Assassin

by Cyndi Friberg

  He anchored his gaze on her eyes, watching the gradual play of emotions so evident in her delicate features. Fury gave way to pain, then regret and abject misery. Her lips trembled, and tears filled her eyes. She took his hand and guided it to her breast.

  “Touch me, please,” she cried. “I ache so badly.”

  Knowing any rejection at this point would shatter her, he pressed his other hand to the side of her face and kissed her deeply. Their mouths pressed and slid, exploring until they found the perfect position. Then he eased his tongue into her mouth and let her taste flow through his system. Warm and sweet, she tasted like spiced honey. She responded without hesitation, rubbing her tongue against his and pressing her breasts against his chest.

  He slowly drew his hand downward, sliding along her silken belly and easing his fingers between her thighs. Her crease was damp, folds slick and incredibly soft. He wanted to lay her back across the bed and explore her with his mouth, but it was doubtful he’d be able to stop once he tasted her. And he was still determined to wait until this crisis passed before courting her.

  She rocked up onto her knees, giving him more room between their bodies. The invitation was clear, and he didn’t hesitate. Slowly pushing two fingers into her hot, wet core, he found her clit with his thumb and began to circle.

  “Oh gods,” she moaned as her head dropped back. Her eyes closed, and she rocked her hips, eagerly riding his hand.

  He watched her face, mesmerized by her beauty. The iridescent quality in her skin rose to the surface, shimmering and changing as she arched and wiggled. Her nipples darkened to sapphire blue and tightened, begging for his attention. He bent and caught one between his lips, sucking firmly while he continued to fill her with his fingers. She gasped and shuddered, her inner walls pulsing as her hips rocked more forcefully.

  “That’s right, love.” He kissed his way up her neck, then said firmly, “Come for me.”

  She cried out sharply, and her core convulsed in rippling waves. He rubbed her clit, keeping the sensations pulsing as long as possible. She collapsed against him, so he eased his fingers out of her slick core. If he pushed his cock into her right now, she’d welcome him. But he wanted their first full body joining to be special, untainted by either of their pasts.

  Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her face against the bend of his neck. Each time she inhaled, her soft breasts rubbed against his chest and her breath teased his skin with each exhale. “The Niffal are not created to serve,” she whispered as her mind began to clear. “We are manipulated and abused, left with no other choice.”

  “I know, love.” There was much he could say, much he had been trying to explain since her rescue, but a lecture was the last thing she needed right now. Instead, he stroked her hair and fought for control of his wayward body. “She can’t hurt you anymore. You’ve seen who she really is.”

  Arrista straightened, and her gaze locked with his. “This wasn’t fair to you. Would you like me to...” She licked her lips as her gaze shifted in the general direction of his aching cock.

  He groaned but shook his head. “I’d like that more than you can imagine, just not right now. We vanquished your past tonight, and you need to rest. Your new life, a free life, begins tomorrow.”

  Chapter Five

  The next week flew by in a flurry of conflict and drama for Torrin. He tried to take each day as it came and refused to be bogged down by the tumultuous events—or his endless sexual frustration. Wenny, the battle cat cub, was so upset by briefly seeing her mother that she refused to eat or drink. Nothing Sara or Arrista tried brought the cub out of her depression, and both were terribly worried that the cub would die. The situation grew so desperate that Xorran, Sara’s mate, began planning a second trip into the underground. He wanted to steal one of Wenny’s siblings so Wenny would have a companion. They’d been saved from the suicidal mission by another tragedy. Luppa, Wenny’s sister, had her throat slit and was dumped in the forest to die. General Alonov was the likely villain, but they didn’t fully understand his motivation. Regenerative technology and determination allowed Dr. Foran to save Luppa, and she spent three days recuperating in main medical. Wenny had been rejuvenated by the unexpected events and anxiously waited for her sister’s full recovery.

