Last Kiss Goodnight (Otherworld Assassin)

by Gena Showalter

  “Uh, X?” She considered dropping her basket and running.

  I’ve got this.

  The tiger crouched, as though ready to leap at her and feast on her bones. Her steps faltered.

  He’s not going to leap. Now, move three inches to the left. Good. Now hop and angle toward the right.

  Again she obeyed. “Why am I walking like this, anyway?”

  To avoid security. Now, take a giant step forward, as if you’re stepping over a fallen tree. Good, now stop. Give me just a moment. With that, the being vanished.

  He never appeared on or even near the tiger (to her knowledge), but suddenly the creature dropped to the snow-laden ground. He pushed out a heavy breath.

  He’s all yours, X said, once again on her shoulder.

  Vika closed the rest of the distance with much surer steps. She knelt beside the magnificent beast and scratched him behind the ears. “I’ll make you feel better,” she said. And, now used to Solo, added, “I vow it.”

  Pain-filled blue eyes watched her warily. She would not fail this creature.

  Working swiftly yet gently, she cleaned each of the punctures.

  Not many people would have come out here, X said.

  “I couldn’t leave him.”

  I like that about you.

  “Thank you.”

  You’re exactly what Solo has always needed.

  A small thrill lit her up inside. “What was he like as a child? Other than what you showed me, I mean.”

  A fond chuckle. He was the sweetest little boy ever created, following his mother around, always making her gifts.

  Only yesterday, he’d offered to buy Vika new jewelry. She’d convinced herself the offer stemmed from irritation over the heaviness of her bag, and maybe it had, but what if it had also stemmed from a desire to please her?

  Hands trembling, she smoothed numbing cream over the feline’s injuries and wrapped his leg with a thick white bandage, applying pressure to stop any more bleeding. A final scratch behind the creature’s ear and she stood to walk back into the cabin. Once again X ordered her steps, making her zig and zag and leap.

  Inside the cabin, warm air instantly enveloped her. She shucked her coat and carried the basket of supplies to the bedroom, desperate to see Solo again. He had begun to stir. He’d kicked the covers from the bed, leaving his body bare. He was on his stomach, his back to her. His luscious, luscious back. He was all bronzed skin and chiseled muscle, his bottom tight, his legs . . . injured, just like the tiger’s.

  Concerned, Vika rushed to his side.

  All right, then. This is where I say good-bye, X said, and vanished.

  The wolves had bitten Solo, she recalled, and the teeth marks were still there, still leaking. She set the basket down and withdrew the only remaining clean rag.

  The moment the fabric brushed against his skin, he jerked around, arm swiping out, his claws elongating—but he caught sight of her and stopped the momentum just in time.

  The claws retracted, and Solo moaned, as though in pain. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

  “My fault,” she said, and there wasn’t a single beat of fear inside her. That’s how much she trusted him. “My babies used to react the same way when anyone roused them from sleep. I knew better.” Smiling softly, she gave his warm chest a little push. “Lie back. You promised I would get to tend you when we reached the cabin. Well, happy news. We’ve reached the cabin.”

  As strong as he was, the action forced him to do nothing. Still, he fell backward, the pillows plumping around him. He watched her as she doctored him, silent. When she finished, she traced her fingertip along one of his toenails.

  “So pretty,” she said. “Like diamonds.”

  “I want you again, Vika.”

  He was totally and completely naked. “I realize that, Solo,” she said with a grin.

  Their gazes met, and she suspected the same fire that crackled in his also crackled in her own.

  “Do you want me?” he asked.

  “More than anything.”

  “Then have me.”

  She did. Oh, she did.

  • • •

  Vika propped herself up on one elbow and peered down at Solo. He met her gaze through heavy-lidded eyes. His hair was in complete disarray, the dark strands sticking out in spikes. The strong bones of his face were overlaid with skin flushed from the intense pleasure they had shared. His lips were soft and red from her kisses, a little swollen.

