My Immortal Assassin

by Carolyn Jewel

  The sound he made wasn’t human. At all. He concentrated on keeping his human shape while he thrust into her body, wanting more and more and more of her, and she arched against him and bit him while he felt the convulsions of his orgasm begin in his balls and a tightening in his low spine, and he stopped thinking about anything but the woman beneath him.

  CHAPTER 24

  Two days later. Café Demonde, downtown San Francisco

  Gray resisted the urge to stand up when Leonidas walked in. She hadn’t been sure the mage would actually show. Now that he was here, with his magic setting off a tickle of recognition in her, she was nervous about the meeting. After some discussion, she and Durian had agreed that though Durian would not be far, she would meet Leonidas alone at first. He might watch his words more closely when speaking in front of Nikodemus’s assassin. The location had been Durian’s suggestion since a café full of humans would force Leonidas to behave.

  The mage wore a suit similar to the one he’d worn the night they found him outside the house on Broadway. Black this time instead of gray with a metallic green tie and another stark white shirt. Shiny black shoes. Even this near the financial district where so many of the men wore suits despite the trend to casual, Leonidas stood out as a splendidly dressed male in his prime. She reminded herself that his apparent youth came at a terrible price.

  He walked straight toward her. As of course he would. A mage would know what she was even before he saw her. Leonidas acknowledged her with a nod and a smile. “May I get you something?”

  She lifted her coffee. “I’m fine.”

  The wait for him to get to the barista gave her time to assess him and the number of eyes on him. There were many. The café was filled with the lunchtime crowd, people who’d come down from the high-rises; lawyers, financiers, executives, and their support staff. Durian was right. She was safe here. There were too many normal people around for Leonidas to consider trying anything. When he had his drink, he brought it to her table and sat on the chair opposite her.

  “Thanks for coming,” she said. “And for leaving your magehelds outside.”

  “Gray.” He glanced over his shoulder to where his magehelds were clearly visible through the plate glass window. They were waiting because they had been ordered to and had no choice but to comply. “A promise is a promise, after all.”

  She sipped her macchiato. The espresso was hitting her hard. She hadn’t had coffee this strong in weeks. She liked the edge. He was handsome, no denying that, but she preferred Durian’s looks to his.

  He’d ordered straight espresso, and he proceeded to empty three packets of sugar into his demitasse. “A pity, in my opinion. Someone with your unique gifts—” he lifted a hand heavenward, his fingers pinched together before a quick release, “—a kiss from the gods.”

  Her heart contracted, but she held Leonidas’s eye. “Is that how you see it? Because I’ll tell you, what Christophe did to me wasn’t a gift.”

  “My apologies.” When she didn’t reply, he said, “I had hoped that you and I would not meet as enemies.”

  “We’re not friends.”

  He nodded acknowledgment of that. “If I was not prepared to come to you as a friend would, I would not have accepted your invitation.”

  “So you say. But mages lie all the time.”

  He looked at her from under his lashes while he stirred his coffee. “It must be very useful to Durian to have a witch under his control.”

  Gray curled her hands around the handleless bowl the café used to serve its coffee. “You think this was his idea?”

  He placed his spoon on the table, aligning it so the handle was perfectly vertical. “No. But I am aware of the synergies that can result when a fiend of power and one of the magekind are bound.” His gaze flicked over her, and she didn’t like the sexual appraisal. “Durian would want that.”

  She took another sip of her coffee and thought about getting another one to keep the caffeine buzz going. “Maybe you have him all wrong.”

  He sat back, holding his demitasse. “Do I?”

  “Yeah, you do.”

  The physical appraisal of her started up again. “I presume Durian is having sex with you.”

  “Not your business.”

  His eyes were intent on her. “But you understand—”

  “Listen up.” She leaned over the table, angry beyond words. “I choose.” She tapped her chest. “Me. My decision and only my decision about who I have sex with and whether we do it straight or kinky or upside down. My decision whether I want to get pregnant and stay that way, and that’s only if Durian agrees he wants to be a father.”

