The Darkest Assassin

by Gena Showalter

  What!? “Are we talking Lucifer, Prince of Darkness, adopted son of Hades, brother to William the Ever Randy? Or some poor bastard who got stuck with the worst name of all time?”

  “Prince of Darkness.” Bjorn pinched and lifted a lock of Fox’s hair, tracing the end against his cheek. “Took her centuries, but she ultimately escaped him. She claims she will never return to Hell, not for any reason.”

  Fox knew girl-code, which meant she knew the translations for Alana’s vow. This bitch gonna be coming for her hubby in Hell. Jaw clenched, she said, “Do you believe everything she says, Ofalana?”

  He frowned. “Ofalana? What does that mean?”

  Rather than explaining the intricacies of sexual subjugation in The Handmaid’s Tale, she said, “I’ve never asked you for anything, Bjorn. Not anything important, anyway.”

  “I know. You do not ask. You issue demands.”

  “Are you complaining?” she asked, one brow arched. “No, seriously. Are you? Maybe give me a list with my worst traits, and I’ll work on—”

  “You misunderstand.” Bjorn rolled her over, his heavy weight settling atop her, stopping her flow of verbal diarrhea. “I’m thanking you. Social cues are not my talent, and your forthrightness puts me at ease.”

  She fluffed her hair, feigning nonchalance. Meanwhile, she squealed like a fangirl inside her head. Too many people overlooked the value of comfort, calling it “boring.” Not Fox. When you’d been uncomfortable for the bulk of your life, you clung to whatever security, reassurance, or encouragement you could find.

  “I think someone has a serious case of Foxitis, and I’m here for it.” Trying for flirtatious—probably achieving creepy—she batted her lashes at him. “You trusted me with your army. Trust me with Alana’s coordinates, and I’ll make you glad you did.”

  Bjorn drew in a deep breath, then held it for an endless eternity. After exhaling slowly, he told her, “I’m not just married to Alana.” Shame coated his voice. “I’m bonded to her; my life-force is tied to hers.”

  The admission lashed like a whip—and Fox should know! “So, Alana isn’t just a bitch. She’s a straight-up POS.” No doubt the queen had forced that bond to prevent Bjorn’s friends from avenging his mistreatment. Whatever injuries one spouse received, the other endured as well. “I’m a Gatekeeper, Bjorn. Do you know what that means?”

  “Only that you can open portals to any location.”

  There was so much more to it than that. Toying with the ends of his hair, she said, “I’ve visited more worlds, realms and dimensions than anyone else on the planet. One of those worlds is Phantasia. The citizens are phantom-like. They can reach inside your body to unwind, detach and remove any mystical bonds, then patch up the damage left behind.”

  His eyes widened. “Like surgery on your spirit.”

  “Exactly.” There were dangers, of course, but the rewards far outweighed the risks. “Problem is, time passes differently on Phantasia. Spending one day there would cost us a decade here.”

  Disappointment etched every line of his face. “Unless I’m willing to fall, I cannot spare a decade until the war in the Underworld ends.”

  Bjorn, a Fallen One…nope. No way. A life devoid of his brothers by circumstance, immortality, wings and mission to kill as many demons as possible would only lead to unfulfillment and regret. “Then we take out Alana today, and you immediately bond to me.” Her cheeks burned with heat. “Or anyone! Whomever you prefer. Someone who will agree.” Ugh. Did she want a permanent bond with Bjorn? Maybe. Maybe not. The new one would infuse him with new strength. In theory. “That option is a lot more dangerous, though. The longer a marital bond is in place, the stronger it becomes. There’s no way the new one will be as potent as the old. Still, you’re stubborn and mighty, and the odds are in your favor.” Again, in theory.

  Expression alternating from hopeful to hopeless, he shifted to the side. His shaft rubbed between her legs, sending a spear of pleasure to her belly, her breasts, and her mind. In that order. Mmm. Focus!

  “Why aid me in such a way?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

  Holding his gaze, refusing to look away, she admitted, “I like you. I like being with you, and I want to keep being with you. Plus, I plan to do anything and everything to make up for my actions. This is a good place to start.”

