by Amity Cross
“You can blame yourself all you like, but it will not achieve anything,” I murmured.
“Why are you so fucking calm?” she exclaimed. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”
I narrowed my eyes and stepped closer. “Oh, I’m angry, Mercy. You don’t want to know how much.”
Her jaw tightened, and she stood before me, her gaze drilling into mine. “Don’t push me, X.”
She was fighting me, rebelling when we needed to have a strong front to overcome Moltke. She was trying to punish herself…but all I saw was an advantage I could gain over her. I should have talked her down from her self-destructive path, brought her back through the darkness like she’d done for me so many times, but all I saw was a weakness I could manipulate for my own end.
And that was what I acted upon.
Stepping forward, my hand shot up and fisted into the hair at the nape of her neck, and I forced her mouth against mine. She fought, twisting her face away, but her body told another story. Her hands grasped the waistband of my jeans, and she thrust her breasts against my chest as I ran the tip of my tongue along the scar marring her cheek.
“Mercy,” I whispered against her skin.
She froze, her stubbornness driving her to struggle against the love she felt, so I began to move my body, pressing my hardening cock against her stomach.
“X.” Her eyes closed as her lips parted, releasing my name as a strangled sigh.
“You want my wrath?” I asked. “Do you remember the first time I fucked you? Hmm?”
She began to tremble, her head nodding up and down.
“Over Weiss’s desk,” I murmured. “Hard. Unforgiving. Brutal.”
There had been no love involved in our fucking for a long time. Nothing but two bodies joining in pleasure and pain. A monster and his apprentice…but when had the apprentice become the master?
With a snarl, I pulled her top over her head and tore at the clasp of her bra, ridding her of the material that separated my cock from her body. Mercy was dazed, her eyes flying open as I pulled my T-shirt off. Then I forced her jeans and underwear off, mine following suit until we were both naked, my cock hard and primed to fuck.
She moved to take me in her hands, but I wasn’t going to give her an ounce of control. Spinning her around, I bent her over the edge of the bed and brought my palm down on her bare ass. The slap echoed sharply through the apartment, and she cried out, jerking against me. All it did was force her to rub my hard cock in just the right place, and I moaned loudly as pleasure seared through my body.
It had been so long since we’d fucked so violently, so long since I’d taken her with the need to calm my raging mind that I’d forgotten how consuming it could be.
Sliding my cock just inside her opening, I held, then drew back out. Repeating the process as she moaned in complaint, I spread her ass checks wide, palming her flesh as I teased. When she least expected it, I thrust hard, sliding my cock into her wetness.
Mercy clawed at the sheets, her knees buckling. Grasping her hips, I forced her back onto her feet and held her against me, feeling her body pulse around my erection. Why the fuck did the pleasure the monster brought to the surface have to feel so goddamned good? Truth and love should consume just as much as the pain death, and violence inflicted… The assassin called to me to finish the job, and I pulled my cock back and thrust, pounding into her again and again, allowing the beast to drive my actions.
Mercy began to come, tightening around me, her ass thrusting against my body, and still I fucked her. When I erupted, everything ceased to be, and nothing mattered but the seed I was spilling into her body.
Sliding into her once more, I held, my head falling back as a wild moan burst from between my lips.
Consuming. Obliterating. Extraordinary… The lure of the monster within called to me stronger than ever, the taste of blood it had awakened raging through my veins. I wanted her again.
Flipping Mercy over, I pulled her onto my cock once more, her essence devouring mine.
“X!” she cried, bucking against my body and driving me deeper still. “I… I… Oh fuck!”
Leaning over her, I covered her breasts with my palms and began kneading her sensitive flesh, circling my hips. Rubbing her clit sent her body into overdrive, and she shivered violently, doing whatever it took to force me to thrust into her.
I was close to blowing again, and every part of me wanted to draw this out and have her begging, but the mission was hanging over my head, ticking down to a catastrophic disaster. If I survived, I’d lock her up and fuck her senseless for an entire month. I’d take her in every way I could fathom, deriving pleasure we hadn’t yet experienced with one another.
My control slipped, and I fucked her hard once more, our skin joining in wet slaps that did nothing but drive me further into the abyss. I couldn’t hold onto my orgasm, and the moment she came, I did too, filling her again and again with everything I had left until I could bare it no more.
Letting my cock slip from her slick opening, I fell onto the bed beside her, spent of energy but coherent enough to understand that I had to complete what I’d begun, or Mercy would suffer the consequences. Her chest heaved against mine as we lay together, and it was bittersweet in the afterglow of the best fucking sex of our lives.
“X,” she said between breaths. “X…”
“Shh…” I murmured, not wanting her to break the spell.
Reaching into the bedside dresser, I pulled out the nylon rope I’d found in the kitchen earlier. Why I decided to put it here was beyond me, but I supposed old habits died hard. Here was where it’d be of most use.
Mercy arched her back as I pressed my weight into her once more, and I lifted her arms above her head. Caressing her wrists with my thumb, I kissed her softly, my tongue tasting the tang of salt on her skin. She trusted me completely, everything we’d been through up until this point only serving to meld us into one. She had no reason to doubt me. No reason to believe I was about to betray that hard-won trust.
