by Gaja J. Kos
Before the thought even fully unfurled through my mind, Reiner lashed out again. Aware of the amulet just one fucking pocket away from me, I edged for an opening to snatch it—which was easier said than done, since I had to be careful not to break the fucking thing in the process.
I ducked under Reiner’s fist, blocked his next shot, and moved in. Only Reiner matched my speed.
As my injuries stitched together, new ones bloomed across my flesh. The air grew heavy with the coppery scent of my blood, Reiner’s arousal becoming stronger by the second.
I wasn’t entirely sure whether he wanted to fuck me or kill me, though judging by the way he kept slipping past my defenses, it was safe to say he wouldn’t mind seeing me at least half dead. Lovely.
He laughed when my demon fire licked at his skin at a safe distance from the amulet.
Though I was starting to consider that burning the fucking thing might not be so bad after all.
An angry, red welt spread over the length of Reiner’s muscular arm, only the injury was superficial at best. Shit. He’d warded himself somehow.
Maybe through the same warlocks Lebar used for his own needs, or maybe he’d greased someone else’s palm. But the job was definitely thorough.
Unless I wanted to spend every last ounce of my power, there was no fucking way I was getting through.
Pissed, I jabbed the mini dagger in his groin when he leaped at me.
I missed by an inch.
Reiner pulled the piece out, more amused than anything else, then sprang into action again. He rammed me against the wall and sank his still-human teeth into my neck. I kneed him, but he blocked the blow with his hand, though the distinct crunch of his fingers was still fucking music to my ears.
The floor beneath us shook and wedged a slip of space between us. I used the opening to pry him off my neck, then kicked his feet from beneath him.
Reiner yanked me down as he fell.
We rolled across the ground, overthrowing the displays and destroying the numerous artifacts they’d contained. The thief in me winced at the loss.
The assassin, however, saw nothing but opportunity.
I snatched a mean-looking shard of glass nearly as long as my forearm. Blue fire licked down its sides as I swiped it across Reiner’s chest. He angled his torso back, but not fast enough. A thin slice of blood manifested, the demon fire eating at his clothes and exposing more burnt flesh.
It gave me an idea.
As I skirted around the shards littering the ground, I concentrated on drawing my power into sharp, needle-like structures. Reiner’s shields were good, excellent even, but they weren’t strong enough to withstand extremely concentrated attacks.
We exchanged blow after blow as I maneuvered him into a position in which he would be most vulnerable. My power screamed to be released, but just as I hurtled it towards him, not just the ground, but the entire fucking building shook.
My aim went wide.
Grunting, I tried again, but the next wave of tremors sent me careening into the wall. A crack shot diagonally across the floor, obliterating the room’s previously impeccable isolation. My lungs filled with a violent clash of magic, every inch of my skin crawling with a foreboding sensation I couldn’t ignore.
I was running out of time.
Fast.
Whatever turn the fight below had taken, it was eroding the manor’s foundations.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
I’d known it had been magic—ancient, chaotic magic—that wrecked most cities during the War. But I hadn’t even considered ours could do the job just the same if concentrated within a single area. Fuck. The entire building was going to come down on me if I didn’t end this and get my ass out of here soon.
Pushing myself off the wall, I lunged for Reiner. But the bastard was ready. He must have picked up one of the artifacts while I’d been busy processing the sheer force of the destruction, because that very same, very heavy artifact collided with the side of my head.
Reiner’s wild grin was the last thing I saw before I crashed.
Chapter 28
Fat droplets pelted down on my face, my body. They broke apart when they hit and filled my lungs with dust.
I coughed, then forced my aching body on all fours.
Not rain.
The downpour was actually bits of fucking plaster that coated the cracked ground and messed up the already unbreathable air. Smoke filtered through from beneath, the presence of magic thick enough to make my skin crawl.
Out. I had to get out.
Muscles whined in protest as I pulled myself up. The wound on the side of my head wept blood, and I was fairly certain I had a nice little concussion going on, but all that had to wait. I could pass out all I wanted once there wasn’t an entire building threatening to stick me into a ramshackle, premature grave. Scooping up my magic, I blasted myself into particles.
Every instinct still alive and kicking in my pain-ridden brain urged me to slip through the hallway window where the breeze whispered of freedom. Damn shame my stubbornness won.
Instead of hightailing it from the manor like a wise person, I went deeper into its bowels. Nothing but debris, fire, and death greeted me as I propelled myself through the corridors, then finally did a sweep of the main hall.
Nothing.
No signs of life. Of Reiner.
Which meant no amulet.
Fuck.
One of the pillars collapsed and took a massive chunk of the gallery with it. Plaster and iron scattered my atoms.
I ground my nonexistent teeth, wondering just how much damage I could take before it would reflect on my corporeal form—or keep me from piecing myself back together entirely. Not a pleasing prospect.
Just as I drove through the fucking cloud of dust, the roof groaned.
Then gave in.
The gust of filthy wind hurtled me into the night. I rode the current, not because I wanted to but because I had no other choice. I was too weak to go against it—and I had to conserve my strength.
No survivors.
