The Darkest Assassin: A Lords of the Underworld Novella

by Gena Showalter

  “You are not wrong.”

  Gah! Did he have to be so reasonable? “But I’m sorry for what you must have suffered. No doubt you fought to escape every minute of every day.”

  “I did.”

  “So why are you chastising me for doing the same?”

  His brow furrowed. “I cast no blame. I understand why you do what you do.”

  Great! Wonderful! More reasonableness. And she liked it—she liked him more by the second. At this rate, I’ll be in love by tomorrow night. “I have no problem escaping naked, baby.” Truth. “You’ve seen me, right? I’d be doing any witnesses a favor.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “I cannot argue your point.”

  Smart man. “So, if you want to head off any escape plans, you’ll have to meet my demands.”

  He stiffened but said, “And what are those demands, hmm?”

  “For starters, I require a cell phone. Galen and Legion must be worried out of their minds.”

  An-n-nd he got stiffer. “I will contact Galen on your behalf.”

  “Not good enough.”

  “And yet it’s as good as it’s going to get.” Bjorn took her hand, something he’d done before. This time, he linked their fingers, as if they were partners working together, versus a captor leading his captive.

  Her heart nearly burst from her chest.

  He escorted her to the closet, where he donned a robe and gifted her with a clean white T-shirt and—surprise, surprise—a thong, the butt floss of underwear.

  Normally, she would rather go panty-less than don a stupid thong. But. She remembered his reaction to the last pair, and couldn’t resist taunting and tempting Bjorn with another.

  Wait. A thought hit, and she shuddered. “Where did you get the thong? Because, if you gave me someone else’s undergarments and I come down with panty crickets, I will choke you with your own intestines!”

  He snorted. “I sent a Downfall employee out to shop for you. Every article of clothing is new.”

  That snort…utterly adorable. But, gah! She must be making serious moon eyes at him right now. How embarrassing for her.

  What if he took a scheme from your playbook and now hopes to make you fall in love with him, so you’ll do whatever he asks?

  Ugh. She could always count on Distrust to ruin her day. Ignore the fiend, and enjoy Bjorn while you can. “What’d you put on that shopping list, exactly?”

  One corner of his mouth twitched again, making her heart skip a beat. “The list had one notation—undergarments, with two sub-notations.”

  “Let me guess. Sexy and sheer?”

  “And make you feel like an object? Hardly. I asked for as little material as possible. You know, for your comfort. And airy, so you wouldn’t get overheated.”

  A laugh bubbled up. She’d never seen this playful, teasing side of him. I am living for it!

  Just like that, he went still, not even seeming to breathe. He stared at her with…awe? Whatever it was, it caused the air to crackle with awareness. She labored for every breath.

  Distrust hissed. Such a fool! You long to bed him now so he can kill you later? Run! Or suffer the—

  Shut up! If she fled in fear, she would never know what could have been.

  Oh…crap. What could have been. She’d never planned to escape him, had she? Not really. She’d merely needed an excuse to try and build something with him. She was a fool.

  Like they would ever be able to make a relationship work. Deep down, whether he admitted it or even realized it, a part of him would forever resent her for the harm she’d caused his people. And she would never be happy with a man who resented her as much as he wanted her. Not long-term. So, she’d have to enjoy him while she could, and do a better job of guarding her heart. No more softening! And maybe no sex, period. But orgasms were fine. Better than fine.

  Anyway. Unless and until he agreed not to imprison her, she would willingly stay with him. After all, she owed the Sent Ones a debt. If given half a chance, she would help during their war.

  Decision made, she shimmied into the thong, pulling the material up her legs. Bjorn’s pupils expanded, a puff of air parting his lips. Well, well. From now on, consider her the #1 fan of thongs.

  “Be honest,” she said, looping the hem of her shirt through the collar, creating a half-shirt. Then she turned to display her spectacular ass. “Do these panties make my butt look amazing…or magnificent?”

  Voice like smoke and gravel, he offered, “Amazingly magnificent. If I didn’t have one hundred Warriors to recruit—something you made me forget—I would toss you onto the bed and go for round two.”

  Don’t ask to go with him. Don’t you dare. Instead, she opened her mouth to graciously accept his compliment. “Why don’t I accompany you?” Argh!

  “You may,” he offered while strapping a pair of sandals to his feet. The fact that the affirmation wasn’t accompanied by a caveat or thirty… “But I’m not going out today. Just pouring through a bunch of books with names.”

  Fox got stuck on his first two words, reeling after a punch of shock, a kick of awe, and a double jab-jab of excitement. “I want to be sure I understand this correctly. Tomorrow you plan on taking me out in public, where I will socialize with Sent Ones at your side. You’re trusting me not to portal away for good?” Would she regain her ability once she left this stronghold? “You’re trusting me not to portal you and your chosen ones to dangerous terrain and leave you? And since we’re on the subject of portals, why can’t I open one here?”

  “I’m not trusting you, no. I’m testing you. There’s a difference.” He pinched a lock of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “Flunk my test, and suffer the consequences. Get an A and earn my trust.”

