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  ASSASSIN’S KISS

  SHARON KAY

  This is a work of fiction. Any actual places are used in a fictional context. Other names of places and people are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual places or people is purely coincidental.

  ASSASSIN’S KISS

  Edited by Janet Michelson

  Cover art by Kim Killion at The Killion Group, Inc.

  Interior design by Ink Slinger Editorial Services

  FIRST EDITION

  ASSASSIN’S KISS © 2015 Sharon Kay

  ISBN-13: 978-1519706249

  ISBN-10: 1519706243

  BOOKS BY SHARON KAY

  The Solsti Prophecy series

  WICKED WIND

  WICKED WAVES

  WICKED FLAMES

  ON WICKED GROUND

  Companion to the Solsti Prophecy series

  KISSED BY A DEMON SPY: A NOVELLA

  The Watcher’s Kiss series

  TAINTED KISS

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  First, a huge, sincere THANK YOU to my readers! Without you, these stories would remain untold. Your support, comments, and messages motivate me and mean more to me than I can possibly express.

  Thank you to my amazing husband, for your patience and support of my writing. You are wonderful to brainstorm with about plots and powers. I love you!

  Thank you to my son. I love everything we do together. I love your bright and curious mind, and your endless questions (and thank you to Google for helping me answer them)!

  Thank you to my parents and siblings, my in-laws, and my extended family for your love and encouragement of my creativity.

  Thank you to my critique partners and beta readers: Cam, Claudia, Cristin, Heather, Jamie K., Jamie S., Nicola, Andrea, and Toshia. Your opinions, advice, and nit-pickiness are invaluable, often hilarious, and always spot-on!

  Thank you to the trio of women who make my plain Word document into a professional-looking book: Amanda Simpson, my cover designer at Pixel Mischief; Janet Michelson, my eagle-eyed editor; and Cheryl Murphy at Ink Slinger Editorial Services, my formatter and savior from the scary world of ebook html-coding.

  And a big hug and kiss to the many bloggers I have had the joy to work with. The support you give to indie authors is amazing. Many of you have jobs and families and still make time to read and review dozens (if not hundreds) of books each year, providing exposure for us through insightful and witty reviews, blog tours, cover reveals, and contests. THANK YOU!

  ASSASSIN’S KISS

  LOCKING EMOTIONS AWAY IS HOW Scorpio survived years as a conscripted killer. Now, as a Lash Watcher, he uses the same lethal skills to help his fellow warrior demons maintain peace in the realms. When a mission goes awry, he finds himself a thousand miles from home with no weapons or comms. Injured and alone, he is taken in by a group of witches who know him well.

  And want him dead.

  Tessa’s affinity with metal makes her one of the most powerful witches in her coven. Her deepest wish is to stop the oppression of her people-a direct result of her former leader’s murder. She agrees to marry the chief of a rival coven, knowing it won’t be a love match. But she abandoned the idea of a soul-deep bond long ago. Especially one with the rough, former mercenary warrior who shows up and claims she belongs to him.

  Even from behind bars, the longer Scorpio stays, the more he unsettles Tessa and she questions all she thought she knew. Choosing him will put everyone she cares for at risk. He’s nothing like she expected, and the last thing she could dare to want.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Epilogue

  Glossary

  About Sharon Kay

  P

  ROLOGUE

  Winter Realm, one hundred and ten years ago

  THROUGH INKY DARKNESS, SCORPIO NEARED the designated village, padding on stealthy feet. Snaking through the woods on a well-worn path that had been cleared of snow, his enhanced sense of smell was his compass. The rustic stone house to the left was rife with the target’s scent, but a deep inhale of the crisp cold air told him that the scent wasn’t strong enough. The male witch had gone out.

  Following the scent through the trees surrounding the village, Scorpio discerned another one: a female. And sex. His mark wasn’t alone.

  No matter. She’d better not get in the way, or she’d meet his demonfire. Scorpio’s job was to eliminate this mage. The unfortunate male had pissed off Scorpio’s employer, Dalamos, and now he’d pay.

  Dalamos had unleashed his most powerful weapon, Scorpio. His personal mercenary.

  A muffled giggle reached Scorpio’s ears as he walked soundlessly through the forest. Moving off the trail, his feet landed in perfect stillness on the packed snow. He left no trace of his presence, save for the puffs of breath that escaped his lungs, only to linger in the cold air for a second before dissipating. Dark tree trunks speared up from hardened ground and a few bare branches dared to hang in his way.

  He didn’t walk the obvious path; instead he chose a parallel, hidden route. One that would surprise even the most paranoid of targets. Funny, one could argue that’s how his life had turned out. His brutally efficient outward actions seemed to define him, but obscured the true motivation that made his heart beat with the urgent need to protect.

  Fury pounded a drumbeat in his mind at the memory of his sister taunted by Dalamos’s new guard earlier that night. The male had spared no detail of the ways he would violate her, should Scorpio not succeed here.

