by Jaye Wells
I nodded. My heart kicked up a notch. It was finally happening. My first kill.
The parking lot was deserted. Beyond the hush of traffic from the freeway, our movements up the stairs were muted. It wouldn’t cover the sound of gunfire, though, so I’d made sure to slip on a silencer.
Slade took point on the left side of the door and I took the right, ready to get his back. Staying to the side, Slade knocked on the door.
“What?” a surly male voice called from inside. Zeke.
“Maintenance.”
“Fuck off.” The voice was closer now. A shadow passed over the peephole. Slade didn’t bother responding. He kicked the door in, slamming it into Zeke’s face. The pudgy vamp fell back with his hands over his nose, screaming blood murder.
With the vampire not blocking the door, I could finally see into the room. The bedspread and sheets had been kicked off to the floor. An overturned lamp lay drunkenly on the side table. A painting that presumably had once hung over the headboard was piled in the corner. The canvas was ripped and its frame splintered. I took all that in quickly, along with the lack of female.
“Where’s Pansy Foxglove?” I demanded.
Zeke lay on the ground. His nose bled freely but his eyes burned with anger. “Who the fuck are you?”
Slade stepped over the threshold into the room. “We’re your worst nightmare, asshole. Did you really think the Dominae wouldn’t track you down?”
The vampire’s rapidly swelling eyes widened. In the next heartbeat, he leapt off the ground and barreled past Slade. I braced myself, but the vampire’s momentum knocked me off my feet. I fell on my ass just as he launched over the railing and took off across the parking lot.
“Fuck!” Slade yelled and took off after him. “Find the girl!” he shouted over his shoulder.
I scrambled to my feet with a few choice curses of my own. Looking for the girl would mean I might miss the big finale, but I also knew if that girl died, we’d have the faery madam’s werewolf goon on our asses.
I ran into the room. “Pansy?” I called. A weak noise came from the direction of the bathroom. Like a lot of hotel rooms, the sink sat in a counter outside the bathroom proper. The rusty taps leaked brown water into the basin. I looked toward the door, which was closed, but no light came from underneath.
“Pansy?” I whispered, not wanting to scare the girl.
Another whimper, this time louder. I reached for the door handle and carefully pushed the panel. The door hit something solid and a responding screech sounded.
“Shit, sorry.” I peeked through the opening and froze.
A mass of wet hair and tears mixed with blood had been bound to the base of the toilet. She was gagged and naked.
“Great Mother protect us,” I breathed. Despite my disgust over the obvious abuse the girl had suffered, I marshaled my limbs into action. “I’ll be right back,” I promised the girl.
I ran back into the other room and grabbed the comforter. This wasn’t the kind of hotel that offered fluffy white robes to its guests, so the bedspread would have to do until I could locate her clothes.
Back in the bathroom, I carefully covered her with the spread. Her eyes were wide and haunted, and she shied away from the contact. “Shh,” I said. “I’m here to help you. My name is Sabina.”
She looked unsure but finally nodded. I reached up and pulled down the gag. She worked her jaw experimentally and earned a wince for the effort. She swallowed hard, as if to rewet a dry throat. “Jacques?” she croaked.
“My partner is handling him.”
She nodded and let out a shuddering breath. I waited a moment to make sure she wasn’t about to lose her shit, but she stayed quiet. With a decisive nod, I took a look at mass of knots in the rope Zeke had used to tie her to the commode. Removing a knife from my boot, I raised it to cut through the rope.
“My boss doesn’t know where I am,” Pansy whispered. “She’ll be so angry with me.”
The last knot gave, releasing her hands. She raised them and began to rub against the rope burns on her wrists. I shook my head. “Liliana helped us find you. I promise she won’t be angry with you.”
I knelt down and helped her stand. “Are you hurt anywhere critical?”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. He knocked me around some.” This statement was unnecessary. She had cuts on her jaw and cheekbones, but it had been the burns I’d noticed on her breasts and thighs that had me worried. As if she’d read my thoughts, she said, “He used a cigarette.” A shudder rushed through her small body. I pulled her closer and helped her through the door.
