Last Kiss Goodnight (Otherworld Assassin)

by Gena Showalter

  Temporary tattoos, then. Though he’d never seen any that looked so real. He finished his study of her. Her middle was utterly bare. A pair of black panties covered her essentials, and a pair of fishnet stockings clung to her legs, though they were only visible to her knees. High-heeled boots looked painted to her lower calves and feet. A peacock tail rose from behind her, fanning up and out.

  Her slick of dark, pink-striped hair was pinned into a bun, and her makeup was so thick and wild she almost appeared inhuman. Her eyes did appear inhuman. Contacts dusted the green with glitter. Her lashes were the color of the feathers, blue and green and black, fanning out over her brows and temples.

  “Still have nothing to say to me?” she asked, and sucked a lollipop into her mouth.

  One of the spiders popped its legs from her skin and walked down her arm.

  No way. Just no way. Had to be the drugs, messing with his mind. He had to be hallucinating. “What would you like me to say?”

  Lick. A slow, sensuous grin curled the corners of her lips, and she hummed her approval. “Why don’t you start with how beautiful I am?” Liiick.

  She was beautiful, there was no denying that, but Solo knew better than most how deceptive appearances could be. He’d never been one to judge by exterior.

  The one and only girl he’d dated had lived on the farm next door to his. Plain but sweet Abigail, whom X had liked but hadn’t wanted him to date and whom Dr. E had despised and had wanted him to bury in his backyard. Abigail was the first and only girl to ever want the man and not the monster. He’d picked her up every time she’d had too much to drink, protected her any time she traveled into the city at night, and helped her climb through her bedroom window whenever she’d snuck out. She’d kissed him a thousand times, said a thousand thank-yous, but had never given him anything more. Despite that, she had genuinely seemed to care for him—but only ever when they were alone.

  One day, indignation had gotten the better of him and he’d given her a choice. Take all of him, all the time, in front of everyone, or have none of him. She had cried, she had begged him to remain in her life, but in the end she had been unwilling to change and so he had walked away.

  He had never looked back.

  Vika, he would think about forever, he suspected. His attraction to her scorched deeply, inexorably, and not just because she was exquisite, the loveliest female he’d ever beheld. Again, looks mattered little to him and he would have liked her if she’d been as ugly as, well, an Allorian. It was the way she’d treated him. As if he mattered.

  What was he going to do with that girl?

  He couldn’t troubleshoot with Dr. E and X—not that he was on speaking terms with either. Both males had abandoned him during the whipping and had only returned in quick snatches, vanishing the moment he opened his mouth.

  “Well?” Audra demanded.

  “I will not say any such thing,” he announced.

  She straightened, her grin morphing into a scowl. “I have seen you transform into the ugliest beast alive, and yet you think you’re better than me. Well, I’ll put you in your place,” she said softly, fiercely, “right underneath me.”

  She held out her arm, and the spider actually leapt from her skin and onto one of the bars of the cage. Okay, there was no way that was a hallucination. Eight legs crawled across the metal, tap, tap, tapping as the spider—

  Hinges squeaked as the door to Jecis’s trailer opened. The male stepped into the light of day. Audra inhaled sharply, and the spider jumped back onto her arm.

  Some kind of dark power was at work within the girl. Now that he concentrated, Solo could feel the crackle of it in the air. It was the same crackle Jecis and Matas emitted, only at a slighter degree. He would have to remain on guard around her.

  Frowning, Jecis scanned the area. He spied Audra, and his frown intensified. He stomped toward the cage.

  “What you are doing?” he demanded.

  As Audra pasted a seductive smile on her face and wove a lie about Solo calling her over and asking her for food, Solo performed a scan of the area himself. Tent after tent, other trailers, but no hint of Vika.

  A rock slammed into his left shoulder, and he glanced down, watching as jagged silver rolled to the floor of his cage.

  “Are you listening to me? I said do not dare to speak to my woman again,” Jecis snarled. He curled his fingers around the bars and shook the entire wagon. “You got me? Otherwise I will kill you and send whatever’s left over to your family.”

