Assassin's Kiss Page 3
“Tessa?” Zeebi’s voice carried through the pines, mildly bored. “Did you find Jinx? I say we let her fend for her—”
Her best friend’s voice cut off as Tessa barreled into her, high up on the path.
“Tess! Oh my god, what happened?” Zeebi grabbed her shoulders. “What’s wrong?”
Tessa clutched her friend as if her life depended on their touch. She shot a glance over her shoulder, but of course, he hadn’t followed.
He couldn’t. Because he was imprisoned.
And she’d hit him with witchfire.
Because he was a murderer.
Disgust and nausea rolled her stomach. The look he’d given her made her skin crawl.
“Hey.” Zeebi pulled her in for a hug. “You’re scaring me. What’s going on?”
“He…” Tessa began. But couldn’t finish. What exactly had he done? Looked at her like he wanted to lock her up and do unspeakable things to her?
But he was the one locked up. She was safe.
“Who?” Zeebi released her and gave her a curious look.
“The…prisoner.” Tessa couldn’t bring herself to say his name. Everyone knew it. Everyone knew the name of the monster who had killed their former leader. The loss of Pennar hadn’t just meant the loss of a good sorcerer. It had spelled the loss of their home, some of their people, and part of their income. Not to mention the growth of unchecked dark magic.
“Scorpio? You saw him?”
Tessa nodded and shuddered.
“What happened?” Zeebi looked her up and down.
Good question. Tessa shoved a hand into her pocket, trying to settle her mind down. “He was in the cage.”
“Hmm, they moved him? I heard they were waiting for him to heal…how’d he look?”
Tessa blinked, recalling the demon who’d made her heart race, and not in a good way. He hadn’t appeared injured, save for a smattering of fresh welts that she guessed had come from the rocks in the pentagram. His clothes hung torn and ragged on his huge body. His biceps looked like he could kill a wolf with their strength. His jaw angled in a strong line, and his lips were too full for such a monster. His hair was buzzed so short she had no idea what color it was…but his eyes were an oddly mesmerizing golden hue.
Not what she’d expected from a mercenary.
She took a breath. “He looked okay. At least until I blasted him with witchfire.”
Zeebi grinned and held up a hand. “High five, girl. He deserves it.”
Tessa smacked her friend’s hand, but her heart wasn’t in it and Zeebi knew.
“What else?” Zeebi’s gray eyes narrowed.
“He, um…” Tessa didn’t know if this was awful, embarrassing, hateful, or all three. “He said something…it doesn’t make any sense.”
“What? Like he was pissed off at you?”
“No. He got all crazy, reaching for me and said… ‘Mine.’” Tessa winced, as if repeating it made it more real.
“Mine? What the hell does that mean? You’ve never seen him before.”
“I know.”
“Maybe you look like someone he used to know,” Zeebi mused. “Does he have a mate?”
“Ugh. Who’d mate a killer like him?”
“Another killer.”
Tessa frowned. “That’s awful. But possible. And I don’t know anything about him, just what he did to Pennar.”
“Word is he was the personal mercenary to a Ghazsul named Dalamos.”
“I don’t care. I feel like I need to take a shower after the way he looked at me. It was creepy.”
“He didn’t touch you, right?” Zeebi asked.
“No! No way I’d get close enough.”
“You’ll have to tomorrow,” she muttered.
“Don’t remind me.”
“Anyway, no time to shower now. We have work to do.” Zeebi turned and started walking along a splinter path. “Shower later. Those blades won’t spell themselves.”
Tessa followed her friend. She and Zeebi were gifted in metals, imbuing them with special properties. While many in the coven grew herbs and made all kinds of amulets, some were skilled in the construction of wards, and some made healing potions, Tessa and Zeebi had a rare gift.
And as soon as the Vespera coven found out, they’d demanded their work. Tessa especially, since her skill set was more powerful. She used her magic to make weapons stronger, to know their user, to fly true, or to create a burning sensation upon impact.
