by RJ Blain
Viktor snorted. “If he’s going to treat you like a broodmare, I’m going to put him down like the rabid animal he is. Men like him don’t reform. Once a predator, always a predator. He was willing to circumvent your free will to get what he wanted. Given the chance, he’ll do it to someone else, someone who doesn’t have your natural resilience. Worse, I could’ve been just like him, too.”
“But you’re not.”
“I cheated and put you to sleep,” he reminded me. “I couldn’t handle any of you crying.”
“It’s going to happen.”
“It wasn’t happening yesterday. I was originally going to make Nolan dig with a shovel until he looked at me like I was insane and asked why he couldn’t use magic. A hole, according to him, is a hole.”
“I’m relieved he’s got some grasp of practicality and common sense.”
“I’d withhold judgment on the common sense part,” Viktor warned. “He did join forces with Hestia, and they were planning to assault your ex. They were armed with a pocket knife.”
I groaned. “What are you going to be armed with, anyway?”
“A gun.”
“And you actually know how to use it?”
“I’ve been trained, but I’m planning on getting up close and personal with him. Hard to miss at point blank range. I’m not taking any chances with the bastard. I’m going to come up behind him when he’s focused on you. It’s going to be messy. Nolan wanted to electrocute him, but I said no. Using yourself as bait is one thing, but I thought you’d lose your shit if Nolan was involved. Honestly, I let Nolan dig the hole because he wanted to help. You should be thanking me for stopping that train wreck.”
“I am.”
“I’d like it a lot if you showed me how grateful you are.”
I bet he would, and as I’d enjoy it, too, I did.
Chapter Nine
Every murder had several components, and any detective worth his badge would know who was behind my ex-husband’s impending demise.
Motive was easy. I wanted Adken dead for ruining my life, Viktor wanted to get rid of the competition, and I tried not to think too hard of my son’s motivations. A young man shouldn’t have been burdened with the thoughts of killing his father, even though those reasons were good ones.
A detective would have some sympathy for my son, but it wouldn’t spare us from our crimes.
Therapy wouldn’t erase the sort of violations we’d both suffered, although Adken’s death would close the book on that miserable part of our lives and give us a chance to move on without fear. Prison wouldn’t work on a man like Adken, not on a man who could sway his guards with touch or word. According to Viktor, not even solitary confinement could keep a puppeteer detained long.
Their touch became law, and it took only a single mistake for prison to lose its effectiveness.
After motive came the method, and while there had been more elaborate plans than ours, ours stood a good chance of working—and was easy to decipher. There wasn’t hiding a bullet to the brain, and it wouldn’t take long for a smart detective to piece together we’d lured Adken to his death.
Adken developed tunnel vision when he found something he wanted, and we were counting on that to blind him to Viktor’s ambush.
At first, I’d considered arming myself with a knife, but Viktor didn’t want to give Adken any weapons.
Defying my lover had taken every scrap of my will, but I’d picked up a chunk of razor stone, clutching it and challenging him with a glare. While he watched, I’d stuffed my rock in my pocket.
He made no mention of the stone, and I ignored the scrapes on my fingers and the new hole in my jeans.
After method came the murder and the madness, which involved hiding just enough evidence of our wrongdoing to clear us in the courts, which would use an angel to verify the truth. Everything we said, everything we thought, and everything we did would face scrutiny.
Viktor thought we could get away with it, as long as we stuck to the truth. Our version of the truth amused me, boiling down to me needing to escape life while Viktor wanted to become a part of my life. He wanted to present it as a chance to see if we could share living space without getting sick of each other.
Assuming neither of my children were in the session, I’d cheerfully admit I just wanted to get him out of his pants.
Adken showing up would be something we feared and expected, which was true. An angel might notice the subtle differences, but angels had a sense of justice, one that went beyond the letter of the law.
Justice came in many flavors, and angels obeyed the spirit of the law. The spirit was so often not the letter, so Viktor believed they’d side with us. From my understanding of the situation, Viktor would be trying our case in a way the courts didn’t intend, convincing the angel to side with us through his thoughts.
On the surface, law enforcement seemed murky, but everything Viktor implied made it a far scarier thing.
From the day I’d been born, I’d been taught angels were the purest form of the truth, unable to be swayed by anyone. Viktor’s knowing smile and shrug undermined everything I’d believed.
I wondered what life after the murder would be like. Would the weight of taking someone else’s life change me?
Likely, but I needed the closure Adken’s death would provide. If our case stood up in the courts, the verdict would offer the illusion of legitimacy.
I could live with illusions if it meant I could breathe without the worry of him coming for me or my children ever again.
As though understanding I needed time to come to terms with what we planned to do, Viktor coached Nolan on what to tell his grandparents to make them unwitting accessories in Adken’s demise.
