Dark Thoughts

by Cynthia Sax

  He would keep her safe.

  “They allowed Azalea to live.” His stubborn female tried again. “Sari—”

  “Sari is dead.” It was an effort to keep his voice calm. “She was originally chosen to bring Todt-933’s message to you. Sari convinced them to send Azalea in her place.”

  “She vowed to protect Azalea.” Dita quietly admitted.

  “Sari told the girl to inform you her debt to the universe has been repaid.” He’d plucked that information from Azalea’s thoughts. “Your friend smiled as she said that.”

  His little assassin’s reply was eclipsed by a howl of agony, of outrage. The sound originated from the medic bay in the center of the settlement.

  Hulagu had discovered his gerel’s state. Kralj felt the young Chamele’s emotions as though they were his own.

  He wouldn’t experience that same sense of helplessness, those same regrets. He’d keep his little assassin safe.

  “Sari is my friend.” The grief in Dita’s voice ripped at him. “A normal friend, not merely someone I trained alongside, but someone who cared for me and I cared for her. Do you know how rare that is?”

  “Yes.” He knew because he only had one friend—her.

  “She can’t be dead.” Dita remained in denial.

  “She’s dead.”

  “Stop saying that.” She parted his coat and pressed her face against his chest, as though she was seeking to physically hide from the truth. “I can’t bear it. It hurts too much.”

  She silently cried, vibrating against him, wetting his skin with her tears. Kralj coiled a thick, impenetrable shadow tightly around them, cloaking her from curious gazes.

  His little assassin wouldn’t want anyone to see her break down, to view her while she was vulnerable. He’d allow her to grieve in private.

  Kralj carried her through the beverage outlet’s public chambers, into their personal space, set her on the sleeping support, and folded his fully clothed body around hers. She burrowed into his form. That she reached for him for solace touched his monstrous heart.

  Kralj petted her hair, her shoulders, her back, trying to comfort her, not knowing what to say, what else to do. He’d never felt as powerless as he did right now.

  His female, his mate hurt and he couldn’t help her.

  Dita’s trembling eased more and more. “I’m going to kill him.” Her voice was muffled. “That was my mission. I should have completed it immediately and then this wouldn’t have happened.”

  “He’ll return to the Refuge. You can kill him then.” Kralj would ensure she wasn’t harmed while she completed her mission.

  “If I wait, he’ll kill more innocent beings.” She lifted her head. Red rimmed her blue eyes.

  Kralj wanted to kill the clone for her, erase her pain in any way he could. “If you walk into his trap, he will definitely kill more innocent beings. You’ll die and then there will be no one left to stop him.”

  “You wouldn’t stop him?”

  If the clone touched Dita, he was dead. Kralj would kill him in the most painful way possible, boiling him from the inside out.

  “You wouldn’t stop him.” She answered her own question. “Because he hasn’t broken one of your precious rules.” Her voice was bitter. “That’s all you care about—the Refuge and your rules.”

  “I care about more than that.” He cared about her, desperately, more than the other two things combined. “But I know the limitations to my power. I can’t protect the entire planet.”

  “You could protect some beings from Todt-933.” She grasped the lapels of his coat. “Hunt with me, Kralj. We’ll track him down and kill him.”

  That offer was tempting but also irresponsible. “Doing that would put all of the residents of the Refuge at risk.”

  And it would put anyone they came into contract at risk. If any being tried to harm Dita, he wouldn’t be able to control his powers. He’d kill everyone.

  “Sometimes I hate that you’re so honorable.” She sagged against him.

  “Sometimes I hate that about you too.” He brushed an errant curl away from her face. “Waiting is the right decision, little one.”

  “It won’t be the right decision for the beings he kills.” She frowned, her bottom lip curling. “Let me go, handsome. I’ll return to you…if I can. I promise.”

  She would return to him…if she could. That offer wasn’t good enough. She might not survive her mission and he couldn’t bear that thought.

