An Assassin's Death

Home > Other > An Assassin's Death > Page 8
An Assassin's Death Page 8

by A. K. Koonce


  My legs shake as the orgasm crashes through me. I collapse on the bed, his hips pressing against my ass. He groans, my sex squeezing around his fingers as aftershocks rock through me.

  “Best wakeup call on the planet,” I mumble into my pillow, my arms turn to jello as I try to regain my strength. If he was going to kill me, now would be the time. I’m useless for anything but lying here beneath him. It’s been much too long since my body found release like that, especially at the hands of another.

  Pulling from me, Mason sits up and groans.

  “The sight of that ass.” His palm skims slowly over my hip and across my ass before coming back to his side. I catch him adjusting himself through his jeans and he bites his lip adorably, his eyes never leaving my backside.

  “I always reciprocate.” My orgasm’s still tingling through my body but I still want more. I want him. Sitting up, I reach for him but he catches my wrist with fast reflexes.

  “As much as I’d like that…” His eyes burn into mine. “…we were expected at the house about fifteen minutes ago.”

  “I doubt they’ll miss our presence that much.” I arch an eyebrow. What a gentleman, giving me some while denying himself. I’m not used to it. It’s… different. Sweet almost?

  His eyes flash. “I’ll take a raincheck.” Scooting closer to me, he rubs a thumb down my bottom lip, watching his own small movement like a hawk. Without another word, he disengages and stands, and then it’s my turn to watch. Slipping his fingers into his mouth, he sucks my essence off of his hand while I stare, open-mouthed.

  “So sweet.” He lets his eyes roam over my figure one last time before disappearing from the room on quiet steps. “Ten minutes, Alexa.” Then silence.

  Rolling my eyes, I flop back down onto the bed. These guys are going to be the death of me.

  Fifteen

  A Trial Phase

  I spend most of the day in my head. Relaxed. Pleasant even. It’s just such a nice day. My newfound happiness seems to set my asshole teammates on edge.

  When my thoughts return to me, I realize Rory and Tylin are both glaring at me from over their lunch. Sub sandwiches are poised in their hands, not one bite is taken as they glare daggers at my simple aloofness.

  Maybe I’m not the only one who needs to get laid around here.

  “You’re acting weird.” Tylin finally takes a large bite of the soft bread. Suspicion is in his narrowed eyes.

  Can they not just eat their fucking food like normal men without thinking I called ahead to the deli to request their finest poisons as a condiment?

  “I’m not being weird.”

  Tylin side eyes Mouse for all of three seconds. Mase passes me an innocent look. I sit perched on the counter once again, far away from their little close-knit group. I didn’t order their yummy lunch. I’m barely included in their discussions. And now I’m suspicious just because I had a damn orgasm today.

  Tylin’s brows lower as he looks to Mouse once again.

  “She’s not being weird,” Mase says casually before taking his own bite.

  Aww, someone revive my little black heart, that man just stood up for me.

  And unlike Jameson, he didn’t ask for repayment. Yes, Mason is a god among men. These guys could learn some manners from this sweet man.

  “She’s probably just on her period. You know how girls are.” Mason shrugs. His extraordinary explanation has all four of them nodding their little pea brains in unison.

  My lips part as my brows lower over my fuming gaze.

  What a fucking asshole.

  “I think,” my words are clipped and loud and make all four of them tense from the sound of my tone, “you and I both know I’m not on my period, Mason.” I can’t believe I was going to blow him an hour ago. He’ll be lucky if I don’t break his hand the next time he tries to touch me.

  Not his right hand though, because… really, he has a god given talent with those fingers. And who am I to hold a grudge against someone so gifted?

  “What does that mean?” Rory chews slowly as his eyes bore into Mason from across the table.

  I sit back a little more comfortably now. I’m just pleased I’m no longer the star of their little shit show.