  He was breathtaking.

  “I think I liked that time better than the first,” she announced.

  “You’ll like the third time even better,” he promised.

  She laughed with delight. “So, when we get to your farm, are you going to let me feed the animals? Can that be one of my chores?”

  A pause. A hesitant “You’ve decided to stay with me?”

  “For now,” she said, thinking, forever. But she wouldn’t tell him that part. Not yet. Not until she was certain he wanted her in his life that long.

  “That’s good.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “But I have to tell you something, Vika. You might change your mind.”

  Her stomach bottomed out. In a single blink of time, he had gone from playful and aroused to serious and grim. “What is it?”

  He looked away from her. “I don’t want to lie to you, want to give you full disclosure even though I told myself I’d keep this a secret, and I know I should have told you before you ran off with me. But I’m a smart man—really smart—and now it’s too late for you to ditch me, so this was the wisest path and I’m not sorry.”

  O-kay, she’d never seen him this uncomfortable. And she’d seen him stripped and fondled by strangers! “Just tell me.”

  His fingers tangled in his hair. “You’re not going to like it.”

  “Well, you’re just gonna have to use your man parts and do it!”

  He stilled, his lips twitching. “My man parts? Do you mean my balls?”

  Heat blasted from her cheeks. “Maybe.”

  “Say it,” he said with a grin. “Say the word. I want to hear it on those candy-apple lips.”

  “No! Now stop stalling and—your eyes,” she said with a frown. There was a slight ringing in her ears, annoying and yet wonderful. “Your eyes used to be a light blue, but now they’re a dark purple, like my father’s used to be. Like mine are.” And she could see far more clearly than she’d ever seen before, she realized as she looked around the room.

  Before, she’d thought everything was clear. Now she realized how wrong she’d been. This was clear. Dust motes swirled in the air, floating . . . floating . . . and the overhead light provided an undeniable radiance that caused her to tear.

  Confused, she eased all the way up. “What’s going on?”

  “Your eyes are now a light blue,” he said. “I noticed it a few minutes ago, but I figured it was a trick of the light.”

  “My eyes aren’t dark purple?”

  “No. They’re blue, like mine used to be.”

  So . . . they had changed, both of them. “I don’t understand this.”

  “Could we have . . . switched?”

  Maybe. “But I’ve never heard of anything like that happening. Not with humans, or even humans dating otherworlders.” The ringing stopped abruptly, and in its place, she heard her own voice. “I can hear,” she said with a gasp. “I can hear!” And oh, her voice was gorgeous! She knew it was wrong to brag, but she couldn’t help herself. Her voice was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard!

  “What?” he said, rubbing at his ears. “Say that again.”

  Scratch that. His voice was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard. Rough and raspy, dark and masculine, full of power and undeniable vigor, causing her to shiver. “It’s a miracle! My ears are working. Do you have any idea how long I’ve—”

  “I can’t hear you,” he interrupted. “I can’t hear anything.”

  “What?” she screeched. She could hear, but he couldn’t? No. No, no, n
o. That would mean they’d done more than switch eyes. They’d switched ears. His perfection for all of her flaws.

  “The vow.” He gave her a dazed look. “I vowed to give you all that I was.”

  So had she. The moisture dried in her mouth. “Oh, Solo, I’m so sorry.” She flattened her palms on his chest, felt the hard thump of his heartbeat. “I never would have agreed to such a switch—”

  “Hush,” he said. “In my line of work I had to learn to read lips, too, so we won’t have any problem communicating.”

  Yes, but he’d helped her and she’d hurt him. “I’ll never be able to forgive myself. After everything you’ve done for me, I go and do something like this to you, adding to your misery. It’s not fair to you. It’s criminal, actually. I should be punished!”

  “You stop that right now. This hearing thing? It doesn’t matter.” He tugged her down so that she sprawled across his chest. “Now listen to what I have to say.” He traced his fingertips along the ridges of her spine. “I will tell you about my past, and you will vow to stay with me anyway.”