All horrible things she wouldn’t have to do if Pennar were alive to keep Vespera in check.
Rage flowed at her coven’s demise, replacing the sensation of loathing from the looks Scorpio had given her.
It was his fault that she was forced to help the enemy.
And his fault that she would soon join their ranks forever.
C
HAPTER 3
SCORPIO AWOKE TO A TICKLE in his nose and he sneezed, displacing a warm, purring bundle from his chest. Tiny claws pricked through his torn T-shirt as the cat scrambled off his pecs. Cool air rushed over him and he pushed up to a sitting position.
Sunlight streamed down in the clearing. Beyond the bars of his cage, witches talked in groups or walked from one building to another. At one side of the pentagram stood a guard.
One? Scorpio concealed his surprise. One guard, despite the spell, was a small obstacle. The bigger hurdle was the blue-eyed witch who’d knocked him unconscious.
Softness pushed at his calf and he glanced down at the cat. Why the thing had taken a shine to him, he had no idea—
Her.
It was hers.
He scooped the cat into his arms, where it settled against him and started licking his wrist with its tiny sandpaper tongue. The fuzz ball belonged to her. Even now, her scent wafted from the animal’s fur.
What in the fucking hell had happened?
He’d never seen her. But he knew without a doubt that she was his other half. And that made no sense. Mates had to get to know each other, fall in love, and then the bond would begin to form, crystallizing if the female accepted it.
A chill slithered through his stomach. Only if she accepted it.
And from the look on her face, acceptance was the last thing on her mind. Not to mention the burning blast of witchfire she’d lobbed at him.
He stared absently at the trees as blue jays shrieked and fought over choice perches. Had he come into contact with her at some point in his work for Dalamos or his Watcher duties?
No, he reasoned. He’d never forget someone so beautiful. Every feature looking like she was carved from marble. Every inch perfect.
He’d spent time around witches. They lived all over the realms. Some in village covens like this, or some alone within encrypted locales. Some even worked for Arawn at Watcher HQ, creating wards and amulets for the fighters, even coming along on the occasional operation to cast a curse…
Wait. No fucking way.
Denial and anger speared his heart like twin pokers as a hundred-year-old memory rocketed through his psyche. He leaped to his feet and paced the small space, eliciting a narrow-eyed glance from the guard. Scorpio tightened his hold on the cat as words spoken a lifetime ago taunted his mind, along with the image of a one-eyed female. The witch from the Winter Realm.
He’d forgotten the curse, filing it away as ridiculous. The strength and reliability of the spell depended on the witch who’d cast it.
Now her ominous intonation came back like a taunting arrow, each word piercing him full of dread. She will despise you for the monster you are.
My spells…always come to fruition.
No! He shook his head in disbelief. He had a life to lead. He’d escaped from the hell of working for Dalamos, had gotten his siblings out of there, and had risen in the Lash Watchers ranks to be in the inner circle, where the blood on his hands had been admitted, acknowledged and understood. His fellow fighters didn’t judge him for what he’d done when Raff and Kira had been used as pawns.
Your pa
st doesn’t define you, his wise comrade Ria had told him.
Yet here in Bronwy, hurt and anger had blasted a hole in any semblance of reason.
A mate wasn’t on his agenda.
Except that his body had decided that yes, indeed, it was. And that female belonged to him.
He dropped his head back. The cat looked up at him with wise yellow eyes.
“I don’t suppose you have any influence with your mistress,” Scorpio muttered. “What’d she call you? Jinx?”
The cat wiggled and he let it go, where it landed on all four paws and darted out into the trees. Scorpio scrubbed a hand over his jaw, rough with a week’s worth of stubble. He had to get out of there.
His eyes darted to the bars, examining them for dents and scratches from the rock-turned-boulder spell yesterday. A spot near the floor looked like it had taken a hit. He dropped to look closer.
The guard snorted. “Don’t even think about it, demon. Those bars are reinforced with magic. We’ve got the best witch with metal affinity in the realm right here.”