  Solo raised his lashes and met the man’s gaze. He kept his expression blank, refusing to give any kind of reaction. One day I will escape. One day I will end your reign of terror. “Sorry, but I don’t have a family.”

  After a long, flustered moment, Jecis said, “Your friends, then.”

  “What makes you think a man like me has friends?”

  Jecis ran his tongue over his teeth. “Then we’ll let the dogs have you. If they will. They like their meat tender, and you look rotten.”

  Solo just stared.

  “Speaking of food,” Jecis gritted out, “you have been eating, haven’t you, Beast Man, despite asking my female for a morsel? Your color is too good for a starving man. Who’s been feeding you? My sweet little Vika?”

  “Probably,” Audra said. She traced the lollipop over her lips. “I saw her running this way last night.”

  “Because her trailer is beside mine, you stupid whore.”

  Audra flinched. “O-of course.”

  Not so brave in the light of day, and he could guess why. Jecis would tolerate her temper when they were alone and there were no witnesses. But the man would not be so lenient in front of others, when every challenge to his authority would have to be defused in the most violent way possible to stop others from thinking to rise against him.

  More than that, Solo knew his type. Knew Audra’s type, too. Jecis was used to everyone bowing and scraping. Audra wanted to be something different, someone capable of holding such a “strong” man’s attention. So she acted out. In the end, however, Jecis would tire of her and she would pay for every one of her perceived crimes. A man like Jecis never forgot a wrong.

  A man like Jecis—yet Solo was the same way.

  He massaged the back of his neck. He didn’t like the comparison. But he wouldn’t think about that right now. An important revelation had just unfolded. Vika’s trailer was beside Jecis’s. Solo could see no sign of it, and could only assume hers was smaller, obstructed. He could steal it instead of her father’s. A kindness on his part, letting her take a little piece of her life with her—since Solo would never allow her to return.

  And just how long do you intend to keep her?

  “All I was saying,” Audra added with a tremble, “was that she might have been feeding him to anger you and invite punishment to herself, thereby delaying her wedding.”

  Vika was getting married? To whom? he nearly snarled.

  Jecis, who’d been watching him intently, scowled. “I finally got to you, as promised, but not for a reason I approve. You are not to lust after my daughter, slave. She is off-limits to the likes of you, and far too good. If ever again you look at her, I’ll remove your eyes. If ever again you talk to her, I’ll remove your tongue.”

  Not one to cave to intimidation, Solo said, “Try it.” He would do everything in his power to ensure Jecis went down with him. “Let’s find out what happens.”

  The man’s nostrils flared with shock and anger. “Perhaps I will. Perhaps I’ll even give you back to the man who sold you to me. He’s not as nice as I am.”

  “Who sold me?” Gregory Star, he knew, but he wanted to hear the name from Jecis.

  Grinning now, Jecis grabbed Audra by the forearm and said, “Let’s go, woman, and leave him to wonder.”

  The moment they snaked the corner, X materialized on Solo’s shoulder.

  “Where have you been?” Solo demanded.

  “Recovering.”

  “All this time?” He was steady on hi
s feet, at least, his color high.

  Silence.

  “You were weakened yourself, but you were trying to heal me, weren’t you?” he asked, realization dawning.

  X didn’t confirm or deny.

  But Solo knew that he had been doing just that. “Thank you,” he said.

  A pause. A nod.

  “But I’m still angry with you,” he added. “You didn’t save the girl when you had the chance.” He’d planned to yell, but could no longer bring himself to do so. “You told me you had succeeded.”

  “Such little faith,” the tiny male tsked. “I did not lie. She’s alive, isn’t she?”

  “She was hurt.”

  “She was, yes—before you bid me to aid her. I did exactly what I told you I would do. I saved her from further harm.”

  A good point, but one he didn’t want to acknowledge. He would then have to admit the fault was his own, that he’d wasted precious minutes debating what to do.

  A long-suffering sigh brushed over his ear.

