by RJ Blain
The hum of the electric plant above the train station gave me a headache. Mystics in need of work fed their power to the lines, generating the electricity the city needed to function.
My first stop would be at a clothing store. In Charlotte, appearances mattered. Worn jeans and a road-stained blouse closed doors. No one knew me as the Water Viper, although the city had seen my mark before. They knew me as Jesse Alexander, a quiet sell sword and bodyguard who hid a lot of weapons under her skirt.
One day, someone would notice the Water Viper only appeared when I was in the city. It was the game all assassins played.
Someone wanted someone dead.
Someone like me picked up the job.
Then I killed them, taking a life with a set value, quantified into dollars and cents. Death didn’t always come quickly, but it came. I preferred to inflict a painless death, sneaking up on my victim in the night. While my toxins stole away their lives, I watched and waited.
Few realized they were dying before death crept up on them in their sleep. It was then, at rest in their beds, I tattooed my mark into their cooling skin.
Some called me ethical and far more merciful than my victims deserved. Others believed worse things of me.
I had designed my mark to reflect my desire to stamp out treachery, swift and vicious like a water moccasin, but fatal, unlike the freshwater snake that menaced those who ventured too close to the river’s shore. The people believed I took my name from a sea snake with a gentle but lethal bite.
One day, I might correct them, but for the moment, their misinterpretation served me. No other assassin I knew of boasted a merciful reputation.
No one understood I gave my victims the death I wanted, in my sleep, in a bed belonging to me. It wouldn’t happen, not for someone like me, but I longed for it anyway. When my victims took someone to their bed, I took them unawares, sedating them so they would not witness their lover’s death, although they woke beside a corpse.
Sometimes, I even felt guilt and remorse for what I did. Not often, but sometimes.
I headed into the city to, for the third time in my life, make it my home.
I chose a dress instead of a skirt because its slitted sides allowed me to move while the top clung to my chest without restricting my ability to breathe, and I liked the color. I doubted the bright, yellow fabric did me any favors, but the crimson Chinese dragon coiling over my breasts up to my shoulder and down my back gifted me with a sense of invulnerability.
It also helped bring out the faint hint of gold in my otherwise dull, brown hair.
Sometimes sacrifices had to be made. My attire didn’t leave me a lot of places to hide the new stash of weapons I purchased along with the dress, so I wore them openly. Knives decorated my thighs, bound to my leg with black leather straps and matching sheaths. I wore my blade with pride, and I covered my sword belt with a golden sash to do my dress a little justice.
Underneath the sash, I had a lot of little pouches tied to my belt, and in one of them, the Starfall stone pulsed like a beating heart, waiting for its moment to burst and drown everyone around it in magic.
I really needed to get rid of the damned thing.
I abandoned my heeled boots for golden slippers with leather soles. When I needed to fight, I would be able to.
If I did my job right, I wouldn’t have to.
Because I liked the dress, I doubted it would last long. They rarely did. I shouldn’t have spent a hundred dollars on it, but I had. At least when I showed up to my first mercenary guild of choice, the Lancers’ Alliance, I’d draw the attention of just about everyone.
Smart assassins never drew attention to themselves, which was why I did it. People liked believing in the evidence of their eyes. Their eyes told them I was a woman, and when I wore a dress worth more than five dollars, I sometimes even passed as a pretty one. My sword informed them I was a mercenary.
Thus, I delegated myself to the role of a bodyguard for events where appearances mattered, which paid well enough. My choice of public jobs also played into my status as a sell sword with a preference for protecting people.
I strengthened the facade by presenting the open, honest, and good-natured part of me, the farce I lived to convince everyone I wouldn’t poison people and mutilate their bodies with a tattoo, which I used to inform the authorities I had been paid to kill someone.
The police really hated when I left them with no evidence, which was why I offered my services to them right after I cycled my way through the mercenary and freelance guilds, who were looking for a few extra swords to fill their ranks on a temporary basis.