It didn’t take me long. The thought of dancing on his grave, possibly naked if circumstances allowed, did a good job of confirming I really wanted to rid the world of the bastard. Later, guilt would gnaw at me for involving Viktor in my problems, and no matter what favors he asked of me, it’d never be enough to repay him for his help.
A lifetime in prison was worth irrevocable freedom from Adken and his magic.
As soon as Nolan called his grandparents, the clock would begin ticking. If they did as Viktor believed, we could have an unwanted visitor within minutes. My job was simple.
All I had to do was open the door when he arrived. In reality, I wouldn’t last long. Adken would use his magic on me as quickly as he could, trapping me within my body. I’d be aware of nothing once he touched me.
The stone in my pocket was nothing more than a symbol, proof I could—and would—stand up for myself with Viktor. Adken wouldn’t view a rock as a weapon.
He’d find my symbol worthless.
I trusted Viktor to protect my children, and they waited outside with him. The only person to be trapped in the cabin would be me, no matter what Adken did.
The knock came far sooner than I expected, and with shaking heads, I obeyed our plan, feigning ignorance my ex-husband would show. I opened the door, and the instant I recognized Adken, I sucked in a breath, forcing my eyes wide. “You.”
“Dakota. You’re really here. Good.”
I tightened my grip on my shard, and the edges sliced into my fingers. “What do you want?”
He dismissed my question with a wave of his hand, stepping closer. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not going to be capable of caring soon enough. I gave you a chance to come peacefully. Now I’m just going to take what I want, and you’re going to produce a worthwhile heir for me this time.”
We moved at the same time. He touched my cheek, I yanked my shard out of my pocket, lifted my arm, and struck for the only place I thought my rock might do some damage, the soft skin of his throat.
As it had in Vegas, Adken’s magic numbed my skin, made me tingle, and smothered me in darkness, sucking me into a void disconnected from everything, even my body.
I didn’t even know if I’d hit him with my defiant blow.
Unable to do anything else
, I dreamed of his blood on my hand, his body twitching as he breathed his last. I dreamed of the moment he sighed, the life fleeing from his body.
All my hopes rode with Viktor and his gun, freeing me and my children from our living nightmare.
A sharp slap across the face jerked me out of the abyss, and light assaulted my eyes. I yelped, turning my head to escape, but a softer touch to my cheek held me still.
“Dakota?” Viktor demanded, and he leaned close, touching his brow to mine. “Are you all right?”
“Damn it. The bastard got me,” I complained, my tongue refusing to cooperate without slurring.
“You’re something else. The fucker blank slated you, and you still went for his jugular with your damned rock!” Viktor shook my shoulders. “You scared the liver out of me. Tearing his jugular open was not part of our plan. Are you trying to give me a heart attack? If so, you almost succeeded. I thought he had killed you!”
I gaped at him. “What?”
Viktor’s grip on my shoulders tightened. “When the jugular’s severed, it can cause a rather dramatic fountaining of blood. He reached for you, blood sprayed, and you both went down in a heap. When I reached you, you were covered in blood. You scared the kids.” Sighing, he relaxed his hold, sliding his arms down my arms, which were covered in blood. “I’ve a mind to turn you over my knee for scaring us so much. I sent the kids to the SUV, and Hestia’s calling the police. It’s an open and close self-defense case.”
“Oh.” I lowered my gaze to my shirt, which was rather wet and stained with dark splotches. “Ew. I’m wearing my ex.”
Viktor laughed and ground his knuckles against the top of my head. “You little idiot.”
Laughing, I nodded. “I’m an idiot. I’m an idiot who owes you two favors over his dead body.”
I had no idea where his dead body was, but I didn’t want to see it, so I admired Viktor instead, who had blood splotched on his face, hands, and shirt, too.
“I’m impressed. He hit you so hard I felt the magic all the way where I was hiding. I can’t even claim the kill. I may have added a bullet or two to make sure he stayed down, but you did the real work.” His smile devastated me. “For favor one, you must come live with me and share my bed each and every night until we’re both old and wrinkled. Once you’re able to stand without help, I’ll get on my knees and beg until you agree to be my wife. I’ll do it every day in an increasingly more embarrassing way until you agree.”
I sucked in a breath, my eyes widening. “That’s one hell of a favor, Viktor.”
“That was the deal, Future Mrs. Jenkins. You agreed to anything I wanted, and I want you. If I have to beg every day for the rest of our lives, so be it.”
“Begging won’t be necessary.” He amazed me; I couldn’t imagine why he’d want me as much as I wanted him, but I wasn’t going to throw away a chance for the sort of family and home Adken had never been able to offer me. “And your second favor?”
“Favor number two is even more important me to the first one, and that one means the world to me.”
Uh oh. “Does it involve having more children?”
More children appealed to me, especially knowing they’d have a father who’d love them.