  The rapid-fire events kept Arrista so busy that she’d had little time or energy for anything else. The first night Torrin had escorted her to her cabin once she finally agreed to leave Luppa, but in the morning he found her on his couch. When it happened the following night as well, he gave her permission to sleep in his quarters. He still had no idea how she’d managed to get beyond a locked door three times. When he asked her about it, she just smiled and told him it was a Sarronti secret but assured him she was no threat to anyone.

  He’d hoped she would show some interest in joining him in the bedroom, but each night she curled up on the sofa and immediately went to sleep. He knew she was exhausted, both physically and emotionally, but it was also a loud and clear signal that she wasn’t ready to be courted. Given all she’d been through, he knew he couldn’t rush her, but the pull made patience nearly impossible.

  Luppa finally joined Wenny in the newly constructed habitat two days ago, and everyone involved took a collective sigh of relief. The karron cubs seemed happy and well-adjusted, so the trainers were finally able to relax.

  The lotion Dr. Foran formulated allowed Arrista to spend more time outside, but she still did best when it was overcast or late afternoon. She worked out a rotation with Sara that allowed both females time with the cubs and time for themselves. Sara was in the grip of bonding fever, so Torrin was sure she appreciated the free time. Arrista, on the other hand, seemed lost and unsure without the driving purpose of saving the cubs.

  He was on his way out to the cubs’ habitat to escort Arrista to dinner, when he encountered the overlord in the corridor. Inwardly cringing, he offered a quick greeting and tried to continue on his way.

  “Torrin, a word.” The autocratic snap in Kage’s tone made it obvious that it wasn’t a suggestion.

  Torrin sighed and turned around. “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”

  “Arrista has been with us, what, nine days now?”

  “I believe it’s only eight,” Torrin corrected. He knew where this was going before the overlord spoke. This conversation had been inevitable. He was actually surprised it had taken Kage this long to confront him.

  “How are things progressing? Is she sleeping in your cabin or the one down the hall?”

  “She’s in my cabin.” He offered no other information. The details of his personal life should be personal.

  “And where does she sleep?”

  He narrowed his eyes, tempted to refuse to answer. “On the couch. Not that it’s any of your business.”

  Kage’s lips pressed into a grim line as he glanced away from Torrin. “Generally, I’d agree, but Arrista is not some random Sarronti. She was Isolaund’s servant.” He shifted his gaze back to Torrin. “Courting is not the only way to encourage her to share what she knows. Have you even attempted to question her?”

  “She’s been a little busy this past week. We all have.”

  The black intensity of Kage’s gaze pinned Torrin in place, demanding his undivided attention. “We need information, and we need it now. If you’re not willing to convince her to cooperate, I’ll assign her to someone who is.”

  Resentment washed over Torrin in an icy wave. His teeth clenched, and his gut twisted, making it difficult to speak. Consciously unclenching his jaw, he ground out, “Don’t threaten me. You won’t like the result.”

  “It’s not a threat. It’s a statement of purpose. I think you and Arrista would be good for each other, but we’re out of time. Something big is brewing in the underground. We must know what it is, and we must be prepared when it happens. Arrista is the key. Regardless of how much I like you, I can’t allow this opportunity to slip away.”

  Far from pacified by the explanation, Torrin snarle
d out his response. “I’m not your whore. I don’t fuck on command.”

  “Do you intend to court her or not?” A hint of challenge sharpened the question.

  “My intentions are irrelevant,” he snapped, voice slowly rising. “She is traumatized and brainwashed by a lifetime of servitude. She refers to the underground as the ‘world below’ and here as the ‘world above’. To her, they are different planets. She is just beginning to understand life in our world. She’s not yet capable of making an independent decision, much less choosing a life mate.”

  The overlord’s gaze narrowed, and Torrin held his breath. Kage looked angry, yet contemplative, a familiar combination. Though the overlord could be incredibly stubborn, he tended to deliberate before unleashing his ruthlessness. “Bring her to my cabin.” Before Torrin could argue, Kage stormed off down the hall.