Scorpio glared. Every affinity had a weakness. He’d seen it all. He’d find this one.
But a bigger problem loomed.
He wasn’t leaving Bronwy without his mate.
Well, shit. He wasn’t about to break out of the bars, throw her over his shoulder caveman style, and run away with her. For one thing, they were across the realm from Watcher HQ. A thousand miles, and he had no quick way of getting them there. No phone. No amulet.
And she was powerful. Who knew what else she was capable of, but that witchfire of hers had been serious shit.
The look of revulsion was the biggest problem, though. She hadn’t had to say a word. Her emotions had come through loud and clear. He needed to convince her that he wasn’t a monster. Yet he sat behind bars, his actions known to every person around.
This might just be the toughest assignment he’d ever had, and he was looking forward to it.
Footsteps coming close drew his attention and he straightened. The guard did the same, puffing out his chest. The scent of honeysuckle wafted to Scorpio’s nose.
She strode toward him, clad in jeans and boots, and a tight fitting gray tank. She looked like she’d walked out of a dream, and any second he expected her to change direction. But she didn’t.
Shoulders back, her expression was unreadable but definitely not happy. The hue of her top dulled the shade of her eyes to a blue gray, but the fire inside still flickered.
He grabbed the bars at the front of the cage, squeezing tightly enough to snap them if not for the spell. “Your name,” he demanded.
She ignored him, stopping three feet away, and glanced at the guard.
He gave her a shrug. “Thinks he can find a weak spot in the bars.”
She turned an irritated look to Scorpio. “Of course he does.” She shook her head and her dark hair swished around her biceps. “Let’s get this shit show over with.”
Scorpio braced for a pain inducing spell. But her focus was the cage itself. She extended a hand and murmured words in a dialect he didn’t know. The bars heated and he dropped his hands, but no heat reached his body.
“It’s you,” Scorpio rasped. “You’re the one with metal affinity.”
The witch threw an angry glare at the guard. “Guess someone feels chatty today.”
He shrugged. “I just thought he should know there’s no way out until we let him out.”
“No need.” She continued her work, walking around the cage. “He’ll learn the hard way. Or not.”
This close, she was even more beautiful. Scorpio stood in the center of the cage, rotating to keep her in his line of sight, and simply watched in admiration. Would’ve been nicer if she wasn’t reinforcing his prison, but the urge to bind her to his side was stronger than anything else.
A smattering of delicate freckles crossed the bridge of her nose. Thick dark lashes swept out from those big blue eyes. Her hair shone in the sunlight, slightly wavy and thick.
She frowned at one bar and came closer. He could reach through and touch her but didn’t, held back by the knowledge that he’d probably spook her. “What’s your name?” He softened his tone.
“It’s not important.” Her tone was clipped.
“It is to me.” He stared at her, daring her to look him in the eye and refuse the question again.
“Your wants and needs have been negated by your actions.” She was matter of fact, not sarcastic, and he latched on to the knowledge that she could have been colder but wasn’t.
“There’s only one thing I want,” he growled. “Well, two.”
She gave him a look that said she’d rather be anywhere than here. “I don’t care.”
“You should. Because both involve you.” He drew a deep breath, her scent filling his lungs and stirring his body.
Ice flared in her eyes. “Too bad, because neither of whatever crazy shit you want is ever going to happen.”
He gritted his teeth, drawn to her spirit and raging with need to convince her. “I am a Watcher in Arawn’s ranks. I—”
“I don’t care.” She narrowed her eyes. “Why are you even talking? Save it for later, for the chief.”
“I’m talking because you have to listen.” He leaned closer to the now-cool bars. “You’re mine.”
Her eyes widened, reflecting the horror of last night that was quickly chased by a new emotion: withering disdain. “Is that a proposal? Because you don’t look like the greatest prospect.” Her gaze flicked to the bars and then to his face.
And that’s when he had her. “Not a proposal. I’m stating a fact.” Her breath caught, a tiny hitch that even with his hearing dampened, he detected. She could’ve stopped, could’ve broken his stare, but didn’t.
