By the Horns

by Rachael Slate

“Dammit, Nat.” He huffed. “I’m not gay.” Smooth, Kassian. “I’ve taken vows.” Yeah, vows he’d taken—if he were honest—because of Nat. Because when she’d rejected him, he’d gone on a pussy-alcohol-drugs binge to forget about her. Sheng had hauled his ass out of the haze and shown him a different path. One where he didn’t need Natalie to fill the void anymore.

  He had Ox now.

  “Oh. Like abstinence?”

  “Yeah. Purity. No more drugs, alcohol, women.” He shrugged.

  Her lashes dropped again, but she didn’t ogle his junk. Which shouldn’t have disappointed him like it did. “I’m really sorry.”

  Fuck. Her apology made everything worse. She lifted her lashes, the reverent empathy in her frown punching him in the gut. His stomach churned like he was about to puke, but she blocked the path between him and the porcelain god, so he squelched the urge.

  His vows meant everything to him. That he’d considered giving them up, even for one fucking instant, sickened him. He was bloody glad he faced away from the mirror, because no way could he look at himself.

  Crap. Guilt sliced into Nat’s conscience. At the same time, curiosity picked away at her brain.

  Kassian was a player. He’d always been a player. She couldn’t recall a single summer when he hadn’t hooked up with the dozens of fawning beach blondes who flocked to his irresistible manliness.

  Her gaze slid over the stylized yin-yang tat on his front right shoulder, one Chinese character etched into the center. The symbol declared he was a descendant of one of the Eight Immortals—Zhang Guolao. That was new. She recognized the tat from the Matchmaker’s files. Each of the Chosen bore one—a symbol of devotion to their path.

  Had the man in front of her changed so drastically? Vows of purity? Honestly? She held the utmost respect for those who took any oaths. Abstinence had to be the hardest one for a man like Kassian. Damn him. Seduction plummeted out of her playbook. One thing she understood—the enormity of dedication.

  Keeping her own vows taught her that lesson.

  “Are you planning on becoming a monk?” An image of Kassian, orange robe, shaven head, flashed through her mind.

  He shrugged. “Probably not.”

  “So the vows are just…”

  “For myself, yeah.” He raked a hand through those silky, dark locks, re-spiking the tips.

  She shuffled her feet and crossed her arms. The hint of her nipples through his borrowed shirt was no longer a fair tactic. As she shifted, the fabric released a trace of his scent—spicy, dark, and woodsy like the fresh cut cedar the two of them used to burn at their summer bonfires.

  Get it together, Nat. Never be distracted by a target, and if Kassian didn’t step aside he’d become that. Her target. Yet the reveal of his vows switched their positions, and she scrambled for self-control.

  How did his abstinence make him even more seductive?

  Sheesh. She had to get out of this apartment. Stat. Before she made a bigger fool of herself. She held up her wrist and Kassian snapped the cuff back on.

  He led the way out of the bathroom and she trailed behind, noting the apartment’s layout. His flat was smaller than she would have expected for such a large man. Didn’t he get cramped inside these tight spaces? His queen-size bed occupied the majority of his bedroom. He nudged her to sit at the head of the bed and closed the other cuff around the headboard. She leaned back, getting comfy and drawing the blanket around her bare thighs.

  He stepped inside the closet and reappeared a few seconds later, dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans, looking every inch the bad boy she remembered.

  But he wasn’t. A quick scan of the room revealed nothing of the man she’d known. She’d expected a pile of video games and some dirty mags. Definitely not the bookcase packed with intellectual works. When had Kassian become so deep? Why the hell did she find that sexy?

  “I’m going to grab us something to eat. Can I trust you to behave until I get back?” The smirk on his face told her he deemed his handcuffs inescapable.

  She might not be a magician, but any self-respecting Lotus could manage her way out of a simple pair of manacles.

  “Of course. I’ll just hang here, ya know?” She let the sarcasm drip through her voice. If he believed her annoyed about being cuffed, he’d be less likely to suspect her true motives.