  An order. One she would heed. There was nothing he could say to change her mind about him.

  “I was a contract killer for the government.” He paused, as if expecting her to leap up and run.

  She didn’t—she was too stunned.

  He continued. “I killed humans, otherworlders, males, females, it didn’t matter. If I was told to kill someone, I killed that someone, no questions asked. I’ve killed a lot of people, Vika.”

  She wouldn’t lie. The words were hard to hear, and she flinched. Her man, a killer. But he wasn’t anything like her father, she reminded herself, and she would never think of him that way. Jecis had enjoyed the pain he inflicted. Solo never had, something she would stake her life on.

  “I cried after my first kill, and I’m not embarrassed to admit it. I stared at the body for a long, long time, shaking, sick to my stomach. But I still took the next job, and the next, and eventually what I was doing no longer bothered me. I was cold inside, and glad of it.”

  But not now. There was too much regret in his tone.

  “Most of what I did was for a good cause, and I know men like me are needed to keep our world safe. But the things I had to do to complete certain jobs . . . I think I’ve always been more like you, because, no matter my reasons, what I was doing was also killing the man I was meant to be. I wish I could undo my past. I wish I could go back and live a different life, but I can’t. I have to live with what I’ve done. And now, I’m asking you to live with it, too.”

  She heard the regret, now mixed with insecurity, doubt, guilt, and sorrow. A desire to clean the slate and start fresh. A desire she knew very well. She was surprised she could judge the emotions so precisely, and doubted she could have done so with anyone else, but this was Solo, her Solo, and she knew him in a way she’d never known anyone else.

  Vika sat up, her hair tumbling around her shoulders. He waited, tense.

  “Everyone regrets things in their past,” she said, and he tensed a little more. “Even me.”

  As he watched her lips, he relaxed, but only slightly. “You have done nothing wrong.”

  Oh, no. He wasn’t going to absolve her. “Rather than finding a way to free the otherworlders right from the start, I enabled my father to use them. And don’t you dare say I did what I could. I could have done more. My actions were selfish. I wanted out of there permanently and I let them rot while I saved my money.”

  “You searched for the key.”

  “I could have searched harder. I could have asked Jecis about it.”

  “And placed yourself at greater risk.”

  “All I’m saying is, we both could have acted differently.”

  “Vika—”

  “I still want to stay at your farm,” she interjected. “You’re not the man you used to be, and you aren’t a monster.” And she didn’t like that she’d ever implied he could be. No one could see into the heart of a man and know what he felt or why he did what he did. You had to wait and watch for the fruit. An orange tree would always bear oranges. A lemon tree would always bear lemons. “I’m not the girl I used to be, either, and I’m so very—”

  “Don’t you dare apologize,” he said sternly. “With your past, the fact that you helped me at all is amazing enough.”

  “Sorry,” she finished anyway.

  His frown was chiding.

  “We have to forgive ourselves,” she said with a nod. “We can’t live with self-hatred. It’s a terrible emotion, and it will open the door for us to hate others. Hating others will make us like Jecis, and I don’t want to be like Jecis.”

  “We can only go on from here,” Solo agreed. “Doing better.”

  “We start fresh.” From this moment on, she was no longer the coward who slunk around in the shadows, the timid mouse that cowered in corners, or the victim of constant cruelty. She was filled with hope. She was empowered.

  She was with the most magnificent of men.

  “As long as you never forget what we’ve done here at this cabin,” Solo said, his voice tender.

  Shivering, she replied, “Believe me, I’ll be dreaming about this cabin every time I close my eyes.”

  “I have a feeling I will as well.” He reached up, brushed a fingertip over her cheeks. “We’ve talked about the past. Now let’s talk about the future. After I free the otherworlders from the circus, I have to find my friends, John and Blue. They were injured, like me, and from what little I know about the man responsible, terrible things were done to them.”