No one liked believing an assassin would boldly walk among them. If I presented enough evidence I couldn’t be anything other than a regular mercenary, those hunting the Water Viper searched elsewhere.
I took a lot of risks with the way I operated, but it had worked so far. Lifting my chin and resting my hand on the hilt of my sword, I focused on my destination.
The Lancers’ Alliance never failed to amuse me. Someone—its guild leader, Todd Jacobson—had had the bright idea to convert the building into a rustic, bright red barn easily spotted from a quarter mile away, its roof towering several stories over its neighbors.
Not a single one of the mercenaries I’d met through the guild used a lance or rode a horse. Some of them became horses, but no one was dumb enough to suggest they should be ridden into battle.
The only type of riding they liked doing involved a bed and a woman, and I wasn’t dumb enough to screw around with an equine shifter male. Maybe belonging to a harem herd of pretty ladies appealed to some, but I had no interest in competing for the herd’s single breeding male.
If I ever decided to settle down, I had no intentions of sharing my man with anyone.
At least my preferences in men made it easy to eliminate a lot of species from my beast’s hidden identity, although it didn’t narrow the playing field enough for my liking. A lot of animals mated for life, and I wondered which one I’d become if I lived long enough. My thoughts amused me for the rest of the walk to the mercenary guild.
Chapter Three
Gold leafing and marble decorated the entry of the Lancers’ Alliance. A statue of a rearing stallion, its mane waving in an unfelt wind, dominated the center of the room. Ruby eyes glittered in the mystic lights floating overhead. The lack of a mounted knight or a lance amused me and fit well with the guild’s members.
I didn’t recognize the young woman behind the reception desk. Her gaze followed me when I strolled across the room to the massive cork board cluttered with scraps of paper. Hundreds of unclaimed jobs waited for me, the number so high my brows rose. On a good day, the guild had ten or twenty.
“Did everyone go on vacation?” My voice echoed in the room, and I shivered at the sense of emptiness within the guild.
“They’re working. I don’t know you.”
“Jesse Alexander. Non-affiliated,” I offered, turning my attention to the board and the many jobs waiting to be claimed.
“Reference?”
Great. I was dealing with a green recruit, the kind unable to keep their nose out of my business. No matter how I handled her, I’d piss her or her sponsor off. “Tell Todd he can shove his reference up his ass.”
The Lancers’ Alliance guild leader would enjoy fighting with me over the insult, and I’d savor smacking the stallion down. With my luck, the shifter male had probably been the one to pose for the statue blocking foot traffic in his big red barn.
The receptionist rose to her feet, her large, dark eyes widening. “Excuse me?”
I flipped through a stack of requests nailed to the board, frowning at the duplicated requests for guards at an upcoming banquet. A few sheets had been ripped from the top, and I thumbed through the scraps. With well over twenty guards still desired and twelve having already claimed spots, the host of the shindig expected trouble and a lot of it. “Todd can take his reference and shove it up his ass.”
Its loc
ation, close to the train station, meant the Lancers’ Alliance benefited from access to electricity and magic. The receptionist stabbed her finger on the intercom button behind her. “Sir, there’s a belligerent freelancer without a reference here I need someone to remove.”
The girl deserved some credit; she lifted her finger from the button before I could add in a jab. Chuckling, I continued searching through the posted jobs for well-paying work so I could secure a decent flop.
It didn’t take long for a pair of the guild’s guards to slam their way through the doors behind the reception, and in their wake, Todd followed. Like every other equine shifter I’d ever met, the Lancers’ Alliance guild master was lean with just enough muscle to promise a world of hurt to anyone stupid enough to get into a physical confrontation with him.
Some days, Todd left his long, black mane down, but he had it tied up in a high tail, an indication to all of his mares he was looking to add a few extra foals to his herd.
“There she is,” the receptionist blurted, pointing at me.
Both guards, young men and new recruits since I’d last been to the guild, turned to Todd for guidance. The guild master held his hand up, his brown eyes roaming over me. “What happened?”