  He sauntered out of the room with a chuckle on his lips. Because of the shattered glass in front of the door, she assumed he’d exit via the balcony. The flat was only three stories up, and if he cloaked Ox, the leap wouldn’t be an issue. She waited for the tone of the fingerprint scanner. After it beeped and the balcony door thudded shut, she slipped her hand to her hair and extracted a bobby pin. Wearing her hair long and loose was another disguise. Her locks were thick enough to hide the few pins she’d fastened sideways against her scalp.

  Kassian’s first mistake? Not binding both her arms and legs. His second? Leaving her alone. With a few quick twists, she unlocked the cuff, freeing her wrist. She headed into the bathroom to retrieve her shoes and dress.

  Her clothes weren’t pooled on the floor where she’d dropped them. She frowned and searched the linen closet. Nope.

  Damn him. He must have taken them with him. The pair of boots on the floor of the closet would be like clown shoes on her feet, and none of the clothes hanging here would fit her. Oh well. If he presumed the broken glass scattered across the floor in front of the apartment door would stop her, she’d use his underestimation to her advantage. Her lessons in parkour—a form of extreme obstacle course running—had trained her to make it from point A to point B no matter what lay between.

  She treaded into the living room, scanning the floor and walls for the best way across. No time to sweep—Kassian might return at any moment. She’d already wasted too many seconds searching for her clothes. Inhaling, she planted her left foot on the side table where she’d found the glass bottle and hoisted upward. If she couldn’t go around and she couldn’t go through, she’d go above.

  The half-inch ledge on the waist-high wainscoting might hold her footing if she hugged her body against the wall. She was tall enough to grasp the crown molding adorning the border between the walls and ceiling. Gritting her teeth, she planted one foot on the narrow ledge, hoisted herself up, and gripped the molding with everything she had.

  Inch by inch, she toed forward, around the corner toward the door. She eyed the floor. Hundreds of shiny splitters winked at her. A foot full of glass would inhibit her getaway, and Kassian was going to pursue her. No doubt. She had to be smart about this. Hunching, her butt sticking out, she reached for the lock on the door.

  The knob twisted open with a click. Praise the Emperor.

  She gripped the handle and tugged. The door swung with more force than she’d anticipated, yanking her off her perch. Her arms and legs reacted on instinct, and she straddled the edges of the door, arms clinging to the inside and outside, her feet pinched together on the knobs on either side.

  One breath, two. She braced to hop down into the open corridor.

  ***

  Kassian shucked off his shoes beside the balcony door, deposited the noodles he’d bought next to them, and lifted his head. “What the fuck?” Nat hung off the front door of his flat like a ninja.

  At his thundering “fuck,” she swung her attention in his direction long enough for him to catch the victorious smirk on her lips. She leapt off the door and into the corridor.

  Oh, hell no.

  He blasted forward, cloaking Ox as he traversed the pit of shattered glass. Nat’s form disappeared around the corner. He barreled down the hall and—fuck delicacy—the second he gained on Nat’s heels, he tackled her to the ground.

  Between straining gulps of oxygen, he rasped, “You’re…a…tenacious little thing…aren’t you?” He lifted his head to scowl at Nat, but no sassy retort passed through her lips. In fact, no air appeared to either.

  Crap.

  He reared back onto his knees and cradled her head in hi
s hands. “Nat?” His heart rammed against his ribs in increasing augmentations of hell no, shit, shit, fucking shit. The world stopped like the breath stuck in his lungs, his vision blurring everything except Nat’s pale face. What have I done?

  “Nat?” His voice broke, pleading as he patted her cheek.

  A throaty moan greeted his ears a second before her eyelids fluttered. She pressed one shaky hand to her forehead.

  On his knees, he backed off to the side, staring at his hands. Relief didn’t stream through him, even though she appeared to be all right.

  Dammit, Ox. He had no business being around humans. People were fragile. They could be broken.

  By him.

  Ox wasn’t just the strongest spirit animal, it was the clumsiest too. Big and awkward. Kassian often didn’t realize he’d hurt someone until after the fact. When cloaked, he was a focus-on-one-thing-and-one-objective-only kind of guy. Sure, he sparred with the other Chosen, but Chosen healed each other.

  Humans best stay out of his path.