  Scorpio clenched his fists and shoved the thought aside. If the death of this mage prevented the rape of his sister, there was nothing to question.

  Pausing behind a massive sycamore tree, he spied his target and the female. They embraced on a stone bridge that rose in an arch above a lazy river. Ice floes dotted the water, but the current was just strong enough to resist a solid freeze.

  The two didn’t know he was there.

  They didn’t possess the enhanced senses that Scorpio did, though the mage had grown strong in his magic. Sorcerers, witches, and any magic wielders had been known to use their familiarity with animals to help them out in this regard. One could never be too careful.

  Though he was able to summon fire balls in his hand, Scorpio instead reached for his bow. Flames would light up the dark forest, giving the mage a split second to prepare.

  Silently, Scorpio drew back his arm and set his eyes on the male, who was as clear to him as if it were daylight. Another benefit of his demonic senses.

  He stood frozen, watching the couple kiss and lean into one another. The female was a witch; the cedar scent she left in the air gave that fact away. No telling how powerful she was though.

  With soft moans, their kiss shifted into a tender embrace, and the new position gave Scorpio a clear shot at the mage’s neck.

  His fingers readied
to release his arrow. Three, two, one—

  The arrow sailed from his bow in the same second that a raven gave a guttural rasp high above.

  The mage twisted to one side, and the arrow flew harmlessly through the air where he’d just been.

  Scorpio charged forward, not bothering to be quiet. The element of surprise was gone. Goddamn animals.

  He summoned a ball of demonfire in his hand and flung it, but the mage countered with a blue ball of witchfire. The two spheres collided over the water, exploding into a brilliant burst of sparks that drifted harmlessly onto the current.

  “Who the fuck are you?” the mage yelled.

  Scorpio was on the bridge now, closing the distance. “I work for Dalamos. The last batch of spelled weapons that you created for him was defective.” It didn’t matter if the mage knew who he was; his time in the realm of the living was down to minutes.

  “Those blades were fine!” the male shouted.

  “They didn’t hit their targets. I’d say take up the argument with him, but he’s already decided he wants you dead.” Scorpio conjured another ball of fire and stared at the witch, who huddled close to her male’s side. “Out of the way, female.”

  “No!” she shrieked. “Please don’t! How could you do this? We-we can make new weapons.”

  Scorpio shrugged and threw his fire, then summoned a rapid succession of a dozen more balls. Hurling them one after another, he aimed for any part of the mage he could hit.

  The male and female did their best to counter him with their own fire and spells, but Scorpio was faster. He was a predator. It was in his blood. His last fireball struck the female in the leg and she howled—a ripped, agonized cry that rent the night.

  “No!” The mage gathered her in his arms. “My dearest one, hold on. I can heal you.” He turned raging eyes to Scorpio. “Your fight is with me! Not her!”

  “I warned her.” Scorpio conjured another fireball and drew his arm back.

  “Stop, demon!” a new, shrill voice called from the opposite side of the bridge.

  “Stay out of this.” Scorpio scowled at the petite female shuffling onto the stones. Gray hair tumbled down to her waist and she walked with a hunch. The one green eye he could see was bright, while the other was covered with a black patch.

  “They are newly joined!” the old witch growled, her voice surprisingly fierce for her little body. “You have no idea what they have gone through to find each other. They are no harm to anyone. Leave this place!”

  Scorpio shook his head. He had his orders. These witches and their village were meaningless to him. Each mark, each job, was only another in a series of assignments to complete.

  If he didn’t complete them, the only creatures in this world worth his affection would suffer.

  His younger twin siblings, sister Kira and brother Raff, had been prisoners of Dalamos as long as he had been there. Age fifteen and attractive, they were devoured with lecherous eyes by all in Dalamos’s employ.

  Only Scorpio’s successful jobs kept them safe and untouched.

  “Don’t care. Move, witch.” Scorpio drew closer.

  The male had dropped to cradle the female in his arms. They stared at each other wordlessly. Maybe speaking through the mental link that some couples shared. Fucking sappy…and dangerous.

  Scorpio ducked as an arrow of light fired from an amulet the female held. With a soft pop, it dissolved behind him on the stone.

  Enough. With cold dispassion, Scorpio yanked a blade from his thigh sheath and flung it into the male’s neck.

  He made a garbled sound. The female screamed and struggled to her feet, stumbling on her injured leg. “No!” she screamed over and over. Blue jagged streaks of light shimmered around her as she tried to formulate a spell.

  The male slumped to the stone. The female took one glance at him then turned to Scorpio, eyes suddenly calm and full of malice. “Die, demon!” She raised her hands and magic shot forth from her palms. Two flares of purple light stretched toward him, racing through the dark night.

  Scorpio dropped and rolled to one side, then leaped to his feet. In a fluid motion, he grabbed a dagger from the many he had concealed on his body, and threw it.

  It landed with unerring precision—in her heart.