“I told her you could stuff your reference up your ass, Todd. She didn’t like it.”
Todd relaxed and laughed. “You could shove it up my ass for me. We could make a night of it.”
“In your dreams, Todd.”
“What if I said please?”
I shook my head and went back to leafing through job requests. Stallions. Give an inch, they’d take a mile, and then beg for more. The rougher it got, the more they liked it. Unless I got lucky, I’d be beating off his advances for at least a week—or until a prettier mare pranced in front of him. “In your dreams, maybe.”
“Almost every night.”
The doe-eyed receptionist spluttered. “Sir?”
“Shh, Melody. I’m trying to get Jesse to join my herd. She’d easily become one of my lead mares. Just look at her. Think of all the beautiful foals we’d make together.”
I groaned at my foul luck. “Your mares are in season, aren’t they?” Why me? Why couldn’t I have returned to Charlotte in the late fall or winter, when the equines weren’t driven to produce as many foals as possible?
Oh, right. I had taken a Starfall stone and sedated a handsome shifter male, challenging him to hunt me down. If he tracked me to Charlotte, I’d be in a lot of trouble, especially if he started blurting out he was after the Water Viper. I’d made three big hits in the city, and they’d earned me a certain level of infamy.
My first hit had earned me a good reputation as an assassin. No one had liked the city’s former mystic mayor, myself included. After he raped several shifter virgins, binding them to him for life, every shifter guild and alliance called for the man’s death to free the women from him.
His bounty had bagged a hundred thousand, and I had only taken fifty dollars to cover expenses, leaving the the rest for the man’s victims. The predatory police shifters turned a blind eye, leaving the mayor’s loyal mystics scrambling to locate me.
In my opinion, my other two big hits had lost me all the good will killing the mayor had earned me. The murder of my first guild leader ensured every mercenary wanted my head on a silver platter. When I had killed my second, my status had risen to kill on sight, no questions asked.
It didn’t matter both men had been as vile as they came.
“What does that have to do with anything, Jesse? I’d banner my tail for you even in deep winter.”
“Not interested, Todd.”
“Come on, Jesse. I’d even wear a condom for you. You’ll like it so much you’ll want a second ride and join my herd, I promise.”
Both of my brows inched upwards. Todd’s guards gaped. The receptionist’s cheeks turned bright red.
“Sorry, Todd. I prefer my dalliances one night only with no strings attached.”
“I’d wear a condom!”
Stallions. I shook my head, prayed for patience, and tapped my knuckles against the thick stack of guard requests. “What’s with the party?”
“Back to work,” Todd ordered before joining me at the cork board. “Going to take my hand off if I touch?”
“Yes.”
“You’re so cruel, Jesse.”
“I’m sure one of your mares will appreciate your sexual frustration tonight. The party, Todd?”
“Mayor Longfellow’s daughter is getting married. He’s turning it into a courtship banquet for shifters, as his daughter’s marrying a lion.”
“She’s joining a pride?”
“As his equal. The lion did Longfellow a favor, and he asked for the right to court his daughter. It was granted. They hit it off, but she’s a Siberian tiger. Life or nothing for them. She agreed to share, but only if she led the pride at his side. He agreed, so here we are. A lion and a tigress are tying the knot.”
That explained his hairdo. “You’re going to try to expand your herd, aren’t you?”
“I’m Charlotte’s premier stud. Of course I’m trying to expand my herd. Offer’s open, Jesse. Come take me for a ride.”
“Keep dreaming, Todd. Any leads on a flop in the area?”
“Stay with me. In my bed.”
“You need sedated. Do you have any leads on good flops or not?”
“I could rent you a room at my place. Give you a fair price. Five hundred a month, no strings attached, unless you want. I’ll even get an entire box of condoms just for you if you get lonely at night.”
I banged my head against the cork board. For Charlotte, the rate was better than good. I doubted I could get cheaper, and even if I did, it’d be a lot less safe than staying at Todd’s place. If I had to work as the Water Viper, Todd’s defenses didn’t concern me too much. Equines liked to fight over their territory, and ward magics didn’t appeal to their straight-forward nature. “How much for the room?”