  Shit! Torrin’s heart thundered in his chest. What was he going to do now? The overlord would assign someone else to protect her, someone willing to use her vulnerability against her. But she was his mate! He could not stand by and let it happen.

  So what was the alternative? Challenge Kage Razel? Even if Torrin could beat Kage in a physical confrontation, Torrin had no desire to be overlord. He could take Arrista into the forest, live in the wilderness like savages, foraging for food and sleep in a tree or some crude shelter. He shook his head, dismissing the ridiculous idea. If they were going to live as mates, build a life together, why not stay right here and contribute to a growing community? All he had to do was announce his intention to court her. They didn’t have to form the bond immediately.

  Kage might allow a long courtship, but he needed information now.

  Torrin sighed and hurried toward the habitat, expecting to find Arrista with Sara working with the rambunctious cubs. Instead, the cubs were chasing each other and Arrista was talking with Eddon, the Outcast supervising the construction of the barracks adjacent to the habitat. Arrista was inside the fenced enclosure, and Eddon was outside, but they looked way too chummy for Torrin’s liking. With dark hair and eyes, Eddon looked like most of the Rodyte hybrids. He had his uniform top draped around his neck, and his entire torso gleamed with sweat. Arrista’s smile was tentative, yet her crystal blue gaze kept drifting down from the male’s face, admiring his muscular body.

  “I do not understand what that means,” she was saying. “I allowed many tests while in your healing center, but none resulted in a list such as you describe.”

  Torrin hurried across the grassy play area, easily guessing what Eddon was talking about. “She is not part of the transformation program,” he called out long before he reached her side. He didn’t know Eddon well, but his interest in Arrista was clearly not casual.

  “Why not?” the other male snapped, dark eyes gleaming. “She’s of childbearing age and very appealing. There are no visitors here. You’re either part of the community, or you’re the enemy.”

  “Where does it say that in the Charter?” He reached Arrista and took her hand, drawing her attention to his face. “The overlord wishes to speak with you.”

  “Can we breed with them?” Eddon persisted. “Is it possible for us to form mating bonds with Sarronti females?”

  “That is not your decision; it would be mine.” Arrista countered with remarkable spirit, pulling her hand from Torrin’s. “Sarronti females choose their mates. The male often expresses his interest first, but the female must welcome him, or she will not conceive. The female decides when and with whom she will have children. Such things cannot be forced.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting otherwise,” Eddon stressed. “I just wanted to know if there might be another way to establish an alliance with your people.” His features softened, and his tone grew wistful. “I had two matches among the human females, but both chose to return to Earth. Without any possibility of claiming a mate, I’m not sure I want to stay here.”

  “The overlord is aware of the complication and is working to resolve the imbalance,” Torrin told the other male. “I don’t know the details, but I know the possibility has occurred to Overlord Razel. Dr. Foran is already running simulations.”

  Eddon nodded, his gaze remaining on Arrista. “If you decide you want a mate, or even a new protector, let me know.” He shot Torrin a scathing glare before adding, “You deserve better than that freakish cyborg.” Obviously pleased with his parting shot, Eddon returned to the barracks.

  Torrin controlled his expression through sheer determination as he ushered Arrista across the habitat.

  “Why did he call you a cyborg?” Her brows drew together, and she shook her head. “Does he not realize you were born not manufactured?”

  “He knows.” Torrin sighed, tired of the familiar reaction. “Some people instinctively hate things they don’t understand.”

  She nodded as she hurried to keep pace with his long strides. “Most prejudice is a form of ignorance.”

  Hoping to divert her attention from his past, he scrambled for a new topic. “You mentioned your sister a few days back, when you were talking to Sara and Xorran. Will you tell me about her?” He carefully opened the gate and let them out of the enclosure while keeping the cubs inside.

  “What would you like to know?” She wore a billowy ankle-length skirt with a soft-looking sweater, and she’d drawn the front section of her hair back. The rest of the light blue length flowed freely, rippling in the breeze. Her outfit had been printed courtesy of a sizable upload from the battle born computer system. All of the females were thrilled to have more choices in their personal items, food, and clothing.