  That was it, just a sigh, but Solo suddenly wanted to cut out his own heart and present it to the being on a platter. Oh, how he loathed X’s sighs. He could always sense the disappointment, the disapproval and the hurt, as if he were breaking a promise he’d never made. As if he were destroying something precious—something he couldn’t even see!

  Maybe he was. Solo’s mother had raised him to be a better man than he was.

  To Mary Elizabeth Judah, all life was precious and a gift from God to be treasured. Solo hadn’t exactly treasured X, had he? Hadn’t given back what he’d been given.

  Even when Solo had been at his crankiest, Mary Elizabeth had treated him with love and kindness. She had cooked his favorite meals. She had ruffled his hair and told him how beautiful he was. She had left little notes throughout the house, positive words of encouragement. You are strong and courageous. And, You are adored. A good woman, his mother.

  Maybe she had known about Solo’s profession; maybe she hadn’t. They’d never talked about it. Everything he’d done, he’d done for a good cause. He’d never asked questions, but then, he’d never wanted to know. He’d trusted Michael. He’d removed scum like Jecis Lukas from the streets.

  But he’d grown colder over the years, hadn’t he? He was not the man his mother had raised.

  “Thank you,” he said again, this time with more heart. “For what you did for Vika, and what you did for me.”

  “You’re welcome,” X said with a happy grin.

  “Ugh. Mushy stuff,” Dr. E said, never far behind. He was hunched over, as if his shoulders were too heavy to hold up. “We aren’t women. Let’s man this party up and kill something.”

  Movement at his left. Solo homed in just in time to watch Vika crawl from behind one of the trailer’s huge tires. She brushed the dirt from her hands and knees as she checked the area for eavesdroppers.

  “She was listening the only way she could,” X said. “Through vibrations.”

  Her plum-colored gaze locked on Solo, and every muscle in his body tightened, clamping down on bone. The steady chatter of his companions faded as he drank her in. She wore a top and pants the same dark shade as the tire, and looked as though she’d stepped from Biker Chick Weekly—Role Play Edition. Her long, pale hair was sexily rumpled, her cheeks pink.

  She stepped backward, away from him, finally disappearing around the corner.

  He nearly shouted a denial. Calm. Steady. She would be back. He would tell her about her father’s threat and gauge her reaction. He wouldn’t ask her about the wedding. She would—

  Return a few minutes later with food, causing the tension to drain from him. She had changed into white and now looked as if she’d stepped from a cloud. She’d brushed her hair, the strands glistening like molten gold. She had brushed her teeth, too. He could smell the mint of her toothpaste. She tossed a burlap sack through the bars and onto his lap, the scent of buttered toast and freshly cooked syn-sausage wafting to his nose.

  She reached into a pant pocket to withdraw a rag. He waited. When she stretched out her arm to toss it through the bars, he leapt into action, scooting from the far end of the cage to the front, his own arm extending.

  Contact. His fingers locked around her wrist.

  She gasped. Her eyelids flipped up, and her gaze landed on him.

  “Let me go,” she demanded.

  When the softness of her skin delighted him? When the heat she emitted blended with his own? “Or what?”

  Heart-shaped lips pursed in the most adorable pout. “Or you’ll lose your man parts.”

  Something cold pressed against his thigh, and he glanced down. She had positioned a blade at the hem of his loincloth.

  X clapped at her daring.

  Dr. E growled.

  “Nice move,” Solo said, oddly proud of her.

  She sighed, a little dejected, and said, “I doubt I could actually go through with my threat. I really just carry the weapon to scare people away.”

  Oh, honey. That’s not something you ever admit to your opponent.

  As innocent as she appeared, though, her opponents could probably guess her lack of malicious intent.

  He released her. “I just wanted your attention.”

  “Well, you’ve got it.” She looked left, right, and sheathed the weapon. “But it’s too dangerous for us to talk.”

  “I’ll know if anyone heads this way. You’ll have plenty of time to hide.”

  Silence as she pondered his claim.

  “I promise,” he said.

  Another moment passed before she nodded.