  “I’m sure there are other—”

  “Don’t even go there, mage.” She lowered her voice. “If I do have sex with Durian like that, not that it’s any of your goddamned business, there won’t be a mage sitting around thinking he’s got a ready-made slave on the way.” Her hands clenched into fists. “Christophe tried to take that choice away from me. A mage. Durian, on the other hand, won’t force me one way or the other.”

  She felt him probe her. Even his slight push at her brought back the panic of the last eighteen months of her life. Her hand shot out and she grabbed his wrist, pinning his hand to the table at the same time she blocked him. She had to work at not snarling at him. “Not without my permission.”

  He flushed. “I apologize.”

  “But you’re not sorry.”

  He smiled and for a moment he looked just like the young man she’d first taken him for. It seemed like a hundred years ago now. “Forgive me, then.”

  “You know what? Durian knows he hasn’t done anything to me that I didn’t agree to from the start. That’s more than I can say for you.” She grabbed his espresso, lifted it in a mock toast, and downed it in one swallow. The empty cup clinked against the saucer. “How’s it feel?”

  He leaned back and tapped his fingers on the table. “Would you care for another?”

  She dug a crumpled five from her pocket and dropped it on the table.

  “Allow me,” the mage said, leaving her money where it was. “It’s the least I can do.”

  Several women watched him walk back to the line and order again. She wondered why Durian didn’t hate Leonidas the way he did other magekind. From what she’d seen so far, he wasn’t any different. He returned with two more espressos, straight up. She watched him put sugars in his with the same fastidious attention as before.

  “What the hell are you after, Leonidas? Why are you all worked up about me? Was that talk about a deal with Nikodemus bullshit while you really get in tight with Christophe? Because I can tell you right now, I won’t let any harm come to Durian. Or Nikodemus.”

  He sipped his espresso. “I admire your loyalty to the warlord and his assassin.”

  Gray rolled her eyes. “You think I don’t know what he is?”

  He put down his demitasse. “I’ve known him and known of him for longer than you’ve been alive. He’s dangerous.” He held her gaze. “As I’m sure you know.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “I promise you I am.” He leaned back in his chair, one hand on the table, the other on his lap. His ruby cufflink glittered in its gold setting. “You were not born magekind.”

  “No.”

  “And yet you have both kinds of magic. That would be fascinating even if you hadn’t taken both. To my knowledge, that’s never been done. By anyone.”

  She pushed away her coffee. “Nikodemus does something about his lawbreakers.” She looked at Leonidas straight on. “What are you doing about mages like Christophe?”

  He put down his demitasse and spread his hands. “We have oaths of our own, you know. We protect humans. It’s our purpose.” He swept a hand around the café. “We keep them safe. If demonkind are present and do no harm, I see no reason to kill them. There can be a balance.”

  “Sounds like heresy to me.”

  “I mean it.”

  She cocked her chin in the direct
ion of Leonidas’s magehelds. “You think you’re not killing them right now?”

  “They aren’t dead.”

  “You forget that I know what it’s like for them.”

  “You’re human.” He stopped with his demitasse halfway to his mouth. “Not one of them. You belong with your own kind.”

  “I lived like they did.” She touched her demitasse. “Christophe didn’t give his magehelds a choice about what happened to me.” She turned over her arm and examined the traceries there. They didn’t creep her out anymore. “Considering how much you magekind like to talk about protecting humans, it wasn’t one of you who got me away from Christophe. A mageheld died to save my life.”

  Leonidas gestured. “And made you into this.”

  “If he hadn’t, I’d be dead.” She leaned toward him. “Christophe did this to me. His orders. I’m free because of Tigran.” She sat back. She was angry, not for herself but for the kin. “How about you tell me what holding slaves and killing them when you feel like you need a few extra years has to do with protecting humans?”