  His features softened. His body softened. Well, everywhere but his fun zone. “You are forgiven, vixen. What I failed to remember the day we met? Everyone makes mistakes. And just because you welcomed the demon doesn’t mean you are happy about the choice you made. You hate him. You fight him daily. You learn from your mistakes and work to do better. To be better. Something only a rare few do. You are one of the rare few, and that should be praised, not punished.”

  Her eyes burned as if she—no. No way. No way she teared up like a pansy. “What will happen if you’re told to kill me?”

  He stiffened but said, “Your execution will be stayed. I know it.”

  “But what if it’s not?” Sent Ones were stubborn. “I need a plan B, C and D.” Also, a plan E, F, G, H, I, J, K, L, M, N, O, P, Q, R, S, T, U, V, W, X, and Y wouldn’t hurt, either. A girl couldn’t be too careful. And, yes, she’d purposely left off Z. As a letter, Z sucked. End my alphabet? Go screw yourself.

  A muscle jumped in Bjorn’s jaw. “Did you sleep with me merely to ensure I would keep you safe?”

  Ugh. One day. One day soon, hopefully, he would think the best of her rather than the worst. “Would I sleep with you to survive? Yes.” Moving quickly, she grabbed a pillow and bashed his face. “But I didn’t. I wanted you more than anyone ever. I know you don’t believe me—yet—but I’m not deceiving you, and I’m not going to betray you.”

  The jumping muscle gradually slowed, and he expelled a heavy breath. “I’m trusting you, Fox. Not just with my life, but with the lives of my cherished friends. Heed your own words, and do not betray me.” His tone hardened at the end.

  “I’m not going to betray you,” she repeated, and she meant it. “After last night, you earned a spot on my coveted Never Harm list.”

  He grinned, the sight nearly her undoing, and kissed her temple. “You may change your mind. I should have told you sooner. Should have apologized. But, the day Alana visited, I saw a memory from your past. I’m not sure how, or why.”

  Knew it. A lump grew in her throat. “What did you see?”

  “You were a little girl, starved and dirty, wandering the streets. A soldier dragged you to a dark alley and ripped your clothes.” He pressed his lips into a thin line as black spread through his irises, turning the rainbow into an endless abyss.

  The change proved astonishing and wild, nothing “True Dread” about it. It spoke of primitive desires and raw need, his every emotion clearly heightened.

  “Did you see what happened after?” she asked.

  He gave a terse shake of his head.

  “I killed him before he could do what he wanted. Even as a child, I could open portals. I wasn’t very good at it, wasn’t very powerful, but I could do it unless stressed. I was stressed that day, obviously, but I managed to open and close a small one around his ankle, amputating his entire foot. While he screamed with pain, I took his sword and beheaded him. He was my first kill.”

  “Good girl.” Bjorn bent his head to kiss her brow. “So, how did I see the memory?”

  “I fed you my blood.” When he jolted, she rushed to add, “You had just returned from your meeting with Alana, and you were in incredible pain. My blood is supercharged and helped you heal at a faster rate for roughly twenty-four hours. The memory was a side-effect.”

  As she spoke, he stared at her mouth, his irises sizzling hotter and hotter. Voice low and throaty, he said, “So I will see more of your memories if I consume more of your blood?”

  “Correct.” Wait. “Do you want to see more of my memories?”

  “I do.” He nodded for emphasis. “You remain a mystery to me, and I will enjoy learning all your secrets.”

>   Bjorn, intrigued by her. Her! She shivered. “I’m like a candy store. Open for a select clientele, sometimes sweet, sometimes tart—just depends on what you’re in the mood for—and always the leading cause of heart disease among immortals.” She gently pinched the lobe of his ear. “You can ask me anything.”

  He smiled with ease, no more twitching. “Before we had sex, you told me you couldn’t get pregnant. How is that possible?”

  Had sex on the brain, did he? Oh, yeah. He did. Her body cradled his, and she felt his every reaction. He hardened; she shivered again.

  “Gatekeepers are only fertile once a year,” she said, “and only for four weeks at a time. Which could be the reason we’re near extinction. Any other questions?”

  “Not at the moment. I have…other things on my mind.”

  “Like?” she prompted.

  “Like our upcoming move to Hell.”

