turned the corner to ascend the next flight.

  “Even you aren’t that barbaric.”

  We reached the heavy, wooden door that led to the terrace, and I spun her quickly, pinning her against the structure. “I am,” I growled, splaying my hands over her wrists above her head.

  “Lachlan,” she whispered, but it wasn’t in fear. The sweet scent of her arousal filled my head.

  “I am not a man, Valor. Do not fool yourself. Sure, we’re civilized to a point, but when it comes down to it, vampires are predators and the Order? We’re the apex. There is nothing in this world more dangerous than a mated vampire except a male who hasn’t claimed his mate. Would I intentionally kill Javier? No. Could it happen before I managed to stop myself? Absolutely.”

  Her breasts rose and fell against my chest quickly, but she held my gaze. “I trust you.”

  A wry smile twisted my lips. “You’re the only person in the world I wouldn’t harm, Valor. Everyone else is fair game, especially until w
e get far enough away from each other for the intensity of the bond to fade.” I dropped her wrists and stepped back, giving her room to move away from the door.

  “Just the intensity?” Her forehead puckered. “The whole thing will vanish after it gets the hint that we’re not acting on it, right?”

  “I wish.” I gripped the door handle and put myself between Valor and whatever was on the other side. “It will never entirely fade. There will always be a pull…a need between us.”

  Her jaw dropped, and her breath rushed out.

  “Let’s go,” I said, pulling the door open a fraction and nodding to Julie, who had immediately pulled a nine-millimeter on me. “Good to see you, Jules.”

  “Lachlan.” The demon smiled, revealing even, white teeth. “Coast is clear.”

  I led Valor onto the open-air terrace that wrapped around the southern half of the opera house. The lights had already been dimmed with the exception of the buffet tables in the distance. Good.

  “Thanks. We’re looking for a teenager. Strawberry blonde hair, pale green eyes.” My eyes adjusted to the dark, but there were only a few humans within eyesight, given that the terrace curved with the circular building.

  “I’ve been stationed at the door all night.” She glanced down my frame, her eyebrows rising in appreciation. “Looking good.”

  Valor inserted herself between us and cocked her head to the side as she thrust her hand forward. “Hi. I’m Valor, his mate. Nice to meet you, Julie.”

  Julie shook Valor’s hand and nodded slowly, pressing her lips together, but managing not to laugh. “So, I see. Have a good time, you two.”

  Valor flashed a smile at me and held out her hands. “Shall we?”

  “Now who’s getting territorial?” I challenged with a laugh, bringing her to the edge of the terrace, where the light was lowest.

  What would she look like with fangs? Don’t even go there. Valor hated vampires. There was no way in hell she’d consider becoming one.

  Not that I wanted her to.

  But the thought of her aging…dying…that was a blow to the chest.