The Darkest Assassin

by Gena Showalter

  As the demon fell, gasping for breath he couldn’t catch, black blood spurted out. Bjorn yanked Fox to the side, avoiding contact with the substance far more corrosive than acid. Then, he palmed the sword of fire to finish the creature off.

  That done, he turned to Fox, baffled. “You saved me from injury.”

  “I know. That’ll cost you another ten thousand dollars.” Smiling sweetly, she cleaned the bloody dagger on his robe.

  He could almost see the dollar signs in her eyes and fought another smile of his own. “So, you are a bodyguard as well as a badass. Good to know.”

  What was he going to do with this woman?

  * * * *

  Bjorn recruited fifty soldiers, while Fox stood at his side, unmoving and quiet. The Warriors glared at her with hatred and menace, and his mood continued to darken.

  Why didn’t she ask questions, or share her thoughts about each individual?

  That night, he slept on one side of the bed, and she slept on the other. They did not speak, touch, or try to tempt each other sexually. His emotions were too rough and raw, and they did not improve with the rise of the sun.

  And yet, when he climbed out of bed, he felt as if he’d shed a hundred pounds of baggage. He’d slept with a beautiful woman he admired. Someone he hungered to possess, who made him smile with her quick wit and guarded his back as well as Thane and Xerxes. Fox might be pardoned today. What did he have to complain about?

  Bright sunlight filtered through the bedroom window, bathing Fox, who still lay on her side, eyes closed. His shaft ached to fill her.

  Trembling like a lad, he reached out to trace his fingertips along the rise of her cheeks, only to snatch his hand back before contact. Would his willpower splinter with the first touch?

  The mattress suddenly bounced as Fox jolted upright. “What? What’s wrong?” she demanded, reaching under her pillow. Where she usually kept a dagger? “Did Alana summon you?”

  Took him a moment to realize she directed the question at him. That she hadn’t glanced in his direction but remained aware of him…the sweetest progress.

  “There’s been no summons.” Alana always waited two or three weeks between summons to ensure he’d regained his strength, just so she could drain him again.

  Although, Alana must have sensed his arousal last night. Must sense his arousal even now. Perhaps she would believe he’d self-pleasured. If ever she learned the truth…

  A ragged growl brewed in his chest. If Alana harmed Fox, Bjorn would…he would…

  He balled his fists. Nothing seemed dark enough.

  He forced his thoughts to the matter at hand. “We have more meetings today.”

  She groaned. “Can I call in sick? Yesterday, I stood at your side and stayed quiet. Don’t think I didn’t realize everyone glared daggers at me, hoping you’d slay me while they watched. And I’m not complaining. I deserve it. I did them bad, and I need to make amends.”

  This was the first time she’d spoken about making any kind of amends, and damn if he didn’t shed another hundred pounds of baggage.

  “At least your presence mutes Distrust some,” she grumbled, then blew a lock of hair from her eyes.

  A tendril of satisfaction wafted through him. So, he aided her with Distrust just as she aided him with his past. “Have you ever been in love?” The sudden change of subject proved jarring, but he didn’t snatch back the words.

  “Nope,” she answered, not missing a beat. “You?”

  “Once. Her name was Leema, and she left me for another male.”

  “Then she’s an idiot.” Fox reached over to pat his shoulder. As he’d feared, contact nearly obliterated his resolve. How would he ever win their bet? Control slipping… “You’re the best person I know.”

  Awe punched him so hard, he lost his breath. Ten words, yet they profoundly impacted his life. Fox found genuine worth in him. Him.

  If he didn’t get out of this bed right now, he wouldn’t be getting out at all. He would strip her, pin her beneath him, spread her legs, and finally, blessedly surge inside her.

  She must make the first move. He would receive a boon of his choice, and he wanted, needed to request a second chance for his friends. They were a part of his life…but so was Fox. The three had to make peace.

  He had to get this woman to break. Soon!

  * * * *

  Seven more days passed, yet Fox never broke.

  The frustration Bjorn had expected to feel on day two? It plagued him relentlessly now, and he wondered what boon she hoped to ask of him. Freedom?