  Leonidas lapsed into a silence worthy of Durian. “We need our power. We need to be strong.”

  “You are so full of it. You don’t need their magic to be strong. You’re killing them so you can live longer than you deserve.”

  People at neighboring tables were giving them worried glances. Gray looked at the closest to them and gave a reassuring grin. “We’re rehearsing for a play.”

  One of the women at the table laughed, but she was all over Leonidas. “I was waiting for one of you to pull a knife.”

  “No knives here.” Gray returned her attention to Leonidas. “Your line now.”

  He stared into his demitasse for a while. As she watched, she could see the play of emotions over his face. Guilt was one of them. “I am here, far from my home, because the warlord promises another way.”

  “You don’t need me for that.”

  Leonidas looked up and frowned. “What if I could augment your magic?”

  “Give up your magehelds and I’ll let you try.”

  “I’m not that curious.”

  She picked up her espresso and downed the whole thing. A familiar shiver ran down her spine, and she glanced over to see Durian outside. He walked past the magehelds and into the café.

  Leonidas reacted a moment later with a twitch of his hands. If he hadn’t been holding his coffee, she might not have noticed. “Your master has arrived.”

  She snorted. Durian wore black again, and damn, he looked good. His pullover fit close enough that there was just no hiding the perfection of his body. “Hardly.”

  Durian strolled to their table and, taking an empty chair from another table, sat down catercorner to Gray. He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “Gray.” He nodded to the mage. “Leonidas.”

  The mage nodded in return. “A timely appearance.”

  “Is it?”

  Leonidas stood up. “I was just leaving.”

  “I’m sorry I missed you.” He sat next to Gray and looped an arm around her shoulder.

  “Tell Nikodemus I wish to discuss an alliance. Have him call me if he’d like to discuss the particulars.”

  Gray looked up at him, astonished. “What made you change your mind?”

  “We cannot go on as we are.” He nodded at Durian. “What world do we live in when the demonkind have begun to protect humans from the magekind? The time for change is long past.” The mage took a business card from his pocket and slid it across the table to her. “If you need my help, I will do what I can. It is the least I can do.”

  “Thanks.” She took the card and stuck it in her pocket.

  “I look forward to hearing from Nikodemus, Assassin.”

  “I’ll let him know.”

  They watched Leonidas walk out. Through the window, he said nothing to his magehelds as he passed them. But they followed him all the same. Because they had no choice.

  A few minutes later, she grabbed her jacket and walked out. Durian followed. They didn’t speak until they were on Kearney Street and long out of sight of the café.

  “We can continue to walk, if you wish.”

  Gray came to a halt. “Do you think he meant that?”

  “I don’t know.” He pulled her into his arms, and she stayed against him when he moved them out of the way of most of the pedestrian traffic. He stroked her hair. “I hope that he does. And yet, if he does, there will be chaos.”

  “We need to get my sister away from Christophe.”

  “I think,” he said slowly, “the sooner we do that, the better.”

  CHAPTER 25

  The next day. Piedmont, California

  They don’t know I’m alive.” Gray folded her arms around her waist when she and Durian stood outside her parents’ house. Their target wasn’t the main house but the granny unit in back where Emily had lived and where her own life had come to an end. She shivered even though she wasn’t cold. Her old life stared back at her, dredging up memories she’d rather not face.

  “They must continue to think so,” he said. “For a while longer. Until we know what happened.”

  He was right. Until then they wouldn’t be safe. “I came over to meet Emily’s new boyfriend.”

  “Christophe, I presume.”

  She nodded, shoved her hands into her front pockets and hunched her shoulders against the bite of the wind she didn’t feel. “There were bodies,” she said. “Afterward. Including one that was supposed to be me. Christophe showed me the articles about it. It had our pictures in it. Emily’s and mine.”

  “A mage as powerful as Christophe could easily have done the magic that would transform a human’s physical appearance.” Durian, too, gazed across the street. She didn’t get much from their link except a sense that he was thinking things over. “We know the woman you saw killed was not your sister.”