“Not quite.”
I frowned, unable to think of what else he could possibly want more important than convincing me to spend the rest of my life with him. “What’s the favor?”
“I need you to forgive me.”
“What? For what? You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Oh, I’ve done a lot wrong, but I’ll start with my gravest sin.”
I waited, at a loss of what he could’ve done that he’d confess it over my ex’s dead body.
“Several years ago, I met an ice queen in a bar so drunk—”
Realization slammed into me and I grabbed handfuls of my hair, giving a headache-inducing yank. “You have got to be kidding me!”
Viktor gulped. “Hestia was vetting me because she wanted to know about her father, so she decided to ask the CDC to identify me before she matures as a goddess, which might erase paternal and maternal DNA evidence. As I’m a CDC employee, my DNA sample was in the system. The reason she was skipping on Sundays was so she could meet with me, but she was afraid to tell you, as she didn’t know how you’d react. She’d seen how you reacted when your child support statements came in, so she didn’t want to upset you.”
My mouth dropped open, but I couldn’t force out a single word. Viktor waited.
And waited. And waited.
“T-that conniving little brat was trying to set me up with her own father!”
Viktor’s face darkened in a blush. “That’s accurate.”
“You’re really the poor man I violated in a bar?”
“It wasn’t in a bar. I took you home with me, and I assure you, I was a most willing participant. I wanted to tell you sooner, but you were so determined to be the perfect mother, and you didn’t want to burden anyone, that I couldn’t force myself to do it. I figured I’d bide my time and see what happened. Then Adken blank slated you. The CDC knew Hestia was our daughter, so they approved my request to be the one to stay with you after the suppressors were removed.” He lifted his hand and ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re not a burden, and neither is she, and if you agree to forgive me, I swear I’ll do my best to keep from disappointing you. Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”
Was he kidding? It’d take work to adjust, adapt, and accept reality, but he was giving me the final choice.
He would beg, but he wouldn’t force.
“You’ve already given me everything I could want.”
“What? How?”
I allowed myself a grim smile. “You dug me a hole, just like I wanted, although it doesn’t look like we need it—and Nolan did most of the work. On my own, I’d only have a badly dug hole and no body to put in it. Without you, I’d still be trapped in his shadow.”
“I should’ve followed you home years ago.”
“Like a sexy stalker puppy?” I rolled my eyes. “Please. I’m an independent woman in need of therapy here.”
“I like how you admit you need therapy.”
“I killed my ex with a sharp rock, and I’m seriously contemplating dumping his body in a hole my lover dug with a lot of help from my son. I’m pretty sure we all need therapy.”
“We’ll figure something out,” he promised. “If you really need therapy, I’ll go with you to every session.”
“Do you think we can get away with dumping his body?”
“I’m afraid not. It’d be too much work. Why mess with your easy self-defense verdict? And to think people say there’s no such thing as the perfect murder. Well done, Future Mrs. Jenkins.”
I couldn’t help it; I laughed. “Hey, Viktor?”
“What?”
“Do I lose my independent woman status if you have to carry me to the SUV? I don’t think my legs are ready to work quite right, and for some reason, I don’t think I want to stay here tonight,” I confessed.
“No, but only if you agree to both of my favors. I’ll even carry you like the pretty princess you are rather than toss you over my shoulder while grunting like a caveman.”
“Deal. I’d say we should seal the deal with a kiss, but I’m covered in blood for some reason.”
He kissed me anyway. “What’s a little blood between friends?”
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About the Author
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RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.
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When she isn't playing pretend, she likes to think she's a cartographer and a sumi-e painter.
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In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Should that fail, her contingency plan
involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until she is satisfied.
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RJ also writes as Susan Copperfield and Trillian Anderson.
If you enjoy using bookbub, you can follow RJ and her alter ego Susan there.
thesneakykittycritic.com
Magical Romantic Comedies (with a body count)
Playing with Fire
Hoofin’ It
Hearth, Home, and Havoc
Whatever for Hire
Serial Killer Princess
No Kitten Around (Late 2018)
Saddle Up (2019)
Grave Humor (May 2019)
Dragon Her Heels (Late 2019)
From Witch & Wolf World
Series: Witch & Wolf
Inquisitor
Winter Wolf
Blood Diamond
Silver Bullet
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Series: Wolf Hunt
Wolf Hunt (2018)
Wild Wolf (2019)
The Edge of Midnight (2020)
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Series: Nature of the Beast
Pack Justice
Dual Nature (TBD)
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Series: Balancing the Scales
Karma
License to Kill (TBD)
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Standalones
Beneath a Blood Moon
Shadowed Flame
* * *
Tales of the Winter Wolf
(Short Story/Novella Collections)
Omnibus - Volumes One-Five
Volume Six (Aftermath to Winter Wolf.)