  Pang. He’d gone eight days without sleep. Eight days without a kiss, a caress, or a climax. He missed the giving and receiving of pleasure as much as a limb.

  Shockingly enough, he’d begun to trust her. She’d made zero attempts to flee, and she hadn’t attacked him once. Instead, she’d protected him as if she actually…liked him.

  Did she?

  Doesn’t matter. Focus. He had a job to do. And he’d already rewarded her for her actions, allowing her to text Galen about her well-being.

  This is focusing? Mind on the matter at hand. Right. So far, Bjorn had recruited ninety-seven Warriors. Three more, and he would complete his Underworld-bound army.

  A group of twelve stood before him now, listening to his spiel. I will be fair but demanding…betrayal of any kind would not be tolerated…opportunity for advancement…

  Leema occupied a spot in the audience. When Bjorn was promoted to Elite, she had been promoted to Warrior. He’d invited others, and one of them issued the invite to her.

  Twice she’d attempted to pull him aside for a chat. The first time, he’d kindly let her down. The second, he’d been blunter. Rumor suggested she and her partner split not too long ago. He wondered if she hoped to rekindle their romance.

  How should I feel about that? He didn’t know.

  What he did know? No matter how many times his gaze returned to her, his body remained unaffected. Which surprised him. She hadn’t changed in the least. Same fall of pale hair, same golden skin. Same sparkling blue eyes and plump, pink lips. Same short but curvy figure with large breasts and wide hips. Once, he’d considered her the most beautiful female in all the worlds. Now? She did not compare to Fox, who radiated strength, admiration, and calm.

  He towered upon the dais usually reserved for the band, Fox at his side as usual. Thane and Xerxes had finished selecting their Warriors early this morning, and they flanked Fox. They watched her intently, but not with their usual malevolence. He—

  Hardened like steel when he finished his speech, and Fox rose on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear, “Why is the blonde undressing you with her gaze?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose, as if praying for patience before whispering back, “I used to date her.”

  “What!?” she blurted out. “Seriously?”

  A nod, then he resumed his speech. Half of the males and all of the females cast Fox glance after glance. Some crackled with hostility, others smoldered with curiosity. Some burned with lust. The first sparks of fury scalded his chest.

  Finally, Bjorn snaked an arm around her waist and tugged her in front of him, staking a visual claim. She leaned back, a little smug and a lot sexy, and got comfortable.

  Now everyone’s eyes widened, the crowd agape. Pointing to the males with lust in their eyes, he said, “You, you, you and you may go. I suggest you hurry.”

  The four males remained in place, frowning and glancing around, obviously confused.

  “You do not look at my wo—prisoner in such a way and receive a reward,” he grated. Had he almost referred to Fox as his woman amid a crowd of Sent Ones? Did it matter? Since he spent every waking second thinking about getting her naked, she kind of was his woman.

  “Does he need to repeat himself, or do I need to start beheading?” Thane asked with a casual tone.

  He and Xerxes stepped out of the shadows, two menacing towers of strength. The foursome jumped to their feet and raced from the nightclub
.

  “You, you and you can go, too,” Fox said, then turned her attention to Bjorn. “I could have snuck up on them at least a dozen times and slit their throats. They are too easily distracted, and they’ll cost you in battle.”

  Excellent point. When the four looked to him, as if waiting for him to admonish Fox, he didn’t hesitate to send the threesome out the door, as well.

  Leema leaped up, her chair skidding behind her. “Is she the kind of person you spend time with now? Why are you associating with her, Bjorn? You’re better than this. You know that she murdered ten of our people, yes?” Fury crackled in her voice. “She’s vile, disgusting trash and she deserves—”

  “Enough!” he roared.

  Fox tensed, only to relax a second later. He knew what that meant, and it pushed him over the edge. She’d just gone cold, probably in hopes of avoiding a well of hurt.