  Nat wasn’t the first person he’d hurt unintentionally. While she grunted and shuffled to her feet, he clenched and unclenched his fists. He couldn’t bear to look, to observe how he’d hurt her.

  Exactly why he had to get her the hell out of here.

  “Fine. I give up.” She teetered in front of him and glowered. “I can’t get away from you. I admit it. There, happy?”

  He snorted. Happy was the last word he’d use to describe these circumstances. “I will be, once I see you safely on a plane.”

  “I can’t wait,” she ground out and wobbled toward his apartment.

  He followed her with his gaze. Bringing her back to his flat wasn’t the best plan, but he’d checked on his phone on his way back from buying the carton of noodles, and the next flight didn’t depart until morning. It would be easier to keep an eye on her in a small space than the open airport.

  She paused at the doorway.

  The glass. Fuck.

  He rose, planting one foot on the ground. “Bloody hell!” He grabbed his left foot with one hand and hopped on the other. Off-balance, he crashed onto his ass in the carpeted hallway.

  Nat rushed to his side, and they winced at the same time as he held up his bloodied foot and grunted, “Fucking glass.”

  “My thoughts exactly.” Nat laughed. “Guess we’re even, huh?”

  He shot her a scowl, but the curve of her lips and the way her top teeth sank against her bottom lip, combined with the crinkle in the corner of her eyes… Every fond memory of her rushed back, washing away his anger, his frustration, and his good sense.

  “Let me.” She reached for his foot.

  “Ow!” He swatted away her hand as she made to pluck out the giant shard of glass from his flesh.

  “Oh, you big baby.” More chiming laughter. “Hold still. It won’t hurt…as much.”

  “Well, that’s reassuring.” He gritted his teeth while she yanked out the shard.

  “Maybe next time you’ll think before stampeding across a pile of broken glass.”

  “Wasn’t me,” he grated. “Ox.”

  She sank back on her knees and regarded him. “Doesn’t the spirit protect you?”

  “Yeah, but it doesn’t make me invincible.”

  “Huh. Why didn’t you just jump over the glass? Don’t you control the spirit?”

  He crossed his arms. “Strategizing is easier said than done once Ox gets a target in its sights.”

  “Hmm.”

  He tore his gaze from his wound to her pursed lips. “What?”

  “Well, it seems to me your Ox could use a little more…direction.”

  Okay, now he was bloody well fuming. “After the antics you’ve put me through today, you have the nerve to say I lack discipline?”

  She shrugged. “If the hooves fit.”

  “You’re one to talk.” He hobbled to his feet, shaking his head.

  “Oh, really? I’m not the one who deems he can make up the rules. Who sees the world in black and white.” She planted her hands on her hips, cocoa eyes narrowed on him. “I’ve been out there, in the real world, and I can tell you, there’s a hell of a lot of gray.”

  He took two steps toward her, heaving in through his nose and out through his mouth. If he didn’t calm down, Ox would escape his control, and the spirit shouldn’t make another appearance.

  “Real? I’m not the one who ran away when things got too lsquo; real.’ ” He leaned in as the old hurt cinched tighter inside his chest. She tilted her face to his, closing the distance between their lips like the seductress she was trained to be. Was everything a game to her? Bypassing the offering of her sexy mouth, he bent to her ear, and murmured, “Stay or go. I don’t fucking care anymore.” Grimacing, he strode toward his apartment, vaulted over the glass, and stormed inside.

  ***

  Nat blinked once. Twice. What the hell had just happened? No one had ever plucked her strings like Kassian. Apparently, he still possessed the ability.

  When he’d approached her, like a fool, she’d angled her face to his and parted her lips.

  Expectantly. What the hell is wrong with me? He had no intention of kissing her ever again. Especially not after how she’d left things.

  He was a man, after all, and the wound to his pride had probably stung worse than her absence. She didn’t blame him. After what he’d told her that night, he had every right to hate her for abandoning him.

  Her motives weren’t as simple as he seemed to believe, but to explain the truth would make things worse. Better to keep his false assumptions in place. Clearly, he’d gotten over her.

  She stared after his retreating form. Witnessing Ox in full force made her hungrier for her own spirit. The power, the responsibility, the ability.