  Her death would break him, would erase the last smidgeons of humanity from his monstrous soul. He would start killing and never stop.

  “You’re not going anywhere.” Kralj circled her wrists with his fingers, determined to hold onto her, to ensure she never left him, never placed herself in danger. “Resign yourself to that fate.”

  “I refuse to do that.” His female was delightfully honest and frustratingly stubborn. “But there’s no need to restrain me. I won’t hunt him this planet rotation.”

  Kralj relaxed, trusting her to keep her vow. Dita was an intelligent being. Once her emotions cooled, she would realize waiting was the logical plan.

  Her friend was dead. There was nothing she could do to change that fact.

  Kralj pulled off her boots. “Remove your garments.” They wouldn’t be leaving the chambers again that planet rotation.

  Dita discarded her body covering. “I’m not in the mood for…” She waved at his groin.

  “I realize that.” He stripped quickly. His beast, his monster, all parts of him wanted her. His cock was hard, but he’d control himself. Sexual release wasn’t what his little assassin needed from him right now. “I want to hold you without a dagger hilt digging into my stomach.”

  She gave him a shadow of a smile. “Oh.”

  “Yes, oh.” Kralj drew her to him, tucking her into his larger form. “Azalea will survive.” He gave her an update, snatched from the attending medics’ thoughts.

  As he’d hoped, Dita’s attention turned to the girl, a being they could help. His little assassin asked questions. He shared the information he knew.

  Then he listened as Dita talked, relaying every moment she’d shared with the girl, with Sari. That seemed to comfort her, the talking.

  It wouldn’t be the last time his mate grieved. She shared his nanohumanics, would live for an almost endless lifespan. The humans, humanoids she befriended would eventually leave the Refuge, some voluntarily, some permanently.

  Kralj couldn’t, wouldn’t stop her from caring for those beings. Her big heart and her concern for others made her who she was.

  But he could hold her when those relationships ended. He could listen. He could stroke her hair and rub away the tear tracks on her face.

  Even a monster like him could do that.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Dita feigned sleep, waiting for Kralj to be called away, as he often was. Some of the potentially deadly situations in the Refuge required his physical presence. She usually joined him, standing by his side as the issue was resolved.

  This planet rotation, when the silent communication finally came, she remained still, keeping her breathing level. Although she was tempted, she didn’t open her eyes as he pressed his lips against her forehead. She didn’t reach for him as he rolled off the sleeping support, taking his hard body, his entrancing heat away from her.

  The doors closed behind him. Dita quietly dressed, verified her weapons were in place, slipped out of their chambers, hoping she’d return soon, see Kralj, the male she loved again.

  He’d reprimand her, give her the spanking of her lifespan, and she wouldn’t protest because she would deserve it. She wasn’t a fool. Todt-933 had set a trap for her.

  But Dita was compelled to do this, to take the risk. If Sari was alive, she had to rescue her. That was what a good friend would do. If Sari was dead, she needed to confirm that, see the body. Not knowing her friend’s fate would drive her insane.

  The corridors were empty. Dita exited the structure through a ba
ck door. Dare, the Dracheon male standing guard, was arguing with an intoxicated male. It was easy to slip by him.

  She hastened forward. The sun was breaking over the wall, painting the sky delicate pastel colors. Merchants were setting up their tents, displaying their goods, murmuring sleepy greetings to each other. Dita dashed from shadow to shadow, every length of darkness reminding her of Kralj.

  I could search for the rest of eternity and never replace you. That wasn’t a declaration of love but it might be as close as he’d ever get to one. Her powerful male saw her as a unique being, special, one of a kind.

  Dita had believed being normal would make beings care for her, bring her peace. She’d been wrong. The way Kralj looked at her, his eyes glowing, his grim face soft, communicated that. He allowed her to embrace her individuality.

  Balvan guarded the gate. She paused, lingering out of view. He glanced upward. Dita ran, zigzagging between the display of corpses. She’d hunted many of those targets with Kralj, the two of them playing in the settlement they protected.