We were limping toward the bed when the door burst open again. Only, instead of Slade returning to say he’d killed Zeke, it was Liliana’s werewolf, Rolf.
The girl cried out at the noise and her whole body shuddered, as if she’d been worried it was Zeke coming back for more. I looked down and realized she’d squeezed her eyes shut. “Pansy,” I said softly, “it’s okay. It’s just Rolf.”
Her eyes opened and she sagged against me. I helped her to the bed and lowered her to the edge. When I looked up again, Rolf was frozen in the doorway. If the rage on his face was anything to go by, he was having some problems processing what he was seeing.
I crossed my arms. “You said we had twenty-four hours.”
He dragged his gaze from the faery huddled on the bed to glare at me. “So sue me.” Dismissing me, he rushed across the room to kneel before Pansy. With a surprisingly gentle touch, he took the small hand lying on her lap. He looked down at the angry red wounds from the rope. “Pansy?” he whispered.
As if his gentleness was the final straw, she let out a wail and fell into the werewolf’s arms. He wrapped his arms around her and cradled her small body in his lap. Something told me their relationship went beyond simple protector and prostitute. I looked away from the intimacy of the scene. “I’m going to go help Slade,” I said. But neither of them looked up. Knowing the girl was now in good hands, I spun on my heel and ran out the door.
On the balcony, I stopped to listen. My vampire hearing meant I could hear more than a mortal. I closed my eyes and blocked out the sounds of traffic from the freeway and the TVs coming out of the other rooms. Sure enough, the sound of fists against flesh reached me.
I jumped over the railing and shot across the parking lot.
Somewhere behind me, I heard a door slam, followed by the sound of high heels on pavement. A familiar female voice cursed loudly. I didn’t look back, but I’d have bet cash money Mischa followed us to the hotel, hoping to cut in on the action.
I pumped my legs faster and turned down the alley between the hotel and the liquor store beside it. I came out the other end of the alley in time to see Slade and Zeke duking it out beside a Dumpster.
I paused. Why the hell was Slade bothering tussling with the vampire? He should have already killed the bastard. But even as I thought that, relief washed through me. I hadn’t missed out on the kill, and judging from what I’d just left behind in the room, I definitely wanted to be part of the main event.
Up ahead, Zeke clasped his fists together and slammed them into the side of Slade’s head. The assassin stumbled. Not far, but just enough for Zeke to jump on top of the Dumpster. Then he leaped up to grab the bottom of a fire escape ladder. Pulling it down, he scrambled up the ladder onto the platform. Then he pulled the ladder up behind him. From there, he climbed up a series of footholds to the building’s roof.
“Slade?” I called.
Slade shook his head as if Zeke’s strike had rung his bell pretty good. “Go around the front of the building in case he comes back down!”
I stopped, panting for breath. “Why me?”
“Really? You’re going to argue now?” He looked over his shoulder at Mischa, who was running toward us in her five-inch heels.
“Fine, but if you reach him first, wait until I catch up.”
Slade nodded impatiently and jumped up on the Dumpster. “Go!”
I
backtracked, zooming past Mischa in the alley without a second glance. I heard her skitter to a halt. “Where are you going?” She turned to follow me.
I ignored her and ran around to the front of the motel. A black Trans Am with a snarling wolf on the hood was peeling out of the parking lot. Guess that meant Rolf had decided to get Pansy out of there rather than wait for us. Fine by me. The girl needed medical attention, and the less bodies around, the better.
The lobby was deserted, thank the gods. My boots clomped across the linoleum toward the stairs. The door opened behind me and Mischa’s heels joined my boots in echoing off the walls.
“Sabina,” she whisper-yelled. “What’s going on?”
I needed to ditch her before she got in the way. Skidding to a halt, I turned. “Mischa, thank the goddess you’re here. Zeke’s on his way out the front door,” I lied. “You stay here and bag him when he comes your way.”