  “I understand.” And she wouldn’t have it any other way. “I’ll do anything I can to help.”

  A fierce light in eyes she was used to seeing stare back at her from a mirror—a light she’d never before seen in them. “No matter what happens, I’ll take care of you.”

  “And I’ll take care of you,” she promised. “And when we succeed—and we will, because we’re unstoppable—we’re going on a date. Many dates. You’re going to wine and dine me, and I’m going to dress up and seduce you. We’ll dance and eat and talk and laugh, and have the best time.”

  “I’ll agree to those terms on one condition,” he said, and reached down to cup her bottom.

  A thrum of need, a breathy moan. “What?”

  He licked and sucked at her collarbone. “Solo no good with words. He have to show.”

  Silly caveman. “Again? Oh, dear. However will I survive?”

  He kissed her, relearning her, tasting her, but the kiss soon spun out of control. Just as before, Vika was confounded by the absolute and utter delight she found in the act of making love with him. Solo was gentle, and he was rough, he was careful and he was undisciplined, he was . . . everything to her, and more than she could have ever dreamed.

  There was no part of her he left unpraised. Nothing was taboo. He delighted in all that she was, and erupted into a frenzy of growls and commands when she took over, showing him just how much she loved him.

  Love?

  She did, she realized. She loved him with all of her heart. The emotion burst through her, warming her, delighting her, thrilling her—frightening her, but she wasn’t going to dwell on that, and she wasn’t going to think about wanting more from him than he might want from her. His feelings wouldn’t change her own. And she wasn’t a mouse, she reminded herself. She was brave. She was strong. She would go after what she wanted with everything she had.

  Twenty-eight

  The flowers have already appeared in the land, the time has arrived for pruning the vines, and the voice of the turtledove has been heard in our land.

  —SONG OF SOLOMON 2:12

  SOLO STARED AT THE computer screen and scowled. Finally, he’d gotten an e-mail. Three, in fact. One from Michael, one from John, and one from Blue. But all three were bounce-back messages.

  Their e-mail addresses had been changed. And so had their phone numbers. That was standard operating procedure when an identity or a location had been compromis
ed—or an agent had died.

  Solo’s own code to this cabin should have been disabled, but it hadn’t been. He wasn’t sure why. What he did know? He needed a new plan. If Michael was alive, he knew Solo was here, despite their little communication problem. He would have known the moment Solo punched the code into the alarm. He would have called.

  To Solo, that still didn’t prove the man was dead. But. Yeah, but. There was always a but when doubt and uncertainty were involved. Solo might have to proceed as if Michael was out of the picture and unable to help him.

  Now that the cuffs were out there in the wild, Jecis wouldn’t be able to get a lock on Solo. He would be watching the nearest cities, maybe even the airport and bus station. But that wasn’t really a problem. In the garage underneath the cabin, there was a truck and an ATV. But . . . There was that word again. He didn’t like the thought of taking Vika out in the elements. She’d held up well the first time, but he’d since made the mistake of allowing desire to overshadow duty, and hadn’t used the condom the first time they made love. He’d used it the second, and should have stopped since they’d had no more. But then he’d rationalized that the damage was already done. So he’d made love to her a third time—and he would make love to her again.

  She could now be pregnant. And if she wasn’t, she could be by day’s end.

  The possibility should have disturbed him. The possibility should have frightened him. He wasn’t ready to be a father. But he couldn’t deny he liked the thought of Vika round with his child, tied to him on so visceral a level.

  A loud ringing erupted in his ears, and he frowned, ignored it. He didn’t like that Jecis knew Vika’s general vicinity. He didn’t like father and daughter even being in the same country. But though Solo now had the resources, he didn’t have time to take her somewhere else.

  He would stay here one more night, he decided, and wait for Michael. Then, if his boss failed to contact him or arrive, he would lock Vika inside the cabin and return to the circus—with guns, as Kitten had requested. After all, more than vehicles filled the garage.