  “She did murder the ten,” he snarled for one and all to hear. “Something she regrets with every fiber of her being. Something I understand. I, too, have killed indiscriminately in the past, and not just during battle. Many, many species would relish my capture and punishment. How can I despise her for something I have done, as well?” Today, he’d come prepared for questions like Leema’s. He dug into his pocket and withdrew ten small pebbles. Using a play in the Sent Ones’ handbook, he tossed those pebbles at the crowd. “For those of you who have made no mistakes in your life, please, be the first to stone Fox the Executioner.”

  Silence. Not a single stone was hurled in her direction.

  Bjorn raised his chin. “Now, ask me if she cheated on the male she’s supposed to love.”

  Embarrassment burned two red spots in Leema’s cheeks. “I…you…”

  “I want you out.” He didn’t hate Leema, but he harbored no love for her, either. Not anymore. She’d done him dirty, cheating on him when cutting him loose would have been far more merciful, but he’d since moved on. However, she’d just hurt Fox and, for some reason, that particular detail pulled the pin on his temper, setting off the bomb. “You may leave. Now.”

  Jaw dropped, she gaped at him. “But. But—”

  Ignoring her, Bjorn pointed to the soldiers he thought would work best in his budding army, thereby completing his task. The unchosen hurried out of the club—everyone but Leema—the others remaining behind. “Go home and pack,” he told them. “Tomorrow, we move to Hell.”

  The chosen hurried off next, but still Leema remained behind with Bjorn, Fox, his friends, and club’s employees.

  “I think Leema hopes to watch us make out before she leaves?” Fox turned, resting her head on Bjorn’s shoulder. With one hand, she combed his hair. With the other, she traced the rim of his wings.

  He swallowed a groan, the sensations maddening. His resistance began to crumble. Would making the first move truly be such a bad thing? So he would lose their bet. So what? If she requested freedom, he could secretly tag her with a GPS chip in the back of her neck. A douche move, but at least he would always know where she was.

  No, no. Fight this. Make her crave you so desperately, she cannot think past it.

  Lowering his grip to cup her ass, he bent his head and quietly told her, “I want inside you.”

  Her breath hitched, and she jolted. Her hands stilled, her nails digging into his scalp and his feathers. Goose bumps spread over her arms, the rest of her going liquid as she melted into him. The pulse at the base of her neck raced, a mini-heartbeat.

  Seeing her reaction to his words—to him—threw kindling on the fires of his desire.

  An impatient huff brought him back to the present. They still had an audience. Right. His ex had made a derogatory statement before deciding to disobey him and remain in place.

  He glared at Leema until she got the message, lifting her chin, stomping her way out of the building. Her departure gave him no satisfaction. But he felt no guilt, either. Fact was, he couldn’t not touch Fox. If others couldn’t bear to watch, they could leave.

  Moving before him, standing on her tiptoes, and pouring her words into his ear, Fox whispered, “You’ve got a hard-on pressed against me. I’m pretty sure that makes me your meat shield.”

  His mouth curled into a half-smile. The things she said never ceased to entertain. “My apologies. I—”

  “No, you misunderstand. I like it.” She leaned into him. “I’m into it.”

  The same words she’d used during her dream. Had she, perhaps, dreamed about Bjorn?

  Even the idea excited him.

  “Besides,” she added, waggling her brows, “the time has come for a showdown. We’ve got to stop playing it safe and start playing for the win, you know?”

  He chuckled, the sound rusty. Well, not as rusty as it’d been before Fox entered his life. During the past week, she’d wrenched more smiles and laughs from him than…anyone. Ever. Now, however, the amusement was overshadowed by lust, his body on fire for her.

  “Agreed,” he croaked. Whisper-quiet, he added, “Do you surrender, then, and admit you’re ready to get rid of our guests and race to our bedroom?”

  Their bedroom? The wordage gave him pause. When had his room become their room?

  She licked her lips and said, “Do you surrender?”

  He…did. Bjorn couldn’t survive another day without staking a claim to Fox the Executioner. Mine! I will have what’s mine. Finally.

  Yes, yes. Soon, he would be gloved by her hot, wet core. He would know true satisfaction at long last. Need this. Need her. No one else would do. Not now. Not…ever?

  He traced his fingertips along Fox’s hip bone, saying to his boys, “Isn’t there something you wish to discuss with Fox?”