  So…a game. Fun! “Oh! I should warn you. While you’re testing me, I’ll be charging you. I expect a daily wage for staying by your side, and a bonus for every portal I open. My friends and family discount is ten thousand dollars per eight-hour shift. Therefore, you’ll owe me twenty thousand a shift. I expect tips.”

  The mouth twitching started up again, and damn, it was a gorgeous sight. “I do not receive a lover’s discount?”

  “Maybe if you put out more.”

  Twitch, twitch.

  “Also,” she continued, “I’ll be testing you, too.” She stepped into his personal space to pat his cheek. “Don’t give me a reason to ditch you and—spoiler alert—I won’t ditch you. Give me a reason, and you’ll suffer the consequences. Meaning, no access to my goods.”

  “Is that so?” He clasped her wrist, yanked her against the hard line of his body, and forced her arm behind her back. Her spine arched, thrusting her breasts against his chest. “Shall we play a game, then? You will tempt me sexually, and I will tempt you. The first one to cave—without self-pleasuring—loses. Winner receives a boon of his—”

  “Her,” she interjected.

  “—his choice. Deal?”

  Bjorn, doing his best to seduce her…

  Fox, doing her best to seduce him…

  She’d get to put her hands all over him and say the most suggestive things, all in the name of a game… Yes, please. Sign me up. “Before I agree to your game, you must agree to my payment plan.”

  He arched a brow. “You are that in love with money and control?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m more in love with money and control than anything ever.” Why deny it?

  To her bafflement, his expression softened. He tenderly smoothed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Very well. I agree to your payment plan. But you must help me study tonight.”

  Her chest clenched. Why had he softened? Why hadn’t he tried to negotiate the extreme prize? Whatever the reason, it only made her like him more. Wait. A thought occurred to her. “You put on your shoes to study?”

  “I did. You’ll be showering soon, and you never know when an enemy will kick down a door to fight you.”

  She snorted. Then she held out of her hand and said, “We’ve got ourse
lves a deal.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bjorn spent the entire night with Fox. First they’d studied at his desk, then they’d climbed into bed, laying side-by-side. He maintained his distance, certain he would be the one to cave—again—if they touched even the slightest bit. A truly torturous experience for him. The best and worst night of his life.

  He tossed and turned, tormented by arousal and the sounds she made while she slumbered. Breathy moans, soft purrs, and raspy gasps. A few times, she even talked in her sleep. Silly things he would love to hear again in context. Like: Go ahead. I’m into it. And: I don’t have a dollar. I don’t even have a penny.

  He’d chuckled then, and he chuckled now. He’d grown to appreciate her love of money; it was her way of showing people how much she cared, especially when she locked down her emotions. She let her actions speak for her. He admired her survivor-by-proxy mentality, the preservation of her friends more important to her than the preservation of self. What Bjorn did not like about that fact? The one she adored above all others. Galen. The male continued to blow up Bjorn’s cell with death threats.

  According to Thane, Galen had shown up at the Downfall last night. If Bjorn had been present, they would have come to blows. And he knew beyond a doubt Fox would have sided with the winged blond. Bjorn bit the inside of his cheek, tasting blood.

  He peered at her sleeping form, and his mental chaos died down. How? How did she affect him so strongly? He craved Fox, and Fox alone. No other would do. No one else tasted as sweet, or fit him so perfectly, as if she’d been created just for him. The missing puzzle piece his life so desperately needed to be complete. But that couldn’t be right. The two of them could never make something work long-term.

  The bed shook as Fox began to stretch. Arms overhead, back arching. Was she soon to awaken? He tensed with excitement.

  That excitement blossomed as she fluttered open her eyes, then jolted upright. Not clasping her by the waist and yanking her against him required every ounce of his strength. Rumpled dark hair framed an exquisite face he would forever see in his dreams.

  “Good morning,” he said. He was propped up against the headboard, the sheet bunched at his waist. He wore no robe, no shirt, his chest on display…and he caught himself flexing for her. Anything to tempt his vixen to make the first move, so he could win their bet.

  He knew the moment she recalled their bargain. Heat flushed her cheeks, and her eyes narrowed. She traced a fingertip between her breasts and said, “Good morning, baby. See anything you want? I’m running a buy one climax, get one free special.”

  He shot harder than steel. “What a coincidence. I’m running the same special.”

  She laughed, the sound raspy from slumber. Why had he made a bet that involved keeping his hands to himself, anyway? No longer celibate, he longed to do anything and everything with Fox, his chosen partner. Craved contact and communion. Meaning, yes, he should have sunk inside her while he’d had the chance.

  Need to get inside her.

  She rubbed at her eyes, cast him a glare, as if every problem in every part of the world stemmed from him, then stumbled out of bed. “What’s on the agenda today?” she grumbled.

  Not a morning person? Or just as needy as he was and trying to hide it? He worked to subdue a smile, then had to work to hold back a frown. Why did he find every aspect of her personality so charming?

  “I must meet with the Sent Ones I hope to recruit for my army of one hundred.”

  Worry flitted over her expression. “Right.”