  He headed for the path leading to the Wheel, leaving her little choice but to follow. “Is the sister your only family? What’s her name? Is she older or younger? Tell me everything.”

  She glanced at him, sooty lashes shadowing her eyes, then rattled off the answers. “Her name is Merella. She is slightly younger than me. And she is my only family still living, so we’ve grown quite close.”

  “How long ago did the others pass beyond? If it’s not too painful to talk about, how did they die?” It wasn’t fair to expect answers when he was avoiding her questions. Still, he’d much rather talk about her past than his.

  “My parents and brother, like so many others, were killed by Roritons,” she told him, her delicate features calm but expressionless.

  “Who are the Roritons?” The question was automatic, and he regretted it as soon as it was spoken. If they had killed her family, what more did he need to know?

  “They were a group of outsiders who wanted this planet for themselves. We eventually ran them off, but many died in the process. The Roritons are one of the reasons we are so suspicious of outsiders. They claimed to want peace in the beginning too.”

  “I’m sorry you lost so many, but we are not the Roritons.” Her only reply was a subtle nod, so he asked, “Will Isolaund tell Merella where you are or allow her to worry?”

  “Most Sarronti share a mental link with their blood relatives. Merella knows where I am.”

  “Is her master or mistress kind to her?”

  The question brought sadness to her expressive eyes. “She also serves Lady Isolaund. Merella is one of the karron trainers.” Before he could think of another question, she asked, “Why do you make others uncomfortable?” She glanced at him, then added, “I still don’t understand.”

  Releasing a heavy sigh, he stopped walking and faced her. The fading sun barely penetrated the trees, leaving the area cool and gloomy. “It’s not just the cyborg thing. My occupation makes others uncomfortable as well. They aren’t actually afraid of me. They just don’t trust me.”

  “But you are all soldiers. Why would that make them untrusting?”

  He hesitated, loath to go where this conversation was leading. If he was going to court her, she needed to understand his background. He just hadn’t planned on getting into all of that right now. Needing an outlet for his restlessness, he turned back toward the path and started walking again. “My body was modified
by the Rodyte military because they wanted to use me as an assassin. I had no choice in any of it, but I was very good at what I did.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she nervously licked her lips as she walked along beside him. “If there are no slaves in the world above, how was this forced on you?”

  “There are no slaves among the Outcasts.” He looked at her, needing to gauge her reactions. “Life beyond this planet can be just as cold and unforgiving as the world below. I am battle born, like so many of the Outcasts. However, my mother was only half-Bilarrian. Her father was from a planet called Ontariese, so my genetic makeup is unique. I manifested certain abilities when I was five years old, so the military offered to buy me from my father.”

  Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened as they gradually filled with unshed tears. “Your father sold you to the military? Such a self-serving monster did not deserve offspring.”

  He agreed with her but refused to dwell on the old wound. “As I said, it was the military that—”

  “What about your mother? Was she not able to stop this from happening to her son?”

  Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he focused on the facts. Relating the sequence of events without allowing himself to feel anything was the only way he’d get through this explanation. “I never knew my mother. I attempted to find out who she was, but my father died a few years after he sold me. The ship he served on exploded, killing the entire crew, so any hope I had of uncovering her identity died with him.”

  She placed her hand on his upper arm, compassion shimmering in her crystal blue gaze. “I am so sorry these things happened to you. Your life has been as bleak as mine.”

  “I don’t want your pity.” Shrugging off her touch, he lengthened his strides. “You asked why others are uncomfortable around me. Well, that’s why. I’m an assassin with a ruthless reputation, as well as being a ‘freakish cyborg’.”

  “Your vocation was to kill people?” Uncertainty crept across her expression, and his optical sensors registered her elevated heartbeat. He didn’t smell fear yet, but she was just as uncomfortable as everyone else.