  Once out of Balvan’s line of sight, she ran to the collection of ships parked in the designated stretch of flattened rocks. It was a simple feat to steal a skimmer, a small yet fast ship. It had been covered with a thin layer of sand, indicating it had been ground-bound for many planet rotations. The beings lingering in that section were few. There were newer vessels to tempt thieves.

  The guard, a huge bald-headed male, didn’t look up from his private viewscreen when she started the engines, the floor tiles vibrating under her booted feet. No alarms were sounded. No one chased her.

  Dita flew the ship toward the nearest beverage outlet, crafting plans in her mind. A few domiciles had been erected around the replenishing source. The inhabitants residing there serviced the travelers.

  She guided her ship around the structures, circling the beverage outlet. The clone and his cronies would expect her to travel from the Refuge. She would attempt to surprise them and enter from the opposite direction.

  Dita parked the skimmer out of human earshot range of the domiciles. She ran the rest of the way, her tread light, soundless, her senses on high alert. Smoke billowed from the structures. Her nose twitched. The scent of blood, of death clung to the air.

  The first body she spotted was a female, a baby in her arms. She’d been ravished and then sliced to pieces or sliced to pieces and then ravished. It was difficult to determine which order. Even the baby had been abused, the head several strides away from the body.

  Kralj called himself a monster but the males who did this were truly horrifying. They were cold, callous creatures with no hearts, their actions sickening Dita.

  The next corpse was a child, a little boy with the same coloring as the female. He lay face down in the sand, multiple projectiles in his back, his gray flight suit torn.

  The closer she trekked to the center, the more bodies she found. All were long dead, the blood dry and cracked on their skin, the insects feasting on them, a rare source of moisture in the parched terrain.

  Sari could still be alive, she told herself. The chances of that were slim but Todt-933 knew the importance of the female to her. He’d talked with Yorick, Sari’s handler, would have heard how Dita had defended her. The clone could have taken her hostage, thinking to use her as a possible bargaining lever.

  Dita ran. Finding cover was no longer an issue. Any traveler venturing close to the beverage outlet had been attacked, killed, their bodies, ships, possessions scattered over the sands.

  The clone’s gang were vicious but not very bright. They should have kept the space clear, made it easier to monitor. It wouldn’t have stopped her but it would have slowed her progress. And they might have seen her.

  She saw them. A human male stood between two huge white boulders. Todt-933 must have augmented his gang’s numbers with mercenaries. Dita pressed her back against a large container, hiding from his view.

  That precaution wasn’t necessary. The male gazed down at a private viewscreen, oblivious to her presence, his stance relaxed, his long gun slung over his right shoulder.

  She extracted one of her favorite daggers, crept toward him, moving slowly, slowly, slowly. He gave no indication he sensed her approach, the male chuckling at something he viewed. She reached around him and sliced his throat, cutting deep.

  Blood spurted. He gurgled, fell to the sand, his legs kicking. She wiped her blade on his chest covering. There were warriors positioned to the left and right of him, out of sight but heard.

  Dita resisted the urge to kill them. Saving Sari was her priority. She continued toward the beverage outlet.

  Domiciles were positioned around that structure. A smaller, inner circle of warriors guarded them. These males were more alert, their guns in their hands.

  They were still no match for her, a trained assassin. She threw a dagger and ran. The blade zinged through the air. The male she’d targeted didn’t have time to interpret what his eyes were seeing. The dagger pieced his throat, silencing him.

  Another male turned, raised his gun. She flung a second dagger, rolled, yanked the first blade out of flesh. The second throw was another direct hit.

  Her sense of satisfaction faded as she glanced at the beverage outlet.

  Bodies were strapped to the pillars decorating the front façade. The males must have used them for target practice. Daggers, battle-axes, other weapons stuck out of their flesh, their garments shredded, fluttering in the breeze. Blood stained the strips of metal around their necks, wrists, ankles. Their eyes had been gouged, empty sockets where they’d once been.