  She waited for him to continue. He didn’t. At first, she pouted. Then she wiggled beneath him. There we go. He sucked in a breath.

  “That’s it?” she asked, all teasing and temptation. “Nothing else consumes your thoughts?”

  His eyelids turned heavy, sinking low over his eyes. “Perhaps I…the feel of your body gloving mine…”

  “Shhh. Too much talking.” Fighting a smile, she combed her fingers through his hair. “I’ve got a better use for our mouths.”

  * * * *

  The next day

  A bead of sweat trickled down Fox’s spine. “So, this is Hell,” she muttered. Or rather, one of ten territories in Hell.

  Earlier today, Bjorn had asked her to open a portal to this very spot. One by one, his soldiers had rushed through. Then Thane’s. Then Xerxes’. She’d had to keep the portal open for hours, a first for her.

  Bjorn had remained next to her. Toward the end, she’d been so drained, he’d had to hold her up. Finally, he’d ordered her to close the portal. She’d protested. The last section of Warriors hadn’t made it through, but he’d insisted.

  Then, the argument ended…because she’d passed out, exhausted…only to awaken inside a completed cabin, alone, next to a note.

  Because of your portal, we were the first to arrive in Hell. We had our pick of territories, and I owe you thanks. Which I will give as soon as I return…and you’re naked. If you’re reading this, I’m somewhere outside helping my soldiers get settled. For safety reasons, I ask that you stay put. Please? Yours, Bjorn. P.S. I’ve taken your weapons.

  She heaved a sigh, her shoulders rolling in. He didn’t trust her, and she understood, but it still hurt like a punch to the gut. Would he ever trust her? Was he ashamed of their budding relationship? Or maybe just Fox herself? Maybe he didn’t want his peers to know he cared about her?

  That hurt, too. Actually, that hurt worse.

  She stepped outside, the breeze sweltering and scented with sulfur, and studied her surroundings. This territory happened to be owned by Hades, one of the nine Kings of the Underworld. His son, William of the Dark—aka the Ever Randy, the Panty Melter, and a prince of darkness—often stayed here, in a massive fortress made from brimstone and gold. The home of my dreams. In the backyard, there was a boarded-up stable also made of brimstone and gold.

  As hundreds of Sent Ones erected cabins all around the stable, whispers abounded. Ultimately, she concluded William kept a young woman locked in the stable. Some claimed she possessed a beauty beyond imagining. Others called her plain. Some said she had blue hair. Others said pink or white. Some said she had brown eyes. Others said green or blue. Everyone agreed she had to be something special to obsess the Ever Randy, who liked to select a new lover every night.

  Uh, maybe he had multiple women in there? One way or another, Fox would find out. For the right price, she would free the woman/women…and, depending on her/their attitude, either sell her/them back to William or escort her/them to—

  No, no, no. Stop! Fox had traveled here for Bjorn, not a job. Besides, she owed him. Big time. By fighting to save her life, he’d put his reputation on the line. From now on, her actions would be a reflection upon him. She had to behave.

  Determination rooted in her heart as she studied the remaining terrain. Smoke and soot covered the ground. A ground that spontaneously spit streams of fire into the air, turning the area into an oven. There wasn’t a single plant or weed in the vicinity. No signs of life, period. Unless she counted the demons hiding around the property, spying on the Sent Ones.

  Suddenly, the fine hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention, and she frowned. Feeling as if she were being watched, Fox scanned the area—there. Him. Those little hairs practically vibrated. With white-gold braids and skin to match, he had a distinct appearance she would have remembered if ever they’d met. Which meant, they hadn’t met. However, he’d clearly heard of her. He stood a hundred yards away, glaring as if she’d murdered his cat.

  Note to self: I should get a cat. Though she wanted one, badly, she refused to repeat her mistake with Tawny, living in fear that an enemy would strike at the animal just to hurt her. But, now that she and Bjorn were together, her pet could have Sent One protection twenty-four-seven.

  Wait. Was she together with Bjorn?

  They’d never had a talk about their relationship. She knew he desired her sexually, knew he had fun with her. Did he think about her when they were apart, the way she thought about him? He must.

  Had he truly forgiven her for her past actions? Surely. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have slept with her. Right? Right. On the other hand, he’d left her defenseless, so, how much did he really care for her?