  “There is.” Thane raised his chin and stepped forward. “We apologize for whipping you. What you are doing for Bjorn…we cannot thank you enough.”

  Xerxes nodded in agreement. “We’ve never seen him so light or free. For that, you will forever have our support.”

  Fox shivered against him, then stilled. He suspected she had just buried her emotions—again—to avoid softening toward the males who’d harmed her, in case they ever voided said support. It was a defense mechanism, and it made his heart hurt.

  “She will consider forgiving you,” he said with a wink at her, “for one hundred thousand dollars. From each of you.”

  She gasped and jolted, zooming her gaze to him. His defense of her in front of hundreds of Sent Ones hadn’t elicited such a delighted response, and he didn’t have to wonder why. She liked that he supported her interests, liked being defended when she preferred to take care of herself. “That is, hands down, the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me.” As her eyes watered and widened, she pressed a fist above her heart. Was she too overcome with awe and admiration to continue burying her emotions?

  “I, like, need your autograph,” one of the waitresses called. Bellorie, one of his favorites, as well as Elin’s best friend. All the waitresses were her best friends, which meant Thane, and thereby Bjorn and Xerxes, guarded the females with their lives.

  “Guess what? You’re my new best friend,” another waitress said. Savy.

  The third, Octavia, grabbed a bottle of whiskey to pour shots for everyone—wrong, only for herself; she hadn’t used a shot glass, had just drunk straight from the bottle.

  Part of Bjorn wanted to linger, to give Fox a chance to befriend his friends and employees. People he greatly respected. He also hoped to give everyone a chance to get to know Fox better. They’d love her. They must. But, he’d been a live-wire of lust for eight days, and the thought of making small talk...I’d rather cut out my tongue. But he needed his tongue to win Fox. Today. Now.

  Don’t fail. Turn up the heat. “Now that apologies are done, there’s something I must discuss with Fox. If you’ll excuse us…”

  Catcalls rang out as he led Fox away, everyone shouting different encouragements.

  “Yeah, baby. I’m sure you give good discussion.”

  “Will this chit-chat involve a flesh-color
ed bullhorn with a slit in the tip?”

  “If the room is rockin’, it ain’t boots they’re knockin’.”

  Laughter joined the catcalls, but Bjorn hardly noticed. Anticipation consumed him.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Smoldering with sexual prowess, Bjorn opened the bedroom door and motioned Fox inside. She stood rooted in place, uncertain. One of them was about to lose the bet. As horny as she’d been, as horny as she was, she had a sinking suspicion the loss would go to…drum roll please…her. Fox the Executioner.

  Eight days. Eight days she had ached for this man—his dirty kisses, and his every touch—with increasing intensity. She’d dreamed of him each night while breathing in his masculine fragrance. Watched his rainbow eyes glitter with every smile. Fantasized about all the things they could do to each other. What she hadn’t done? Broken the rules. No getting herself off. The near-constant pressure had honed her body into a conduit of sensation. Aching nipples. Fluttery belly. Weak knees. Raw, primitive desire coursed through her veins, demanding a climax.

  Did she affect him as strongly?

  Does it matter? You are a passing fancy to him. A new conquest, easily had, easily forgotten. A joke. A source of amusement for years to come. Go ahead. Have sex with him. Fall in love. You deserve all the heartache headed your way.

  Ouch. Distrust went for the jugular. Fox wrapped her arms around her middle, but the action failed to help. Never had she felt so exposed, so vulnerable.

  At last, she swept past Bjorn, trembling all the while. Along the way, she brushed her hand against his robe. Or, more specifically, against the erection underneath the robe. He sucked in a breath; she swallowed a laugh, her nerves appeased. She did, in fact, affect him as strongly. Take that, Distrust. It matters!

  Tonight, Fox and Bjorn would be together, ending the week-long torment…after one of them broke, of course.

  She came to a halt at the foot of the bed, then spun to face him. Where to begin? How to make him break? So far, she’d done little to try. Because, if she won, she’d have only one real boon to request—let me go—and she hadn’t been ready to leave him. Foolish girl.