  That worry… She expected him to put her back in the dungeon. He should. He knew he should. Yet, he’d rather have her where she belonged—at his side.

  My side? Mine? The thought should have panicked him, blown his mind, something! Instead, he nodded as if it were the most natural thought in the world.

  As they readied for the day, brushing their teeth side by side, showering together, changing clothes, they barely spoke and hardly touched. But. Words and touches weren’t necessary for seduction. The heated way she looked at him…the heated way he must be looking at her. His heart raced, the rest of him overheating.

  Temptation almost proved too, well, tempting.

  Naked, she rooted through the clothing he’d fetched for her. She bent over. Arched her back. Made her breasts bounce. All the while, he sweated as if he’d entered a sauna while wearing sweatpants and a coat. Ultimately, she selected a black tank and matching leathers.

  Gothic chic was a good look for her. Very good.

  Who was he kidding? Everything looked good on her.

  When she plaited her hair, gothic morphed into mythological warrior goddess, and he seethed with arousal. Had anyone ever appeared so tough yet delicate? So arresting? So enchanting?

  He cursed. As he’d waxed poetic about her appearance, he’d missed which undergarments she’d selected. Another thong, just to push him over the edge?

  A moan escaped him. If he kept up this line of thought, he’d have to deal with a robe tent situation. He just…craved her more with every second that passed. He needed contact with her.

  Resisted all facets of intimacy for a year. Now I can’t go a day without my captive?

  Do not touch her. Do not kiss her. Remember the bet. She would make the first move, damn it. She would!

  Maybe, if he reminded her of what they’d done, she would beg for more? “What we did in the shower…” he began.

  “No!” She rushed over to flatten her hand over his mouth. Contact! Finally. “We’re not going to talk about that until after a winner is declared.”

  Fair enough. What wasn’t fair? That body of hers. If she’d dressed to scramble his mind—mission accomplished.

  If only it were missionary accomplished. One can hope.

  He negated the bloodline around the bedroom, secretly disturbing the line of blood and Water he’d drawn around the bedroom’s perimeter. Now, Fox could open a portal, no problem.

  Was he making a mistake, trusting her to keep her word? Time would tell.

  He clasped her wrist, kissed and nipped her palm, then lowered her arm, freeing his mouth. “I have a gift for you,” he said, withdrawing a velvet bag from the nightstand. Try to resist me now, vixen.

  She accepted the bag, leery, only to evince excitement as she withdrew and donned the contents—an assortment of weapons he’d selected from the club’s treasure room. He’d personally selected a necklace with a small, bejeweled dagger hanging from the center, a pair of spiked armbands, and an electrified ruby torque. A split second of contact would fry someone’s insides.

  “Aren’t you afraid I’ll attack you?” she asked, brows furrowed with confusion.

  “A test isn’t a true test if the variables are inaccurate.” He tilted his head and leveled his gaze on her. “Will you attack me?”

  “No!”

  “Will you attack other Sent Ones?”

  “No,” she said, her teeth gritted.

  Just to be contrary, he told her, “Be a good little vixen, then, and open a portal to these exact coordinates.” He rattled off the latitude and longitude of a sub-realm in the heavens. A good place to meet with certain Warriors, because it led nowhere. If ever Fox returned, no big deal.

  Her eyes widened with surprised excitement. But she used a grumpy tone when next she spoke. “FYI, this vixen will pee on your rug and shred your robes if you condescend to her again.”

  He grinned, loving her reaction. The woman took no shit from anyone.

  She flipped him off, and his grin only widened. “You are so irritating when you refuse to get irritated,” she mumbled, rolling her neck and shaking her arms. She tapped her fingers together, sparks flying from the ends. A toothy grin spread as the sparks burned a hole in the air. A hole that grew and grew until a doorway to the other location opened up.

  He marveled at her ability and the undiluted power—magic—she wielded. Sent Ones had a hate-hate relationship with all things magic, a poison to their bodies.

&nb
sp; As they walked through the magical doorway, a thousand needles seemed to prick his skin. The effects of the magic. He and Fox entered a too hot and too cold cloud-land with puffy white hills in every direction. Yes, the air was both hot and cold. It was an impossible phenomenon but true all the same. Bjorn, Thane and Xerxes often trained here. The more awful the conditions during your training, the better you fought afterward.

  With Fox at his side, Bjorn trekked forward. He expected an escape attempt, but Fox never struck at him, or darted off. Of course, the woman never did anything he expected.

  At his left, a demon shot from the cloud. A scaled beast with a forked tongue, two claws sprouting from each fingertip, and pus dripping from multiple gashes on his face. Probably one who’d hidden here, hoping to torment a Warrior. Or maybe one intended for use during training.

  Either way, demons had the ability to solidify outside of Hell; this one made full use of his tangibility, swiping those double claws at Bjorn’s jugular.

  He swished his wing to blow the bastard backward before contact. Too late. Those claws continued to descend, ready to rip into flesh.

  Fox spun into the demon’s line of attack, shielding Bjorn while slicking a dagger through the bastard’s throat. Bjorn did not sustain a single injury. Nor did Fox.

  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.