“I already said five hundred a month.”
“I just wanted to make sure I heard you right the first time. If you strut into my room, you’ll need a mystic to reattach your dick. If you’re lucky, I’ll leave you capable of siring foals.”
Todd grimaced. “I like my mares willing. I’ll make sure to knock first and offer a proper invitation.”
“I’m going to regret this,” I predicted in a mutter. “Risk rating on the courting banquet?”
“I’m attending as a guest. I’ll hire you as my personal guard and escort at double the proposed rate. The mayor asked me to keep interactions peaceful between rival clans. We’re expecting thirty-three different clan leaders in attendance and representatives from fifteen other clans. It will be a five day affair. Some guests will be staying at the palace. You’ll be expected to share my suite with me as my companion.” The guild’s leader leaned towards me and whispered in my ear, “I will also be providing your wardrobe for this event, as you will be a representative of my herd.”
“Honorary membership, I presume?”
Todd scowled, but he sighed and nodded. “Honorary. Throw me a bone here, Jesse. I’ve been trying to lure you into my bed for over a year. Have some pity on me. I can’t help it you’re so damned pretty.”
Unless I at least pretended I’d think about it, he wouldn’t leave me alone. I’d set him straight at his house with the appropriate amount of force to make him think twice about pulling another stunt with me. “Fine. I’ll think about it. First, I get to keep the clothes. Second, you supply the weapons to match my outfits. Third, you make them the best money can buy. Fourth, they don’t count against my fee. Make it good or go home crying, Todd.”
“You’re such a mercenary. Very well. Tonight, you’ll be fitted for the banquet. I’ll pay to keep you at my call until the job begins. Deal?”
The job would earn me good favor with the Lancers’ Alliance, which in turn would lead me to better jobs later. The banquet fit the profile I wanted to present. Refusing the job wou
ld be foolish. I sighed. “Standard daily fee?”
“Yes.”
“Very well. When can I take the room?”
“Tonight.” The stallion smirked and leaned towards me. “And you’ll get a special discount on your rent for each night you warm my bed. Fresh back in the city, I take it?”
“You’re in my personal space, Todd.”
He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound, and stepped out of my sword’s reach. “Why’d you come back?”
“Got tired of being on vacation.”
Todd narrowed his eyes, gave me a nod to acknowledge me, and turned to his receptionist. “Melody, I’m going home for the day. If it’s important, send them to the house.”
If looks could kill, the blond behind the desk would’ve incinerated me on the spot. “Yes, sir.”
Charlotte’s lead stallion stepped back into my personal space and pressed his hand to the middle of my back in a silent claim, warning everyone he wouldn’t tolerate a rivalry between me and his jealous guild member. If I’d been an actual mare or a true member of his herd, his gesture would have raised my standing, something I definitely didn’t want. Without fail, there would be misunderstandings until I had a chance to remind Todd I wasn’t one of his mares he could browbeat into doing what he wanted.
Unlike the tigress’s lion, Todd wouldn’t dedicate to a single mare instead of his herd, and if I ever did settle down, I wouldn’t accept my man with another woman. With a little luck, it wouldn’t take the stallion long to figure out I wasn’t a good choice for him and he wasn’t a good choice for me.
It wouldn’t stop me from thinking about his offer, although I wouldn’t take him up on it. He probably would tempt me into a second ride, and I’d regret it for the rest of my life. If he sank his teeth into me, he wouldn’t let me go.
Jealous stallions didn’t release their mares without a fight unless a stronger stallion came along. Some trouble I truly didn’t need, and Todd’s sort topped my list.
Exhaustion nipped at my heels, but I kept pace with Todd the entire two miles to his house. On his own, he would have shifted at the guild and galloped home. It’d take a miracle—or dire circumstances—for him to offer a ride to anyone. Hell would freeze over first, and hiring a carriage pulled by real horses would only insult him.