  To avenge.

  With the Snake, she could do anything—including the one task that had haunted her for six years. The guilt and anger weighed her down each day. Fulfilling her mission would cost her soul, but her vengeance would be complete.

  As the dark cloud of her future settled above her head, Nat stared at the open doorway. She shouldn’t involve him. Couldn’t involve him. Yet she headed to the door, toward one last chance to feel alive.

  At the doorframe, she poked her head inside. The light to the bathroom was on. Kassian must be bandaging his foot. The big oaf. He’d always charged head-on without first thinking through his actions.

  Truth was, she wasn’t any different. Once she set her mind to a task, no one could stop her. She’d follow her plans through to the bitter end. No matter what sacrifices it would take. How she’d have to lie, steal, and cheat her way to victory. If a cause called for a champion, she’d be that champion.

  She’d be Mali’s champion.

  Her breath left her body in a shudder, and she leaned her cheek against the doorframe. Kassian must have deaf neighbors, because the ruckus they’d caused ought to have brought the police. Or at least, nosy bystanders.

  She should march straight to the Matchmaker’s secret hideout and take the Snake. Before Kassian ever got a whiff of her intentions. Sighing, she stared into the hallway. Intimacy wasn’t an indulgence she ever let herself enjoy. Tonight was no exception. Besides, Kassian hated her guts.

  “Give it to me.”

  She jolted and glanced around. The hall was empty. The deep, accented voice rumbled again. Was Kassian talking to himself?

  “Why the fuck not, Sheng? This makes way more sense.”

  Aha. He was on the phone. Her ears strained to catch his conversation.

  “Get Lucy to take the Ox out of me and give me the Snake instead. If the Matchmaker insists, she can hand Nat the Ox— What? Fuck, no. No, no. Hell, no.”

  His rumbling voice grew more agitated. “Because it’s an unknown variable, that’s why. You’d do the same for Lucy, so don’t tell me the fuck no.”

  Her heart stuttered inside her chest. Do the same for Lucy? Yeah, but Sheng loved Lucy…

  “No, you can tell the Matchmak
er Nat’s not going anywhere near Lucy until I have reassurance she’s not getting the Snake. I don’t give a damn what the consequences are for me. She can stick my ass in Dìyù for all I care.”

  Pause.

  “Don’t tell me it doesn’t bloody work that way.” An edge of pleading coated his frustration. “You don’t know that.”

  Oh, hell no. Despite Kassian’s snub, he did care, and he would stand in her way of getting the Snake. No matter the cost to himself. The heroic fool.

  The Matchmaker wouldn’t be crossed. And neither would Nat.

  If she didn’t act, he’d ruin her chance at fulfilling her vows.

  She backed down the corridor. At the end, she turned and hurried down the stairs. After exiting the lobby doors, she grimaced at her bare feet and skimpy T-shirt, but whatever. Ignoring the occasional gawking passerby and lewd cat-call, she sprinted straight back to the Matchmaker’s hideout.

  Kassian would be pissed, but he’d also be exactly where she required him.

  Cornered.

  The second Kassian hung up, the hairs on the back of his neck pricked. The metal frame of the phone crunched in his hand, so he forced his hand open and dropped the phone before he crushed it altogether.

  He whipped his head toward the open doorway. No Nat. Sure, he’d issued a threat, but it had been an empty one. He’d expected her to stroll back inside, head held high. Sniffing, he let Ox’s senses assume control.

  Gone.

  Fuck. In the future, he’d be a hell of a lot clearer in his threats. Not a doubt in his mind, she was headed for the Matchmaker. She’d make it there before him. He glared at the dented phone on the floor. The lump of metal was like his pride. Defeated. He should find another phone, call Sheng, and beg the man to wait until Kassian arrived, but the other Chosen were against him. Not a single one on his side.

  Mei—Monkey’s host—would have been. His heart panged at the reminder of their youngest Chosen who’d been dragged to their enemy’s lair. Sheng’s brother, Delun—the new host of the Dragon—claimed she was fine, but how the hell could he be certain? Two months had passed, and Mei remained a prisoner.