Sassy Ever After: All About That Sass (Kindle Worlds Novella) (The Pride Commands Book 1)

by Michele Bardsley

  “Of course. You’re with us now.” She pointed to her bite mark. “Remember?”

  “My brother rules the Midwest werecat colony. He won’t like this. He’s dangerous.”

  “You’re not part of that community, right?” asked Thomas.

  “I was banished, so no, the colony is not my home anymore. And never will be again.”

  “You were meant for us,” said Angela. “And we were meant for you.”

  He wanted to believe her. But he couldn’t. It was too surreal. “We don’t know anything about each other. Or if we’re compatible or if we’ll even like each other tomorrow.”

  “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. We’re together now, and that’s that.” Angela patted her tummy. “Our baby will be loved so well. Just like we love each other. Oh, look!” She hurried to the the double windows, unlatched them, and swung them open. “It’s snowing!”

  She stood there, naked and shivering, enjoying the falling snowflakes. Gareth and Thomas shared a look, mutual joy for their mate, then they, too, went to the windows and stood with her in the swirling snow, each man shielding her with his body. Gareth felt the ache he’d carried with him for so long disappear, filled by the affection and acceptance of two strangers, who were now his family.

  Gareth realized that somehow, some way, he’d found exactly where he belonged.

  PART TWO

  “Oh, she wanted him bad. More than her next breath or even more than she’d ever wanted another man in her life.”

  ~A Mate’s Bite by Milly Taiden

  Chapter Four

  Eight Months Later…

  Cyn Salais peered through the thick branches of the pine tree that hid her presence. She was twenty feet up clinging to the trunk, her feet lightly resting on a limb not quite as thick as her arm. Below her was the cozy cabin that belonged to her target, the vampire Thomas Moore.

  The wind kicked up, the first volley from the threatening storm. The branches rattled and the top of the tree swayed. Cyn readjusted her grip, inhaling the sharp sting of pine. Here in this mid-western cesspit, June meant it was unbearably hot and humid. Sweat popped out on her forehead and dribbled down her temples. Usually she wore a jacket to hide her Walther PPK snug in its shoulder holster, but she couldn’t add another layer to her long-sleeved knit shirt, jeans, and boots—all black. Her knives were hidden in their usual spots.

  The unseasonable clothing, including the gloves, was necessary for her concealment. Her skin was too pale, more a result of her declining health than lack of sunshine.

  Cyn continued to study the cabin for what seemed like the fiftieth time in two days. She’d counted three: Thomas, a werecougar, and a very pregnant human woman.

  When Cyn had had decided to take Eliza DuChamp’s offer of eternal life, she’d observed the vampires lounging around the opulent New York penthouse with humans sitting next to them like dogs on leashes. Cyn’s stomach clenched. She couldn’t imagine being a bloodsucker’s pet. It made her sick, the way that bitch Eliza kept nibbling the neck of her female slave. The poor girl was naked, and pale from blood loss. And the look in her eyes…

  Cyn shuddered.

  She returned her attention to the cabin. Her paranormal education had only begun a month ago, but even she knew the werecougar prowling the front porch was bigger than most. She watched as the massive animal padded through the open front door of the cabin. She’d seen werewolves, but this was her first shapeshifting kitty. She always knew the world was a weird place. Still, the idea humans shared the planet with supernatural creatures was more weird than she ever believed possible.

  “Fuck,” she muttered. She’d had bad odds before, but dealing with a werecougar, a vampire, and a pregnant female? Even if she managed to complete her objective and live, she still had to worry about whether or not Eliza would keep the bargain.

  Eliza was pissed off at her ex-lover for ditching her for a human woman. Not only had he dissed her by abandoning their relationship, he’d gone and committed the ultimate sin: he was creating a family. The woman’s baby couldn’t be his, of course. Vampires couldn’t breathe much less breed. If she had to guess, the werecougar and the human created the child. And her observations over the last two days had given her the impression that Thomas and the shapeshifter were both in love with the woman. She had two fierce protectors. Cyn had to take them both out.

  Not an easy task.

  Hell, maybe even an impossible one.