Slipping the rope around her wrists, I sat up, straddling her as I tied her tightly to the bedhead. I moved quickly, and when she realized what I was doing, it was already too late to wriggle her way out of her predicament. Sliding off her as her eyes snapped open, I grabbed her ankles. She kicked, but my grasp was far too strong for her exhausted limbs to fight.
The scene was far too familiar than was comfortable. I’d tied her up like this once before…back when I was going insane. Back when I was meant to kill her for Sykes.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, tugging against the rope as I secured her feet to the end of the bed.
She knew. She knew.
She thrashed against the restraints, her eyes full of rage as I straddled her one last time.
“X!” she shrieked. “You can’t do this to me. You ca—”
Her cries were cut off as I shoved a gag into her mouth and tied what was left of my T-shirt around her pretty face.
“I’m sorry, Mercy,” I said, climbing off her. “You more than anyone understand why I’m doing this.”
She yelled as I gathered my clothes, but her words were swallowed by the material wadded up in her mouth. She thrashed and screamed and drove the ropes to burn her skin as I dressed, but I didn’t acknowledge her once.
Turning, I closed the door behind me, knowing either she’d free herself or Jackson would find her in the morning. By then, it would be too late to follow me.
We should have never joined Section Seven or MI6. We should have disappeared and lived out our lives in peace. This was a mission Mercy didn’t need to be involved in—that much was clear from the way she’d rushed into things at the wharf.
I was saving her from Moltke and herself. She’d see it eventually, but by then, I would’ve already ended him.
I was doing us all a favor by bringing a swift end to an ongoing problem.
Xavier Blood, the Royal Blood assassin, was back.
And I hoped it was for the last time.<
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Chapter 14
Mercy
I didn’t understand it while he was inside me, but afterward, as he tied me to the bed, I knew.
X was falling back into old habits to complete the mission. He was allowing the monster to awaken and feed. The same monster he’d used to kill Greggor and The Watchman. The same monster that threatened to devour us all.
If we got out of this, I’d convince him to disappear with me. This life was ruining everything we’d fought for. His mind and his identity were suffering.
I wasn’t sure our love could survive another visit from the monster Royal Blood created.
My wrists burned against the rope he’d tied me to the bed with, the gag almost choking me as the night wore on. I struggled, trying to loosen the knots, but they were stuck. I knew Jackson was coming in the morning and hoped I was free before he walked in on me naked on the bed stinking like sex.
Just the thing I needed to start my morning.
The ghostly tendrils of morning light had trickled through the curtains long before I realized I wasn’t getting free. The rope X had selected was an absolute bastard to work the knot out of. The more I struggled, the more the nylon burned my skin, and the more it tightened. Talk about a kidnapper’s weapon of fucking choice.
I heard footsteps outside the apartment and then a key in the lock. Jackson.
“Hello?” came his voice. “It’s just me.”
I yelled out, but my voice was muffled, and all I could manage was a strangled, Jafffoooonnn! I struggled against the ropes, the headboard banging against the wall.
“Miss Reid?” There were thumping footsteps as he ran across the living room, right toward me. Wasn’t he about to get an eyeful.
The door flew open, and a panicked looking Jackson appeared, poised and ready for action like a nerdy GI Joe. His gaze lingered a little too long on my naked body, and when he realized, he turned a deep shade of crimson. Slapping a hand over his eyes, he asked, “Miss Reid?”
I yelled at him, tugging against the rope, but my words were swallowed up by the gag that was strangling the life out of me.
“I’ll untie you,” he said, shuffling forward, his hand still shielding his eyes. “Let me just…” He averted his gaze, fumbling for something to cover me with. When he found a blanket that had fallen to the floor, he flung it clumsily over me, but it was just enough to cover all my important lady bits.
Peeking through his fingers, he checked to see my current state of decorum and pulled the gag from my mouth.
“Who—” he began, but I was gasping for breath, trying to get out everything at once.
“X has gone all kamikaze,” I said, gasping for breath. “He’s run off to take out Moltke on his own. Motherfucker.”
Jackson’s eyes widened. “Mr. Blood did this to you?”
“Get me out of these fucking ropes,” I said. “They fucking burn.”
He picked at the knots unsuccessfully for a while before giving up and grabbing the hunting knife that sat on the bedside table. The one that had sat there all pretty looking, taunting me because there was no hope in hell I was ever going to reach it in my current state.
Sliding the blade between my skin and the rope, Jackson sawed, freeing my wrists and then my ankles. I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest and began rubbing my tender jaw.
“Thanks,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” he replied, standing awkwardly, obviously at a loss as to what to do.
“I’m going to clean up,” I said, giving him a ‘get out of jail free’ card. “I’ll meet you in the lounge room in a bit.”
“But…” he began to complain.
“X is long gone,” I replied. “He doesn’t want to be found, and not even I will be able to anticipate his next move. There’s nothing we can do right now but get on with it.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Your chivalry is real nice, J, but I can take care of myself now.”