She narrowed her eyes, trying to figure out if she could trust me. “Where are you going?”
I heaved a big sigh. “You don’t want to help, fine. But you can explain to the Dominae why you let him go after he escapes again.”
She lifted her chin. “All right, but if I bag him, I’m not splitting the money with you.”
“Whatever. Just stay there and make sure he doesn’t get away.”
Without waiting for a response, I turned and ran up the stairs toward the roof. At the top, I burst through the metal door. Male grunts echoed across the barren landscape. Adrenaline surged. I rounded the corner to see Slade and Zeke knocking the shit out of each other.
As I rushed toward them, I was surprised that Slade was having so much trouble. Sure, he’d promised to wait for me to get there for the kill, but I hadn’t expected him to follow through on it. Every assassin knows when you get an opening to finish the job, you take it. But Slade didn’t even have a stake in his hand. Zeke was fighting, but he was also winded and scared. Slade should have had the advantage hands down.
I pulled my gun from my waistband and advanced. Slade pushed Zeke back against the low wall surrounding the roof. Slade knew I was there, because next thing I knew, he yelled, “Shoot him!”
Normally, I wouldn’t have hesitated, but my hands shook and sweaty palms made my grip slippery. I didn’t want to risk missing and clipping Slade by mistake. “Move!”
When Slade looked over his shoulder at me, Zeke clocked him on the side of the head and took off running again. My partner swept his feet under Zeke’s legs, knocking the fat bastard to the ground. Then Slade jumped over and grabbed the gun from my hands. He spun and took a shot.
The bullet whizzed by a good foot from Zeke’s head. He lurched off the ground and rammed his good shoulder into Slade. The assassin cursed and fell on his ass. Zeke loomed over him, but Slade still had the gun.
Now, I thought, now he’ll get him.
Slade pulled the trigger. The bullet went wide again and lodged itself in an HVAC unit. My mouth dropped open; shocked he could miss such an easy shot.
Zeke, spurred on by adrenaline, ran toward the door—and me. Driven by pain and fear, he barreled right toward me. I bent my knees and pulled my spare gun from my waistband.
For one second, Zeke’s face was a mask of rage barreling toward me. Then time slowed, and the gun in my slippery grip exploded. Blood burst from Zeke’s right eye socket. His body jerked back, his arms going wide in forced surrender. He ignited before his body hit the rooftop.
I stood still for a moment as the shock of what I’d done soaked in. “I did it,” I whispered. “I finally did it.”
Slade groaned on the ground nearby. I walked over and gave him a hand up. “You okay?” I asked.
He nodded. “Sorry ’bout that,” Slade said, motioning vaguely. “It’s been a while since I shot a gun.”
“No problem,” I said, somewhat shakily. “At least we got him.”
“You did good,” he said. He gently pulled the gun from my steely grip. “You did real good.”
I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Guess we’ll need to call the sweepers to clean up this mess.”
He nodded. “How’s the faery?”
“Not good,” I said. “But luckily Rolf decided to jump the gun and came to get her.”
Just then, the door to the roof slammed open. Mischa exploded through it at full speed. When she saw the pile of ash smoldering on the ground, she yelled, “No! This was my kill.”
“Day late and a dollar short as usual, Mischa.” Slade flashed me a grin that made his normally harsh face look roguishly handsome.
She stamped her feet and punched the wall—a vampire temper tantrum. Pitiful.
Slade turned to me and slung his arm across my shoulder. “Come on, Sabina. Let’s go celebrate your first kill.”
I couldn’t sit still on the way home. By the time he turned into my neighborhood, Slade looked at me with a rueful smile. “I remember my first kill,” he said wistfully.
Needing something to do to distract me from my restlessness, I turned to him. “Tell me about it.”
He shrugged. “Not much to tell, really. The target was a low-level clerk for the Dominae. He’d cooked some books and siphoned a couple hundred thousand before anyone detected it. Easy kill. But I’ll never forget how I felt after.”
“Excited?”
He smiled, turning into my driveway. “More than that. The closest word I can think of is aroused.” He punctuated the word by slamming the van into park.