  “Yes, Mase, what does that mean?” I blink wide and innocent eyes. His head tilts slowly and he pins me with a smirk that tingles all through me. It’s like a reminder of how he touched me. I shift against the countertop. My cocky smile is no longer in place.

  Yes, I think I’ll definitely have to forgive him at some point.

  But today is not that day.

  “You look hungry.” Mason doesn’t acknowledge Rory’s question at all. He stands. Only one bite has been taken from the fluffy Italian sub and he brings his plate right to me. His fingers graze my thigh as he sits the food down, the plate clattering lightly against the countertop. “You can have my food.”

  He only holds my gaze for a second before walking toward the door.

  “You don’t have to give me your food, Mouse,” I call after him.

  The smile he passes me from over his shoulder sends reckless tingling energy down my body. His palm pushes against the white door that leads to the hall.

  “I guess you’ll have to owe me one.” His humming voice drills right through my core. The sensuous sound of it settles within me and I can’t stop myself from smiling.

  He’s still not forgiven.

  Not yet anyway.

  I hop down from my bird’s eye view. Without looking at their curious gazes, I pick up the plate of my food, and take the empty seat between Jameson and Tylin.

  Yes, I fit nicely here. I like this seat. This will be my seat now.

  “Did you two fuck?” Jameson is the only one willing to make small talk with me.

  Unfortunately, his topic of discussion is blunt and less than amusing.

  “No, we didn’t fuck.” The soft bread meets my lips. The flavors of mayo, cheeses and meat make me want to devour the small meal like an animal.

  I don’t. I chew slowly, savoring every single bite. It isn’t like the food I have at home. It’s fresh and prepared with perfection. Not at all like the dumpster diving trash I’m used to.

  “Did you guys—” Jameson’s question is surely about my sex life and I almost thank Tylin personally when he interrupts.

  “We have a task for you.”

  He’s set aside his sandwich, but I continue to eat. I lick my lower lip and give him my fullest attention while I take another savory bite.

  “Did your boss tell you there’s a special event coming up?” He cocks a brow at me when I take another intentional bite. “All the highest-ranking assassins will be there. Tell me, did he invite you?”

  Tylin’s cold gaze seeps into me with a chilling sensation that I feel right down to the bones. A nagging feeling twists my stomach and I finally put the food down and pretend to be an adult for a moment.

  I wasn’t invited. Because I’m going to be disposed of ...

  “How do you know about the event?” I watch him closely. The muscles of his forearms flex as his palms turn. It’s a casual gesture. As if to say it’s not a big deal, but he and I both know it’s a big fucking deal.

  “It’s my job to know.”

  “While you and Mouse were out painting each other’s nails and becoming BFF’s, we’ve been busy.” Rory pushes his chair out, letting it scape harshly against the tile floor before taking his plate to the sink. He doesn’t say another kind word to me as he exits the room on stalking steps.

  “In two weeks, you’ll be in attendance of this event. We’re not sure of the details yet. For now, you’ll make note of what’s said and what’s done and then you’ll bring those notes here. To me.” The sharp angles of his face keep my attention. He’s all hard lines and serious features. He’s attractive in a dangerous way.

  When he says ‘I’ll be in attendance’, I know what he really means. He means I’m disposable. There’s a reason why they would have me do this task instead of any of t
hem. I don’t refute the order he gives, even though I have a thousand questions simmering within me.

  I simply nod.

  I nod to him the way I would Armond because I know that’s what is expected of me. I’m their teammate but right now I’m in a trial phase. If I succeed; congratulations, another task will be assigned to break you. If I fail; congratulations. You’re dead.

  Sixteen

  Drunken Mistakes

  The night passes slowly. It’s late and I should go back to the League but I can’t find the energy to. There’s an event being held. One I was intentionally left out of…

  I’m still sulking in the kitchen. I spent the day trying to glean information from the guys, but they were careful to keep me on the edge of their precious little group. I have no more information this evening than I had this morning. Lucky for me I found the single most powerful thing in the entire house.

  Liquor.