  “Vow it. Vow that you’ll stay.” He couldn’t bear the thought of watching her walk away again. Not yet. “Just for a little while. As long as it’s safe.”

  Her nose scrunched up as she said, “But I just did.”

  “I want the words. Please.”

  “Please. Wow. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that word from another person’s lips. Not without a request for freedom, that is. But okay, all right,” she said. “I vow it.”

  He waited for any type of reaction from her, but again . . . she never gave one. Not so much as a single twitch. Were the words truly not bonding to her?

  “Are you getting married?” He hadn’t meant to ask—actually hated himself for asking—but there it was. He couldn’t take it back. And didn’t want to.

  “Not if I can help it,” she replied, chin lifting.

  “Tell me why—”

  “I’ll talk about anything but that,” she said.

  Fury now radiated from her. Fury and more of that fear he’d noticed before, mixed with a healthy amount of desperation and resignation.

  Very well. “Are you eating?” he asked. He’d felt the slenderness of her wrist, was as concerned as he was enthralled.

  “Since the vow didn’t include honesty, I’ll say yes.”

  “So you aren’t?”

  Her shoulders sagged. “I am. A little,” she admitted in that velvety voice of hers.

  “Eat more.” He lifted the bag she’d tossed at him. During his leap, it had fallen to the side. He dug inside and found the bread.

  “I’ll be okay,” she said. “You need the nourishment.”

  He heard the hunger in her voice, and saw the way she watched the bread as though hypnotized. She’d been giving him the food from her own plate, he realized, probably not wanting to be caught grabbing extra and announce her purpose. He could barely process that information as he eased the toast to her mouth. Only his parents had ever placed his welfare above their own.

  Vika shook her head, long strands of that curling gold hair dancing around her. When that failed to dissuade him, she arched backward. “You first. You’re recovering from all those injuries.”

  “I’m more recovered than you realize.”

  “You’re definitely stronger, and you’re definitely a fast healer, but no one—”

  He turned.

  She gasped with amazement. “Your back.”

&n
bsp; There were a few scabs remaining, a few scars, but other than that, the skin was mended.

  She reached out, traced her finger over one of the ridges. The touch electrified him, and he moaned. He . . . he . . . wanted more, wanted that finger all over him, everywhere. Just as soft, just as gentle. Just as tender.

  “Well, I still want you to eat,” she said somewhat shakily, as if the connection had affected her, too.

  He forced himself to face her. Control. He wasn’t sure how long they would be alone, and she needed to eat. He bit off a tiny piece from the corner of the bread, then once again placed it at her mouth—making sure her lips encountered the same spot as his own.

  A cute little nibble, revealing the barest hint of teeth.

  Such an innocent action, yet so lovely to watch.

  Color bloomed all the brighter in her cheeks as she chewed, swallowed.

  “Another,” he commanded.

  She obeyed.

  He liked this, he realized. Liked feeding her and knowing he was helping her, even in so small a way. “Another.”

  “It’s so good,” she said, and claimed a much bigger bite.

  “Isn’t this nice?” Dr. E sneered.

  Solo glanced over at him, intending to give him a dark enough look to send him fleeing in fear, but the sight of Dr. E stunned him. In a matter of seconds, the little man had lost weight, his cheeks becoming gaunt, and his pale skin more pallid than before.

  “Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look, shoving your gigantor hand at her tiny face? Why don’t you act like a man and remove her thumb, then bust free? Huh, huh? That’s what you wanted in the beginning, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t listen to him,” X said, and Solo glanced over at him. “His only purpose is to ruin your life. Tell me you’ve realized that by now.”

  Where Dr. E had wilted, X had bloomed. In a matter of seconds, he had gained muscled weight, his cheeks filling out, his skin now glowing brightly. Was Solo’s happiness strengthening X the way X had strengthened him all these years? Was that same happiness weakening Dr. E? Yes, he realized a moment later. It was. And it made sense. His worry had always caused the opposite.

  How strange to think he could be happy—something he’d never really experienced before, even with his beloved parents, for he’d always felt as if something important were missing from his life—while trapped in a cage. But he was.