That was a long-lost dream with Reiner gone, but I needed to make sure no one else slipped through the cracks. Breccan had too much at stake for me to do anything less than give my best to cauterize as many loose ends as possible.
First, however, I had to track the fucks.
With some effort, I regained corporeal form on the far side of the building once the current released me from its clutches. Burning cars dominated the parking lot, and the other two sides of the estate had trees far too close for comfort to the quickly spreading embers. Out here, at least, I had some room.
As well as the cover of darkness working to my advantage.
I planted my feet more firmly on the cool grass and focused on the land just beyond the fire’s reach. No shapes moved through the destruction. But that didn’t mean they weren’t there.
Inhaling—and nearly doubling over from the pain—I cast as much power as I dared in a wide net, scanning for any activity. An area flared to life just on my left.
I extracted the final blade from my bracelet.
I still couldn’t see the figure thanks to the blazing backdrop of flames, but my magic revealed it was man-shaped and…human.
Whatever power cloaked them from sight was seriously heavy-duty. Actually, the only thing I could think of that packed such a punch were the rare glamor stones that easily cost upwards of five hundred mil on the black market.
Homing in on the man’s location, I sank my feet deeper into the soil and readied the dagger.
Pain ripped through my shoulder.
A fucking bullet.
I ducked for cover behind some low shrubs, then erected a wall of demon fire between me and the shooter. The blue shone as brightly as a fucking lighthouse in the dark, but it really didn’t matter if I advertised my location.
The aching burn spreading through my shoulder was proof enough of that.
As a continuous string of curses flowed through my mind and honed
my anger into something lethal, I transferred the dagger into my still usable hand. The shooter’s energy signature was weak with the blue embers causing interference, but I still had a lock on it—right on the verge of my range.
And getting closer.
I counted down the seconds in my head, then dispelled the fire and sent the blade flying.
A familiar body materialized seemingly out of nowhere, the magic broken as the man’s life winked away.
I hobbled around the shrubs. While I wanted nothing more than to spirit myself to the nearest bed and cup of Irish coffee, it would be a shame to leave the glamor stone behind. My gaze set on the prone form, I lifted my foot to step over a rock—and took a nosedive into the grass instead.
At the last moment, I rolled to the side to ease the impact. Too little, too late. The bullet hole in my shoulder flared to life with a vengeance.
Clutching the arm to keep it as immobile as I could, I lay there, maybe a touch more bitter than I cared to admit, and tapped into the dormant presence nestled in my chest. I yanked the ethereal cord like a damn dinner bell.
“Got the sonovabitch for you,” I drawled hoarsely and motioned to the unequivocally dead David Lebar, my tiny blade protruding from his worthless chest.
Breccan looked at the corpse, then back at me. And filled the night with laughter.
Chapter 29
If sex was all that counted in life, I’d be a winner.
As it was, the loss of Reiner and the amulet left a bitter aftertaste in my mouth no amount of Breccan or Irish coffee could erase. And that said a lot.
With a few more minutes to spare before I was to meet the demon lord in his chambers, I lounged in bed, sprawled on my stomach. The invitation had sounded almost official, and I might have dwelled on what it meant if it weren’t for all the other shit running through my head.
Like a rookie, I avoided contacting my employers. Though it was only a matter of time before I had to explain to the witches that an assassin had booked it with their amulet. The encounter, I suspected, would not be a pleasant one.
But I was determined to track Reiner down.
Even if the coven cancelled my payment, I wasn’t about to let the asshole have an object of power in his possession. Actually, I wasn’t about to let him breathe for much longer, either.
With that, I rolled off the bed and got dressed. Most of my clothes were still at my apartment, so I ended up in one of the outfits more suited for murder than dinner. I didn’t think Breccan would mind.
I passed Arista on my short trip across the corridor to his chambers, the fiery-haired demon as alert as always. She inclined her head in acknowledgment of my presence, though her face remained devoid of any emotion. Professional to a T. Once again, I couldn’t help the silent wave of respect that flooded me as I watched her monitor the silent halls of the manor. Arista seemed like she could be a major pain in the ass when she wanted to, but she was flawless at what she did.
There was a lot that simply how someone carried themselves revealed about a person. The attention they devoted to what looked like menial tasks at a glance.
Sure, everyone liked a good fighter in their corner. But it was whether said fighter remained sharp even when there were no enemies in sight that truly counted. And Arista… She was about as sharp as they came.
I crossed behind her and approached Breccan’s door.
Although I’d never admit it out loud, I kind of wondered what it would be like to spar with his second-in-command. Actually, for the most part, I wondered how quickly she’d break me like a fledgling. If Breccan had been her mentor, maybe I could convince him to share a few pointers.
Given that, while not easily, a mere werewolf had beaten me just because I didn’t have the full range of my powers to fall back on, I clearly needed to up my game.
As soon as I crossed the threshold, Breccan’s voice rang out. “In here.”
I followed the sound not to the dining room as I’d expected, but the bathroom—if something as big as my apartment in Ljubljana could even be called a mere bathroom.