He nodded, backing away toward the other room. “I’ll wait for you,” he said sheepishly, like he was just realizing he’d seen me naked all over again. “I’ve got some leads to follow.”
“Good,” I said through a sigh. “We’re going to need everything you can get your hands on.”
Once Jackson had given me some privacy, I slipped into the bathroom and showered, rubbing the red marks on my wrists. Fucking hell, X, I thought to myself. Why did you have to go and leave me like that?
I knew I’d fucked up and gotten way too emotional about it, but he’d gone too far. Half the battle was acknowledging where I’d gone wrong. I wouldn’t do it again…but he didn’t trust that I wouldn’t, and it fucking stung. After all the bullshit we’d gone through, we were back here again.
Trust. Stupid fucking trust.
Drying myself off, I dragged a clean set of clothes on, leaving my damp hair to air dry. Venturing out to the living room, I found Jackson just where he said he’d be. He was propped up in the armchair, his laptop on his lap, headphones over his ears, and his fingers flying over the keyboard like some kind of wizard.
When he sensed my presence, he glanced up and pulled the headphones off his head.
“Are you okay, Miss Reid?” he asked as I sat on the couch and began inspecting the welts on my wrists.
They looked familiar, the redness reminding me of a time long ago when things weren’t as…well, rosy.
“I’m pissed off more than anything,” I replied. “The pain doesn’t bother me.” Unfortunately, I’d learned how to tolerate that while in the clutches of The Watchman.
“I’m sorry,” he began, but I waved a hand at him.
“Shit happens. We still have the mission even if X has run off to play on his own.”
“You still want—”
“Do you have anything?” I interrupted. “It doesn’t matter who takes down that fucker Moltke, only that he’s dead at the end.”
Jackson swallowed hard and nodded. At least we were on the same wavelength even if he was little bit of a yes man—apply a little pressure and Jackson was putty in my hands. Luckily, for him, I had good intentions.
“There’s an advantage to working for a government agency that deals in secrets and information,” he said, getting down to business. “There’s an array of satellites and computer programming trawling the web for keywords and facial recognition software that scans the network of CCTV cameras all over the city…the country really. It’s rare that something slips past by the net, but there’s always human error,” he waffled on. “We have to know the intent to be able to decipher the clues or else they’re useless.”
“Jackson,” I said firmly, trying to prod him into telling me what he’d found…without the science lesson.
“Hackers,” he blurted. “They’re going to try to hack into the secure network.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, suspecting it probably had to do with information gathering or a virus of some kind.
“A hard drive went missing overnight,” he went on. “Security is tight on anything that goes in and out of the MI6 buildings as you know, and somehow, this slipped through the net. There’s no telling how long it’s been gone.”
“A hard drive? Why is that so…” I hesitated, thinking over the ramifications of such a device being spirited away outside of the secure facility. A hard drive could carry shitloads of data, and if it were something that someone like Jackson could get to and put into overdrive, we could be talking about thousands of terabytes of information. Files, profiles, missions, field offices, deep cover agents, security networks, protocols… The whole shebang and then some.
“I managed to get a hold of some information last night,” Jackson went on. “While Mr. Blood was busy tying you up, I found out from the agents that are legitimately investigating the bombing that Moltke intends to buy the drive. I think he wants to disable the entire MI6 network and do the same thing he did to Section Seven.” His eyes widened and he grimaced. “Boom.”
I didn’t ask how he found out the information considering Folsom had taken us off book, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was yet another waft of smoke and mirrors for us to follow.
“I don’t like this…” I began. “I mean, there’s no way of telling what information Moltke already knows or has planted. This could be another elaborate trap to lure X out of hiding. After all, I reckon Moltke thinks I’m dead.”
Jackson straightened up. “Miss Reid… What exactly happened last night?”
I shrugged. “My pride got in the way, and I almost got myself killed in a spectacular fashion. All roads point to me being dead. At least in Moltke’s eyes. I assume that’s why X took it upon himself to ditch me…” I glanced at Jackson. “Ditch us, I mean.”
“I didn’t know…” he muttered, looking anguished.
“Don’t make a big deal about it.” I nodded at his magic laptop. “If Moltke intends to buy this hard drive, then there has to be a meet in place. X is out there, and Moltke will want to lure him out into the open so he can take him out. He’ll use my death against him.”
“But…”
“X will have the upper hand. His grief will not rule him because he won’t have any.”
“What do you suggest we do? Go on without him, or…”
I furrowed my brow, my thoughts scrambling in my head until I couldn’t focus on any of them. What would X do? He’d follow the lead, that’s what…but it was another trap, right? Would he still pick at the breadcrumbs knowing how it ended last time? I didn’t know. I didn’t know a fucking thing.
I shook my head. “Fuck, I wish X were here.”
“We’ll do just fine, Miss Reid.”
“Stop calling me Miss Reid,” I said, rubbing my eyes. “It’s Mercy. Just Mercy.”
“Where could he have gone?” Jackson mused, turning back to his laptop. He started typing, images and text flashing on the screen at lightning speed. Damn, his fingers worked fast. Talk about being the David Copperfield of computer science.
“I don’t know, that’s the point,” I mused. “He won’t come back until the job is complete.”