  It isn’t lost on me that it’s a half a bottle of Jameson. The bottle meets my lips and just as I take another drink, Jameson himself walks in.

  “Mmm you look good like that.” His half-smirk has me rolling my eyes even as I swallow another big drink.

  It burns down every inch of my throat before settling warmly in my stomach. My arms cross, still clinging to the bottle as I stare at him in the dark kitchen. Streaks of pale moonlight wash over his smooth skin, shadowing each defined line on his stomach.

  When I start to notice how long I’ve been staring at him, I suddenly realize I’ve drank a bit too much.

  “What’s Rory’s deal? Why’s he so damn moody?” I narrow my gaze on him, trying harder to see him.

  He stalks closer to me, taking the bottle from my hand. The smooth skin of his lower stomach brushes against my arm as he tips the bottle back and takes a drink. The column of his throat is exposed to me and I can’t help but study the lines of his collar bones, the curve of his biceps, the strong veins of his forearm.

  Oh my god, I have got to stop drinking.

  His tongue slips along his lips as he hands the alcohol back over. His palms press to the shining granite countertop and he pushes himself onto my favorite spot with ease.

  With less grace, I shove myself onto the counter as well. He steadies me with his hand along my elbow, smirking at me as I settle in next to him.

  “Rory is… different.” His tone isn’t teasing for once. He sounds entirely serious. “I think all assassins are powerful. It’s like his mark is inked deeper than others, though.” With a big hand he pushes his pale hair from his face as he considers his friend’s abilities. “While most of us have to put effort into using our power, he has to put thought into containing it. He’s tense because he’s physically holding himself together. I saw him crumple a ship once. The whole damn thing. He sunk it like a rock. It was both amazing and terrifying.”

  My brows raise and I take another sip.

  Huh, maybe I should cut him some slack. Or, at the very least, not piss him off.

  Maybe I should give all of them a break. Jameson isn’t half bad actually. He’s kind of nice to talk to when he isn’t being a total fuckstick.

  “What’s your ability like?” He peers at me from beneath his long lashes.

  I get the feeling this is going to turn into another awful one liner from him, but as I said, I’m going to start giving them the benefit of the doubt.

  “It’s interesting. Helpful. Tingling.”

  “Show me.” The thin material of his sweatpants brushes my thigh as he turns closer to me.

  I swallow down the thick aftertaste of the alcohol and put all of my hazy attention into trying to stop time. The soft glow of pale light warms my palms.

  I feel it click right through me the moment it halts. It presses against my chest. An energy alive with power courses through my veins. My fingers skim my hip and I realize I never put my pocket watch back on. A small feeling of worry sinks through me. Then I remember the notes on Armond’s desk. I’ll never wear that damn watch again.

  I push aside the angry thoughts and find that Jameson is at my side, frozen within my powers. I boop him on his nose once for good measure and there isn’t a thing he can do about it.

  I consider pushing him right off the counter as well, but I have to put serious work into turning over that new leaf and being a better person and yadda, yadda and such.

  As I put the bottle to my lips once more, I release my hold on time.

  A slow smile spreads across his face.

  God, he’s entirely too attractive. It’s a laid-back sort of sexiness like he doesn’t have to try at all.

  I look quickly away from him, putting my attention on the shining table in the far corner. I wonder which one of them is keeping this place so clean?

  I can’t for the life of me imagine Rory’s massive body gliding a mop around this room.

  “That was incredible.”

  It takes time to turn my head back to him. My every move feels sluggish and weighted.

  I should probably put this bottle down.

  Another drink slips across my lips, and I chide myself once more.

  When I do finally look at him, thin currents of electricity spark between his fingertips. He literally holds raw power in the palm of his hand. I don’t know why, but I have the worst urge to touch the gleaming colors that are flickering from one finger to the next.

  The lightning reflects against his gaze, turning his pretty eyes into a shimmering crystal-like color that flashes with power. There’s intrigue in his gaze. He looks just as amazed by his power as I am.