  But what did she have to lose?

  She needed to survive, and that meant pulling off this job for Eliza. All she had to do was kill a few people and Eliza would change her into a vampire. It wasn’t an ideal situation. But it was better than death. She was only twenty-eight, damn it. The only way for Cyn to live was to die and re-awaken as a bloodsucker. Either that, or wait for her heart to give out. Fucking cardiac tumor. The malignant mass was lodged in her heart like a living bullet—killing her day by day.

  Cyn hoped that taking out Thomas was where her obligation ended, though she suspected she’d made a deal with the devil. Eliza was not the beneficent type. Either she’d sent Cyn to her death because she loved to cause pain and misery, or she wanted to further utilize Cyn’s skills as an assassin. Screw that. No way was she gonna spend her new eternity offing the powerful vampire’s enemies. After she was changed, all she had to do was keep out of Eliza’s range. That scary bitch was cra-azy.

  Cyn studied the area surrounding the cabin. Thickly wooded, embedded at the top of a hill with a steep drive, the place was isolated. And it wasn’t exactly well protected, which would usually make it perfect for a hit. But that damned werecougar—getting him out of the way would be a pain in the ass.

  The wind was getting stronger, and in the distance, thunder cracked. The tree shook, harder this time, and Cyn’s booted feet scraped against the limb.

  It was time to put up or shut up.

  As she climbed down, she solidified her plan of action. She’d wait for the storm, which would make good cover. She’d have to draw out the shapeshifter and get him alone. After dispatching him, she would sneak into the cabin and kill Thomas. She’d figure out something for the female. It wasn’t that Cyn was opposed to killing women. Putting down any living thing because death was the better option, well, that made her stomach cramp. Hey, even she’d cried at the end of “Old Yeller.” But she wouldn’t kill a mother and her child, even though Eliza had demanded it as part of their deal.

  Jesus. She’d thought humans were the biggest assholes on the planet. Then she’d met Eliza and entered a whole new world of cruelty.

  Cyn was an expert at hand-to-hand combat and knife fights; her father had made sure of that. Still, her Walther PPK with its suppressor was a far better tool for murder.

  Unless the target was a vampire.

  Yeah, silver hurt vampires, but not even silver bullets would kill them instantly. She’d learned about a rare poison mixed with silver flakes supposedly fatal to vamps, but she didn’t know how to get hold of it or how it was administered. She preferred more foolproof methods. Poison had too many variables, not least of which was the quality of the death. She killed people, yeah. Honestly, most of her targets deserved killing. But that didn’t mean she made them suffer.

  Her policy? Quick. Clean. Done.

  Cutting off a vampire’s head wasn’t even a surety. If the head came in contact with the neck, it could suture back together. Yeah. That info had freaked her. But whack through the neck with a pure silver blade… then the fanged one was toast.

  She’d been given the short sword forged from pure silver, save for its hilt which was made from Red Quebrancho—one of the hardest woods in the world. The short sword was the only insurance she had for incapacitating paranormal beings. Granted, shifters reacted more violently to the substance, but it took a lot of silver to kill them. And silver had to stay in contact with the shifter for a long time.

  At least that’s what her sources had told her. She’d never killed vampires or
shifters, so she didn’t have firsthand knowledge of their weaknesses, much less the death knells of either species. She wasn’t exactly feeling her best, not with her ticker failing, and going into a new situation with this much risk … well, it was no wonder she felt foreboding lining her guts like lead.

  She stopped lollygagging on the last limb, and jumped to the ground. Her arsenal included her usual weaponry, along with the short sword, which hung in its scabbard on her left hip. It wasn’t heavy, unlike the burden of her debt to Eliza.

  According to the rumors in the paranormal community, the last time a bloodsucker betrayed Eliza, the dude had been dismembered and his head had been stuck on a pike and kept in the vampire bitch’s bedroom.

  Yuck.

  It was one thing to kill, and another to bask in the aftermath of murder. That was the difference between Cyn and a serial killer. That, and the money. She never did a hit for free. And never, ever for jollies. Some people were just sick.