  One of the bodies belonged to Zeb, the leader of the settlers. She didn’t recognize two of the females. The third female’s identity froze her to the bone.

  Sari’s neck had been pinned to the pillar with the dagger she’d given her. Dita grimaced. The bastards had used her gift to torment her friend, to kill her.

  Sari was dead. She was too late to save her.

  The female’s debt to the universe had been repaid.

  That was the message Sari had relayed through Azalea and Kralj. Her friend had believed her destiny was to protect the girl, to save an innocent to offset the one she’d inadvertently killed.

  She’d done that, settling her outstanding balance with pain, with torture, with death.

  A scream crawled up Dita’s throat. She clamped her lips together, containing the sound.

  She was an assassin, had killed thousands of beings, seen many more die, but this was different. This was a friend, a rarity in her solitary world. She cared for Sari.

  And she was to blame for her death. Her friend had died because Dita hadn’t completed the assignment she’d been given. If she’d done her damn job, Sari would still be alive.

  Dita sank to her knees, her shoulders slumping, the sand yielding under her weight.

  She’d failed her friend, failed Azalea, failed everyone in the caravan.

  Kralj would tell her to return to the settlement. He’d bark that order in his deep, dominant tone, sling her over his shoulder and smack her ass if she refused to listen.

  Sari had been killed. There were no innocents to rescue. Todt-933 and his males had slain them all. Dita couldn’t change that.

  But she could change the future.

  Because the killing wouldn’t end. Every caravan approaching the beverage outlet would be attacked. Other beings’ friends would die. Other young females would be abused.

  She had to stay, had to complete her assignment, end this.

  Dita studied the terrain. Todt-933 would have males positioned inside the structure. There were more males guarding the far perimeter. She hadn’t killed them, not wanting to alarm the clone, thinking there were hostages to save.

  When the males sounded the alarm, which they eventually would, she’d be pinned between the two groups of killers.

  She’d die.

  Assassins didn’t live long lifespans. She knew that. Dita rested her fingers on the battle-axe Kralj had given h
er. She had thought she’d have no regrets when the end came.

  She’d been wrong. She regretted that she hadn’t told Kralj she loved him. She regretted that she’d never see his handsome face again, never touch him, never hear his voice.

  But her honor wouldn’t allow her to walk away from her responsibilities. Dita couldn’t be selfish, couldn’t save herself at the expense of others. She’d vowed to protect the females of Carinae E and that was what she’d do.

  Clearing the inner circle would increase her odds of success. Dita sprinted from domicile to domicile, slitting throats, throwing daggers.

  She killed every male she spotted, retrieving her weapons from each target’s corpse. Every male whose life she ended was a male who couldn’t hurt another being.

  She felt no regrets, not about their deaths. Her gaze drifted once more to Sari’s corpse. She had other sources of guilt.

  Once the inner circle was clear, Dita studied the beverage outlet. It wasn’t as secure as the structure she’d shared with Kralj. Large viewing portholes made the inhabitants vulnerable, the clear substance penetrable by projectiles.

  Dita ran, jumped, climbed up the side of the structure, perched on the roof, crouching. She switched her daggers for guns. Their weight in her hands felt right.

  The males would protect their leader, positioning Todt-933 at the back of the beverage outlet. She ran across the roof, swung over the edge, blasted a round of projectiles through that porthole.

  Males shouted. By the time they returned fire, she had pulled herself upward and had sprinted to the other side of the roof, replicating the assault through another porthole. The fools tried to shoot upward. The structure was designed for the desert, insulated against the hot sun. There was no breaching the roof.

  She ran, swung over the edge, shot, pulled herself up, ran again, bombarding them from all portholes, all sides. The males tried to predict her movements and failed. The trainers at the Guild had taught her that a predictable assassin was a dead assassin.