  He strode to the couple and yanked his weapons from their bodies, wiping the blood on their own cloaks.

  The old witch clenched her fists. “You are the devil,” she hissed. “You will suffer for what you have done here.”

  Scorpio sheathed his weapons and allowed a frisson of relief to ease his mind. His family would be safe for another night. “Witch, I’m not the devil. I just work for him.”

  She held her hands wide. “These two had just discovered the joy of bonded love. They did nothing to you. Nothing!” Her voice grew strong as she stared hard at Scorpio and spoke rapidly. “I curse you now, demon. One day you will meet your destined mate. The very instant you are in her presence, you will recognize that she is your other half, your female, and you will be seized with the need to claim her. You will ache with the need to complete the bond. But she…” the witch’s voice grew low, “she will despise you for the monster you are. She will avoid you as if you’re poison to her. You will be in agony, demon. Let it be done!”

  A breeze coiled around the witch as she spoke, and in a cold rush, it blasted Scorpio’s body. He stepped back, but it didn’t matter. There was nothing to step back from, as the chilled air was gone as soon as it arrived, leaving a curious prickle across his skin. In seconds, that too was gone.

  The witch huffed and turned to walk back to the other side of the bridge. Scorpio shook his head. Mate? Not in the cards. He was already living his life for two people. Every action was for his brother and sister. Every kill, every drop of blood, every scar he received. It would be nothing compared to the depravity the twins would endure at the hands of Dalamos’s men, if Scorpio didn’t continue with each grisly task.

  Fuck mating. He’d never wanted that. “Your effort is wasted, witch,” he called after her.

  She half-turned as she reached the far side. “No, demon. My spells might only be related to matters of the heart, and not of great weapons or wards,” she paused, one eye piercing him, “but they always, always…come to fruition.”

  C

  HAPTER 1

  Realm of Torth, Present day

  SCORPIO’S FINGERS CLOSED AROUND THE bars of his cell in the garrison of the witch village. Normally, he’d be able to rip them from the wooden walls of the small building, but not this time. His cell was under the effect of a dampening spell. And he’d been seriously injured.

  His acute senses were dimmed, his strength was diminished, and he couldn’t summon demonfire. But he’d been in worse situations. And anyway, he was going to be moved from here soon.

  Brought out for judgement, his jailer had said a few days ago.

  Until then, he’d bide his time and let his body finish healing as fast as possible with the damn spell hindering it.

  Until then, he’d act like he wasn’t a threat.

  Because once he was out, he could track her.

  For the week he’d been locked up, he hadn’t caught the intoxicating scent of female twined with honeysuckle. He had no idea who it belonged to or what she looked like. But he wasn’t leaving here until he found her. That fragrance curled into his senses and captivated him, binding him with curiosity and desire unlike anything he’d ever felt.

  He had to see who it belonged to. See, touch, and know. This female was heart-stoppingly important, for reasons he couldn’t explain.

  A key jangled in the lock of the outer door, rousing him from his thoughts, and a familiar red-haired female strode in. Inga, the coven’s healer.

  “Good morning, demon.” She walked close to his cell, staying just out of reach should he stretch his arms through the bars. Seconds passed as she assessed him with purely clinical efficiency, as she’d done every day, using the power of her mind. “It appears you are fully h
ealed.”

  “About damn time.” He gestured to the cell around him.

  “It is necessary and you know it.” She folded her arms. “Better to take a week to heal than to die.”

  He grunted. So far, the witches hadn’t treated him badly, but that might only be because they wanted him at full health in order to practice torture spells on him. “When are you letting me out?”

  “I’ll report your health status to Chief Mage Hallon and we’ll see what he says.”

  The outer door burst open and a tall dark-haired male entered. “Inga.” He glared at the healer. “It’s not safe for you to be in here alone with him.”

  “Seriously, Orser?” Inga rolled her eyes. “If he could get out, he would have done it on day one.”

  “Wrong. He could barely stand on day one,” Orser growled.

  That was true. The way Scorpio had ended up here, among people who hated him, was one of the more bizarre things that he’d experienced in his long life. He still didn’t fully understand it.

  He’d been on an op with his team of Watchers and it had gone south fast. The enemy had some kind of explosive spell charges that had activated his pre-spelled transportation amulet. But instead of taking him home to Watcher HQ, he’d landed on the sharp rocks of the Bronwy River. With broken ribs and a gaping thigh wound, he’d been an easy target for the witches to find and bring in.

  Of course they remembered him from the last time he was here. Twenty years ago, he’d killed the previous chief.

  Now the coven wanted him dead, as well. Never mind that he’d been forced into life as a conscripted killer. The why of it didn’t matter to the witches. He would stand before their judgement if that’s what they wanted.

  A gray shape darted around the door that Orser had left cracked. The jailer cursed, but not before the thing streaked across the wooden plank floor. It stopped in front of Scorpio, tail twitching.