  “Good enough to get through an autopsy?”

  He looked at her. “The kin have been living among humans for a very long time. We have learned a great deal about how to pass without revealing ourselves. The magekind have been no less resourceful.”

  Gray shook her head. She hardly knew what to think anymore. She didn’t want to go inside the house where everything had ended, just like she didn’t want to be standing here, confronting the past. “Everything looks the same. Like a movie I’ve seen. Not anything that really happened. Familiar. And not familiar.”

  The elms shading the street grew large, with thick, gnarled branches. A few oaks grew here, but not young ones. These oaks had been growing before the area was ever settled and now had trunks too large to get arms around. In a few places, the roads had been diverted around the massive trees.

  “I don’t belong here. Not anymore.”

  “Perhaps not,” he said in a low voice.

  “You could.” She pointed behind them to where his Volvo was parked. “That car belongs here. Look at you. If you had a briefcase, anyone who saw you would think you’re some white collar worker pulling down six figures.”

  He reached to realign the crease along the front of his trousers. “You grew up here. Not I.”

  Had she really once walked this sidewalk, barely old enough to be out without supervision? “No one could look at me and think I belong anywhere near a million-dollar home.” She scrubbed her hands through her hair. “The neighbors are probably looking out the window thinking you’re some hottie from three blocks over. Parking out of sight so no one knows you’re bringing home the skanky girlfriend to do nasty things to you during your lunch hour.”

  His expression was inscrutable. “Very nasty.”

  He stepped off the sidewalk and Gray followed him. Did the Witmarks still live next door? Did they even talk to her parents anymore after what had happened? A neighbor’s misfortunes brought a community together or tore it apart. Which one had happened here?

  He paused on the sidewalk in front of her old house. With a look at her, he said, “Consider this another lesson.”
/>   She squinted because a ray of sun through the trees was in her face. His mouth quirked, but he wasn’t smiling. “What?”

  “It’s crucial that we make no mistakes once we are inside. Maintain your calm no matter what memories may come to you. Observing me will help keep you focused.” He touched just behind her ear. Such light contact, but the gentleness of it rocked her. “I will understand if that is not possible.”

  Gray nodded. Her stomach clenched with tension, though. Everyone thought she’d died here. In a way, she had.

  “If there is trouble of any kind, please expect me to take over. By which I mean, take control.” He tapped her forehead and their link deepened. “Not an indwell, unless it’s for some reason necessary.”

  In her head, she made sure her memories were too far away for her to get to.

  He put a hand on her waist. “I may have no choice.”

  She wheeled to face him, and this time emotion did flare sharper than expected. Not the kind of control Durian wanted to see from her. “Whatever you need to do to find out what happened, you do it. Don’t ask permission. Don’t worry if I’m going to get all upset.” She met his gaze. “Just do what needs to be done.”

  He nodded. “I’ll mask our presence when we go in. Do the same if you can. Unless we are unlucky, there is little chance we will be disturbed. Inside, I’ll need to concentrate on my magic. We will not have the same protections, is that clear?”

  “Yes.”

  “Very well, then.” He touched her forehead. All business. She thought he was sexy as hell like this. His fingertip was warm against her skin. The connection between them came alive in her head. There was a sensation of bringing the energy toward him to be shaped according to his need. She felt the burn of him drawing his magic, the specific twisting of the air around them that prevented others—human or otherwise—from taking notice of them.

  Her mother, a Superior Court Judge in nearby Oakland, was unlikely to be home, but her father might be. Depending on his class schedule. When they crossed the street her sense of detachment increased. That came from Durian and it was useful to take up some of his calm. She remembered even though she didn’t want to. Bringing in the mail after school, her mom or dad driving her to ballet classes and piano lessons or years later, visiting for the holidays, and later still coming here to see Emily. She remembered her sister opening the door to her knock.