His power beckoned me on, but as soon as I lay my eyes on just what waited for me—besides the demon lord—I stopped right underneath the archway, taking it all in.
Plates of chocolate-dipped strawberries occupied the edge of the indoor pool that took up most of the left-hand side, as well as a bottle of red wine with two stemmed glasses, and—I chuckled—a steaming mug of Irish coffee. The demon himself rested in one of the lounge chairs dominating the otherwise empty space between the pool and the ornate iron separator that kept the more functional part of the bathroom from sight.
Desire stirred as my gaze skimmed the flat, chiseled expanse of his abdomen down to the white towel sitting low on his hips. It hit him mid-thigh, but failed to conceal the twitch of his cock when he took me in.
Taking the cue, I kicked off my shoes and started to undress.
“What’s this about?” I dropped the shirt on the tiled floor.
“I have some good news.”
“Oh?” I pushed the tight fabric of my pants over my hips, lifting my ass up in the air as I bent down to liberate my legs.
The bulge under Breccan’s towel became more prominent and nearly undid the entire thing. Fucking delicious.
Keeping my matching dark lace bra and panties on, I moved forward. My nipples perked as the blend of hot and cool currents played with my body. Or maybe that was just Breccan, the weight of his gaze dipping between my legs before carving its way back to my face.
A half smile flirted with his lips. “You have your freedom, Crina.”
I halted mid-step. Breccan’s gaze, while still imbued with hunger, possessed a light edge of amusement.
My confusion apparently entertained my liege.
If I ever wanted a career change, maybe I could look into being a court jester…
“This is the part where a kind liege would explain what the fuck they mean,” I said, though the words failed to deliver the bite I was hoping for.
“Yelena agreed to respect your decision to switch courts,” Breccan replied, his expression still smug. “She won’t retaliate. And she knows that if she comes after you, she will have the entirety of my court on her hands.”
“Does that mean—”
“You can return to the mortal world when you please.”
I ran over and jumped on top of him. The lounge chair groaned, but I couldn’t care less even if we ended up on the damn tiles. I just kissed his smug face until I was fairly certain my lips had started to bruise, then cupped his cheeks with both hands.
I leaned back to meet his mismatched eyes. “Thank you.”
Breccan trailed his fingers through my curls, his lips pulled up in a smile. “I promised I would protect you. And while you know you always have a place here, I understand how much your life in the mortal world means to you. Know that I would do everything in my power to keep you from losing that. As you have done for me.”
At a loss for words, I just kissed him again. And kept kissing him until the press of his erection was too much to bear.
Chuckling, I climbed off and stripped down to bare skin. Now for that damned towel.
I yanked Breccan up and relieved him of the oppressive weight. His cock sprang free.
Shamelessly admiring his length, I led him into the water. My legs hooked around his waist the instant his feet hit the bottom.
Breccan laughed, then swiftly untangled me from around him and thrust me against the side of the pool. His cock teased my ass, my folds, coaxing a low groan of frustration from me when he didn’t give me what I burned for.
Whispers of calluses teased my nipples as his hands massaged my breasts. I arched back into him, and as he dipped his mouth to my neck, he thrust inside me.
I moaned, my body attuned to every thick inch of his glorious cock.
With a low, dangerous chuckle, Breccan dropped one of his hands to tease my clit, while his hips set a demanding rhythm. It wasn’t long unt
il he tipped me over the edge—and held me there, my orgasm extending into a blur of pleasure until he joined me with a deafening roar.
Best. Fucking. Liege. Ever.
Chapter 30
With my feet propped on the counter and my eyes closed, I let the throwing knife fly from my hand.
The dull thunk alerted me the blade had found its target.
I peered up, noting it was, indeed, lodged in the thin strip of wood between the door and the window overlooking the uncharacteristically calm street. I snatched another knife from the long row I had spread on the leather-cushioned wheeled tray table beside me, then repeated the exercise.
Exhaling, I focused on nothing but the feel of the metal in my hand, the way its weight was balanced—a perfect specimen of its kind. I let it soar.
A yelp broke the silence.
My eyes flew open. An older man stood in the doorway, eyes wide and the dark blade mere inches from his head. Whoops.
He looked like he was caught somewhere between yelling, crying, and throwing up.
To make things easier for him, I snarled, “Didn’t you see the sign that we’re closed?”
“And that, what, makes throwing blades at the door all right?” His chest puffed up as he strode over, apparently recovered enough to want to give me an earful. “It wasn’t even locked!”
I arched an eyebrow and swung my feet off the counter. “Had the sign on, didn’t I?”
“You—” A laugh rose from his chest, though it was a bit on the shaky side. “Nice tactic. Thank you, for provoking my temper.”
“You’re welcome.” I smiled, then finally took a good look at my visitor.
Tall and dressed in a crisp suit that screamed lawyer, with salt-and-pepper hair brushed back to reveal a handsome face. Human face.
No wonder I freaked him the fuck out.
“What can I do for you?” I asked as I rose from my chair.
“I’m Donovan Mast.” His gaze briefly dropped to the tray of knives. I casually rolled it a bit farther aside. “From Mast and Sims Law Firm.”