  His palm splays wide, almost flat but not quite. The veering lines stretch in his hand. Zapping sounds of energy strike between his fingers.

  Before I can stop myself, I slam my palm against his. His power stings through my veins, burning up my arm and striking right through my heart.

  “Fuck, Alexa,” his hand gently touches my arm as my eyes clench closed, “are you okay?”

  The sparking energy settles quietly within me but I can’t help but think about the way it felt. It was painful but powerful. Strumming jolts start to tingle warmly within me. My eyes flash open.

  And then a current of electricity jars through my body. It slashes through me and exits my fingertips. The bottle in my hand flashes with colors of white and blue. It lights up the entire room with bright beauty before I drop it.

  The alcohol hits the floor, clattering across the tile with broken glass and amber liquid.

  For several seconds, Jameson and I both just stare at the mess I’ve made.

  When he finally speaks, I realize the real mess I’ve made.

  “How the fuck did you do that?”

  I shouldn’t have done that. Nothing good can come of these men knowing something about me that not even I understand.

  I leap from the counter. My boots slip against the slickness of the floor. I nearly fall into the glass as I struggle to find a steady balance. Then he’s right there.

  The warm feel of his palms on my arm sobers me in a way. He pulls me against him. He steadies me. My fingers push against the smooth skin of his chest and, for a moment, I can’t do anything except stare up into the intensity of his beautiful eyes. An energy hums to life between us. His palms settle low on my back, warm against my skin. I’m all too aware of how loudly my heart’s beating just from his nearness.

  “Are you okay?” The low tone of his voice reverberates right through me.

  I don’t speak. I can’t manage to say one word. I fucked up. I shouldn’t have been talking to him in the first place and now everything’s a mess.

  His head tilts and I find myself mirroring his movements until his lips hover just above mine. He’d be a good kisser. His confidence stems from somewhere. An ache presses through my chest just thinking about the things he could do with his tongue.

  I think I’m getting distracted.

  “I don’t know what the hell it was that you just did,” his whispered words fan across my lips as he holds my gaze, “but
I’m going to trust you.” He pauses and every inch of his body is aligned with mine. His heart beats hard against my chest. “If that power’s something you want to tell the others about, then that’s for you to decide. I’m trusting you.” The sincerity of his voice settles into my chest. “Don’t fuck me over, Lex.”

  For some reason, I expect him to release me then. I expect him to saunter away from me just as all the other men in this house have done today.

  Except he doesn’t.

  He holds me just like that with his eyes shining in such a promising way. No one’s ever kept a secret for me. No one’s ever tried to be my friend before.

  It’s such a foreign feeling, I don’t even know how to respond to him.

  I’m tired of trying to impress these men. I’m exhausted from simply trying to stay alive. For once, I take the easy way out.

  My head tilts down. My hands are held between us in a less than intimate way as I settle my head against his chest. His warm scent washes over me and I snuggle deeper into his embrace. Strong arms hold me firmly against him in the silence of the night.

  I don’t know how long we stand like that. Long enough for my stress and anxiety to pass us by.

  He holds me like I’m irreplaceable to him.

  I know I’m not.

  But it doesn’t stop me from believing it for a quiet moment.

  Seventeen

  Love and Loyalty

  When daylight hits my eyes, I wince away from the warm hues of gold and orange. My hands cover my face but it doesn’t stop the pain from piercing through my skull.

  And just like the night before, Jameson holds me in his arms.

  My hands raise away from his arm that’s draped across my abdomen. I hold them awkwardly in the air for several seconds.

  “Relax. I’m not going ask for repayment for sleeping in my bed. Consider it a free pass.” A teasing smile pulls at the corner of his lips. “This time.”

  His hard body warms my side. Thick blankets surround us, cocooning us away from the world. He’s warm. Smooth skin and hard muscle tone. Even his scent is calming and delicious perfection all wrapped up in a soft cotton blanket.

 

‹ Prev