  Would he get in trouble with his bosses for dating a war-criminal? Probably. Had he fallen for her even a little? Please, please, please.

  Where was he now, exactly? I miss him.

  Ugh. What kind of romantic loser had she become?

  Pounding footsteps yanked her from the mental Q and A. And subsequent pity party. The male who’d glared at her stomped across the sea of Warriors, supplies, and cabins, radiating menace. The tips of his white-gold wings dragged the ground, collecting soot.

  Part of her longed to face off with him. But…what if he was related to one of the ten? He deserved a chance to spew his fury, and she deserved the rancor. The other part of her demanded she honor Bjorn’s wishes and go inside to avoid making a scene. If the man threw a punch at her, she’d have to block…and fight back. He could get hurt, and she’d have an eleventh casualty to add to her tally of wrongdoings.

  Sighing, she backed up, one, two, three steps. After passing the open door, she kicked it shut. Now what?

  The cabin had three rooms—a living room, a kitchenette, a bathroom, and a bedroom with a second, private bathroom—but few furnishings. Only two love seats for gamers, a TV with multiple streaming services already programmed in, and a bed.

  Her heart raced. Had he gotten the chairs and TV for her?

  No way he’s ashamed of me. Fox grinned from ear to ear. Perhaps she’d re-watch an old season of Big Brother, then do a little internet trolling. Could you get wi-fi in Hell?

  If not, she could open a quick portal to her home, where she kept an antenna she’d built with magical wire able to power anything, anywhere, at any time. Why not fetch the antenna, anyway? It’d come in handy in other ways.

  Problem: she tried to open a portal and failed.

  Fox ran her tongue over her teeth. Once again, Bjorn had done something to negate her ability, which meant he trusted her less than she’d thought. Another gut punch. But again, she understood. She really did. And she would fight, fight so hard to win him over. Giving up wasn’t an option. She—

  The door swung open, the white-gold-haired man stomping inside. Great! Thanks to Bjorn, she had no weapons, and no way to open a portal. Isn’t life grand?

  Without looking away from Fox, he kicked the door shut, shaking the entire cabin. He held a dagger in each hand, the metal glinting in the light.

  Her heartbeat sped up, sending a prickle of unease down her
spine. She raised her chin and squared her shoulders, going cold. The best—only—way to battle.

  Must kill him before he kills you, Distrust whispered.

  She ground her teeth. Exactly what the demon said when she’d faced the ten.

  Ignore him! Easier said than done. Flippant, she asked, “Did you hear about my sale and come running? Well, you should have brought a friend. For a limited time, I’m giving two spankings away for the price of one!”

  Rage mottled his face. Guess I’ll call him Mr. Rage.

  He pointed a dagger tip at her. “I do not know how you convinced a male as honorable as Bjorn to spare your life, and it doesn’t matter. I will stop you, and one day, he will thank me.”

  Mr. Rage lunged for her, swiping the daggers in her direction.

  Fox jumped backward, avoiding a strike. But, unused to the home’s layout, she slammed the backs of her knees into a recliner, and fell. Damn it! Before she could jump up, Mr. Rage flared his wings and spun.

  Contact. A sharp sting erupted in her cheek, and blood dripped down her chin. Realization: There were hard, razor-sharp hooks hidden beneath his feathers, and she’d just gotten a taste of their capabilities.

  He spun again, no doubt intending to run a hook across her vulnerable throat. Reflexes on point, she pulled the lever on the chair, whooshing back. The hooks missed her face by half an inch. At the same time, she grabbed a fistful of feathers and yanked.

  He howled. She grinned.

  She kicked out her legs, nailing his man-junk. Air left his lungs in a mighty heave as he hunched over. She kneed his chin. He bellowed in pain and stumbled backward. As she stood, he planted his sandaled feet against the wood floor and hurled a dagger at her.

  A pained gasp parted her lips, the blade embedding in her collarbone. Trembling, queasy, she yanked it free. Ow, ow, ow. Despite a surge of adrenaline, the pain proved agonizing. Black dots wove through her vision. A river of hot blood ran down her chest. Had the blade hit a few inches down, he would have sliced open her heart.