  Cyn leaned against the tree, and took a moment to gather her thoughts. Immediately, her mind opened the door to that night in New Orleans. She’d been in her hotel room, pacing and crying, and Eliza had just … appeared.

  She still didn’t know how Eliza had found her. New Orleans had been one of Cyn’s bases of operation, and that was where she’d gotten the diagnosis. Then boom! The next night, Eliza showed up and spouted off ridiculous crap like “I’m a vampire.”

  Then she’d proven it. Eliza had opened the door into a whole new world—a world in which Cyn could live. And she had badly wanted to live.

  After a month of hanging out with vampires, even with the occasional atrocities, she hadn’t been turned off enough by the lifestyle to chuck it as an option. Just because other vampires acted like they owned the afterlife didn’t mean she had to do the same. There were ways to ingest blood that didn’t include killing innocents. She’d spent a good deal of her time putting bullets into skulls, but she’d chosen her jobs, and could say that most of her targets had been real dickheads.

  So thirty days with the vamps, and she’d figured she knew enough about them and shifters to get the job done. It wasn’t like she had forever to plan and execute. The doc hadn’t been able to pinpoint exactly how long she had to keep breathing. Three months, if you’re lucky, he’d said. I’m sorry.

  Now, that meant two months. Maybe. Probably less.

  The evening before she left, Eliza gave her the silver sword in its scabbard. “Bring this back to me along with proof of Thomas’ death,” she said, “and you’ll get your reward.”

  The word “reward” had the same omnious resonance as “death,” and Cyn had thought about rejecting Eliza’s sword outright. Still, she tamped down the impulse. If her father had taught her nothing else, it was to think before she acted. But Eliza had seen Cyn’s hesitation.

  “You think you can kill a vampire with mere bullets?” Eliza’s voice had gone soft, seductive. “Who do you think cornered the silver market? Shifters. They control silver because it’s the one substance that can harm them. It doesn’t stop peddlers from selling fakes. Sometimes, there’s actual silver in them, but that hardly matters. Only pure silver rounds will affect shifters … or vampires.”

  Damn. Eliza knew that Cyn had purchased silver bullets. Or thought she had. “You want me to owe you a favor for the sword,” she’d said flatly. “I’m already taking out your enemy.”

  “In exchange for eternal life. Now, I’m doing another favor for you.” She smiled, revealing sharp fangs. “And you owe me one in return,” she said. “That’s how you survive in this world. Remember that.” She’d flickered like an image on a bad film reel, and disappeared.

  Cyn had packed the sword.

  If Cyn could kill Thomas with her bare hands or any of her weapons, she would’ve told Eliza to shove that sword right up her undead ass. God. She didn’t want to owe Eliza anymore than she already did. If the silver blade was the only way to take out a vampire or a shifter, then Cyn had no choice.

  Oh, what was she worried about? If Cyn died doing this gig it would be no worse than dying because of a heart tumor. Going out quick would be a mercy. Better than waiting for her heart to give out.

  Cyn inhaled a cleansing breath then blew it out slowly. After a minute of deep breathing and focusing on the first task of the job, she used the trees for cover and headed toward the cabin.

  Chapter Five

  “Maybe we should shift back into cougars,” said Aris. “Sitting here naked is kinda stupid.”

  “It was your idea to go human for a while.” Kane leaned against another tree, taking in everything around them. “We agreed no clothes until the mission is over. We’ve destroyed enough garments on this trip.”

  “I wish I’d brought more underwear. I’m down to one pair of boxers.”

  Kane laughed, and it was good to hear the sound. Not that Kane was ever the life of the party. He didn’t find much humor in life; in fact, Aris was one of the few people who could get the man to crack a smile.

  “We’ll hit the Wal-Mart after we’re done here, okay?”

  “Are you sure there’s not a Neiman Marcus nearby?”

  Kane rolled his eyes. “For a warrior, you worry too much about your wardrobe.”

  “When you look good, you feel good.”

  “Unfortunately for you, this town is too small to have a high-end clothing stores. They have a Wal-Mart. Deal.”

  “Ugh.”