“Yes,” I said, looking him in the eye. “Aroused. That’s the perfect word.”
He watched me in the dark, saying nothing.
“Do you still feel that way after a kill?” I asked, licking my lips.
He answered with his mouth, but not with words. One second, he was on his side of the van, watching me with heat in his eyes. The next, he was on me. I welcomed the contact, reveling in another type of adrenaline. His fang scraped my lip, and he sucked on the sting, heightening the pain…and the pleasure.
We barely made it inside before the clothes came off. A small voice in the back of my head wondered if this was a mistake. After all, sex and business never mix well. But, another voice said, you’re off the clock. The mission was successful, and it’s time to celebrate.
I chose to listen to the latter voice and welcomed Slade’s tongue in my mouth once again. His copper scent combined with the musk of exertion from the night’s battle. He slammed me up against the wall and I felt the drywall give with the force of his thrusts. I wrapped my legs around his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. He filled me thoroughly, but I wasn’t content to let him have control.
He reached up and grabbed a handful of my hair. I jerked away and lowered my legs. I pushed him back roughly toward a dining room chair. Slade smiled and obeyed. He fell heavily onto it and pulled me down after him. My legs bracketing his hips, I dug my toes into the hardwood floor for a better grip. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving small beads of blood I licked away. Slade groaned and urged me on with filthy whispers.
I’d had sex before, but that had been restrained, polite affairs with upper-class vampires who thought bagging a highborn mixed-blood would be an adventure. But behind Slade’s tightly controlled façade lurked an animalistic lover. One spurred on by the excitement of the kill. My own internal beast rose to meet his and I gave him back as good as I got. Scratching, clawing, fucking until we were both left sweaty and spent on the cold floor.
The next evening, I woke when the bed dipped. My eyes fluttered open. Slade sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his boots. His clothes were on and his keys lay on the bed next to his hip.
“You’re leaving?” I said.
“Got to go pick up our payment, but I’ll be back.”
“Cool,” I said lamely. The muscles in my shoulders relaxed. It’s not that I expected him to declare himself just because we’d screwed. But still. No one liked it when their partner dashed out the door after a night of hot, sweaty sex. “Fifty-fifty, right?” I joked
.
He smiled. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“You’ll find I always get what I want,” I said.
He leaned down and kissed me. Unlike the frenzied kisses last night, this one was long and slow. Tender. Almost like he was saying goodbye for more than a couple of hours. When he pulled away and smiled, I shook off the heavy feeling of foreboding. “Fifty-fifty it is.”
“Excellent. When you get back, we’ll celebrate.”
For a split second, I thought I saw a shadow pass behind his hooded eyes. But then he patted my ass and rose. “It’s a date. Be back soon.”
I leaned back in the bed and listened to him leave. His footsteps on the hardwood floor. The click of the door closing. Then, a few moments later, the van’s engine roaring to life.
I clenched my stomach muscles against the tickle of excitement. Everything was coming together for the first time in my life. I’d finally made my first kill. Now my grandmother would have to accept my competence.
And the fact I’d managed to finally outdo that bitch Mischa Petrov made the victory so much sweeter. The look on her face when she realized we’d beaten her was worth more to me than any monetary reward.
And what about Slade? Right then, Slade was a big question mark. A very sexy, intense question mark. I scooted down into the covers as a smile spread across my face.
Sure, the job didn’t leave a lot of room for romance, but there was no reason we couldn’t be friends with benefits. Using each other to work off the post-job glow, as it were. And who knew? Maybe more would grow. I allowed myself to daydream about us teaming up on more missions. He’d teach me everything he knew about being an assassin, and I’d reward him with hot, steamy sex. Seemed like a fair deal.
By the next evening, my post-sex glow had turned into an inferno of anger. I slammed my fist into the table. “Where is he?” I demanded. All rational thought had flown out the window in the last twenty-four hours, but it wasn’t until this moment that rage filled up the hollow place that logic had abandoned.