Her body vibrated with anger. “Listen, demon. I belong to no one. Not now, not ever.” Her voice hissed and her eyes burned bright. He sensed she was a hairbreadth away from snapping. “Got it?”
No. You’re mine. But he kept the knowledge to himself. He had so much to figure out about his mate, and one thing he knew from experience was that, sometimes, discretion and caution were the better tactics.
He held her furious glare, staying silent. He wasn’t going to agree with her, because that would be the greatest lie ever told. “I look forward to learning the reason behind those words,” he murmured.
She ground her teeth and clenched her fists.
He was certain another blast of witchfire was coming and braced himself.
“Tessa!” a new female voice cut through the trees and the thick tension. “What are you doing? You’re not scheduled to check up on the bars until afternoon.” A female approached, the same height as his mate but with long blond hair. She stared in open curiosity at the two of them.
Scorpio savored the name in his mind and couldn’t suppress the hint of a smile. Tessa. His feisty mate had a name that conveyed beauty and strength. Perfect.
She turned to the other witch and huffed out an exasperated breath. “I wanted to get this over with, the sooner the better.”
“Oh. Well, you always were efficient.” The blond witch walked up to Scorpio’s cage. “I’m Zeebi.”
Scorpio nodded at her and spared her a passing glance before his eyes swung back to Tessa. He hadn’t noticed the perfect curve of her ass last night, but now she stood in profile to him, and he had to will his cock under control.
Tessa shook her head. “I’m out of here. I need to talk to Hallon anyway.” She stalked away, her hips moving in sync with the swing of her arms.
“Have fun,” Zeebi called after her.
Tessa ignored her.
“Well.” Zeebi turned back to him. “Looks like that went well.” She eyed him, then the bars. “Sometimes I’ll be the one to reinforce the spell. I’m attuned to metals, but not as good as Tessa.”
“Why would the chief send anyone other than his best?” Scorpio asked.
Zeebi folded her arms. “If I didn’t know you were a Watcher and al
l tactical and shit, I’d be insulted.”
Scorpio watched Tessa until she ducked around a corner, out of sight, then he focused on the blond witch. “No insult intended.” This was an interesting situation. Either have the bars reinforced by the more skilled witch and see his mate more often, or have them checked by the less skilled witch who might make an error…thus letting him potentially get to his mate. “You’re friends with Tessa?”
Zeebi fiddled with a small opalescent pendant around her neck. “Yup. Since we were kids.”
Kids. The word tugged at him, conjuring images of what Tessa might have looked like, what trouble she might have gotten into here in—wait. “Kids? You lived here, in Bronwy?”
She nodded.
“I’ve been to Bronwy before, and it didn’t look anything like this.” He gestured to the open areas around them.
Zeebi drew in a breath, studying him, and released it slowly. “You don’t know?”
“Know what?” Scorpio’s impatience had him grabbing the bars, glaring at her.
“This…” She mimicked his gesture. “Is thanks to you, whether it was your intent or not.”
“What are you talking about?” Was she as crazy as the witches from last night?
“We’re no longer on Bronwy land. We’re several miles away. We were forced to move when you killed Pennar.”
“Why?”
“He was the most powerful mage among us, and he was also more powerful than anyone in the Vespera coven. Our rival.” Her mouth curled in distaste. “Pennar was the only one who kept us in our true homeland and kept them in check.”
“They took your land?” Why not take it back?
“More than that, demon.” Zeebi sighed. “Bronwy’s land sits on a rare confluence of dark ley lines. Not only are they full of dark magic, but they tempt us to dabble in it. It’s like a lure.” Her eyes grew distant. “Pennar was so strong, he created a barrier that prevented us from feeling the pull of darkness. He also created dozens of wards and counterspells that kept Vespera away. Sure, he used our communal talent, twisting all our magic together to help with barriers. But only he could create such blocks. That all came crashing down when he died.”