  They’d been roaming the area in their cougar forms waiting for the storm to let loose. Aris had gotten bored, and shifted into his human form. After Kane shifted, too, and had bitched about him breaking cover, he decided that maybe it would be all right to hang out naked in the forest. Kane wouldn’t admit it, but Aris’s more relaxed attitude occasionally rubbed off on him. Besides, they were alone out here except for some woodland rodents, and nobody in the cabin had a clue that warriors were waiting for an opportunity to kill the werecougar inside.

  Aris re-positioned himself against the wide base of the oak tree. The bark made his skin itch. From their vantage point, they could see the back of the cabin. The brewing storm was rumbling louder now, and he could smell the change in the air. It would rain soon, and then, they would sneak inside and do their duty as warriors.

  Aris felt sick about the whole thing.

  Killing Gareth Harper sucked ass.

  “Craig will be pissed when we tell ‘em that we tore out his brother’s throat.”

  “He did not forbid us,” said Kane, though his voice was edged in worry. “And no matter what Craig says about Gareth, he should be killed honorably.”

  The fact that Kane was going against the spirit of their leader’s orders obviously bothered him. But at the end of the day, Kane stuck by his own principles, even if they clashed with the powers-that-be. It was a quality that Aris admired, when it wasn’t irritating the fuck out of him.

  Kane was was ten years older, thirty-four to his twenty-four. In human years. Werecougar years were another matter entirely. The man was 6’6” and built like an ancient oak. Hard-fought battles had robbed the warrior of his ability to breed. With Aris, a genetic anomaly had taken away his fertility. One of the reasons Kane and Aris had become such good friends, aside from the fact that Kane had trained Aris as a warrior, was that neither one could have children. Unfortunately, it also meant that mating was out of the question. No werecougar in her prime wanted infertile mates. For all intents and purposes, Kane and Aris were pariahs, even though they still lived within Craig’s territory and had pledged their loyalty to him.

  Fat lot of good it did us.

  Craig cared nothing for their plight—until Gareth’s location had become known. To gain their cooperation he offered the one thing they’d both been denied: a mate. One to share, but so what? He and Kane had shared before. The woman in question had already bore children who were now adults, and had been widowed a year earlier. She’d agreed to take both of their mating bites and let them claim her. In a way, she was mu
ch like them. Since she was no longer useful to the colony—at least in their leader’s eyes—she was easy to sacrifice.

  So were they.

  That’s why Craig had sent them to kill his younger brother. If they failed and died, it wouldn’t be a loss. If they succeeded, then great, no valued warriors would have to be sent to finish the job.

  He didn’t like Craig. Neither did Kane.

  Yet, here they were.

  Aris sighed. Kane had been secretive lately, and he wasn’t exactly a sharer of his feelings. Aris didn’t go around spouting poetry or reading self-help books, but he also wasn’t as internal as Kane. Something big was bothering the older man and Aris knew from experience there was no getting it out of him.

  Aris picked up a rock and tossed it from hand to hand. He was getting antsy again. They’d checked out the place last night, figured out how to get in, gone over the plan a billion times. Booooring.

  “Gareth is already banned. Why bother killing him now?” he asked idly.

  “If he hadn’t put his seed into a human, he’d still be waking up tomorrow morning.”

  “I don’t get it. Humans have had shifter babies before.”

  “Craig’s blood is royal. So is his brother’s. I don’t think our esteemed leader likes the idea that his precious family line would be diluted by human blood. And the fact that Gareth has aligned himself with a vampire doesn’t help, either.”

  Aris dropped the pebble he’d been messing with. He wanted to hit something: the tree, the ground, the smug face of Craig Harper. He’d invited them to his luxe home in the middle of nofuckingwhere and assigned them the task of killing Gareth. He hated how Craig put politics and nonsensical dictates before the welfare of his people. Or so it seemed to Aris.

  But not to Kane. Kane, who followed the regs every single day of his life. Kane was consistent. He was steady. He was thoughtful. He planned.

  Aris… not so much.

  Aris glanced at Kane, who was staring at him and frowning. Well, he could frown all he wanted. He had doubts about this course of action, too.