Assassins: Target

by J Chen

  Octavian was sprawled on the ground in front of me, a thin trail of blood dripping from his lip as he watched me with wide eyes. He was covered in wounds in various stages of healing, and my memories of the fight flooded back immediately.

  “What is happening? What the hell is going on? One moment I'm recovering from broken limbs in mere minutes, and now...this! What did you turn into? What are you, demon? What am I?”

  I stood and stepped away from him, terrified that I had stumbled upon something ungodly. I was almost hysterical, though Octavian continued to simply observe me with an inscrutable gaze.

  “Your father told you nothing of who, and what, you are? Nothing? I can't imagine why the heir of The Hammer would be rendered so ineffectual. A waste, really.”

  He seemed disgusted and for the first time I felt shame, as if I should have known there was more to my family and the war than I had been told. He stood and walked toward the roadway, and I followed timidly, worried that Marius or the others would spring forth at any moment to attack us. Octavian, however, did not seem to share my concern and continued on unhindered, his wounds healing completely as we walked.

  “Where are we going?”

  We were heading towards the great river and away from the safety and familiarity of the town I had grown accustomed to. Octavian seemed to notice my discomfort, pausing without complaint as I looked back towards the dim lights on the horizon that I used to call home. Something in me knew at that moment I would never return there, but I continued forward wordlessly as Octavian picked up the pace and led me far away and into uncharted territory.

  I shivered as night fell, and Octavian spoke for the first time in hours, his low-timbered voice soothing to my ears in the uncertain dark.

  “You can regulate your body temperature. Focus on the sensation of being warm, and your body temperature will rise. That same focus, if you hone it, can help you heal from injuries in seconds rather than minutes; and could mean the difference between life and death. We don't heal from all injuries.”

  I did as he instructed, trying to focus on feeling warm but instead the cold seemed to grow more intense. I shivered and cursed in frustration, and Octavian stopped walking to face me, placing his hand against my chest as he looked me deeply in the eyes.

  I felt something flare to life between us again, though the sensation was fleeting and gone before I could focus on it. His hand felt like fire against my thin clothing, and for a moment I felt lost in his eyes.

  “Concentrate, Laszlo.”

  It was the first time he had spoken my first name, and it sent an unexpected shiver up my spine as our eyes locked for that brief moment, before warmth suddenly flooded my core and filtered out to my limbs without warning.

  “Oh!”

  It was all I could say as I looked down to my hands, the tingle of cold chased away by the spreading warmth. Octavian chuckled and continued to walk, leaving me standing for a brief moment before I continued along after him, though I tried hard to hide the very obvious sign of my attraction from him as I walked. We reached the edge of civilization after dawn, entering a bustling port city that was eagerly beginning its day around us.

  Octavian had shed his outer cloak somewhere along the way, still dressed in dark leathers and still brooding and intimidating to everyone who crossed our paths. I, for my part, remained silently by his side, grateful for the protections that were afforded on account of his ill demeanor. We remained unapproachable and unaccosted as we traveled throughout the expansive city and to the docks, Octavian intimidating the locals to stay far away as he approached booking to secure us passage.

  I did not yet know our destination, but I was certain we were leaving Hungary and headed towards Octavian's homeland, the fact of which made me shiver with uncertainty and fear. The clerk was helpful but guarded, offering information after Octavian paid our hefty fees for a small room on board the steamer.

  “We will be in port for another week, but we'll be leaving sooner than any of the others. I can offer you a room on board until then...for the right price, of course. Inn's are all full-up on account of the Rebel clashes up river, and most ships are staying put until the Austrian Guard arrives and get things under control.”

  A skirmish in the center of Budapest? I wondered why Luca hadn't mentioned anything, but shrugged it off as my state of arrival must have no doubt been unexpected. Still, the news made my blood run cold, and I worried for the few friends I had left behind. What would become of them once the Brotherhood and the the Austrian soldiers ran through town? The Varga household was known to support the Rebellion, and with the soldiers so close to small town where I had lived, would anyone be safe?

  ***

  Chapter 4

  The quarters on the ship were more cramped than I would have liked, but I was thankful for separate bunk beds that took up most of the space, leaving enough room for a tiny, hole-in-the-floor and water-bucket closet and an even tinier dining table; flanked on each side by two stools. It would be an experience; as I had not yet known life outside of luxury, but I was determined to soldier on. My need to impress the killer confused me, but I reasoned it had more to do with staying alive than the overwhelming and inexplicable attraction I felt towards him.

  As we entered, my eyes took in his well toned backside, but Octavian quickly sat on the bottom bunk, leaving me to climb to the top one and settle in. There was an energy moving through the small space, one that seemed to begin and end with Octavian and I could not seem to ignore it. My body tingled with a strange need, though I could not seem to recognize the cause, nor find a cure for my frustrations.

  “We'll be in port for a week, so I need you to lay low and only venture out after dark. Once the ship is moving, the journey should take just under ten days, though there will be a lot of stops between here and there, and a lot of chances for unwanted trouble.”

  What exactly did he expect me to do while cramped in the tiny second class cabin for a week with him? Remaining silent for but a mere moment, my mouth got the better of me yet again, and I couldn't help the flow of questions that tumbled out into the silence that had stretched between us.

  “Do you think...Is Genevieve alright? And why did they take her? I know you recognized the men and the tattoo I described, so why don't you tell me what's going on.”

  I felt rather than heard the low, irritated growl that escaped him, and his words made me roll my eyes, but did not stop my questioning.

  “Do you ever shut up, Varga? I know my sister is alright. She's strong; stronger than me, even.”

  He paused before speaking again, and I felt something change in the small space; as if the air around us had become story and dangerous.

  “I don't know why men of the Brotherhood would take my sister; men whom, by all accounts, should have died years ago. I defied the order to kill for the first time in my life. There will be no coming back from this for me, but I did it only to find Genevieve, so you'd better prove yourself useful.”

  I felt the attempt at deceit in his voice: an emotional current running from his entire being unknowingly, and silently letting me know that he was confused as to why he had not killed me, but that he felt the same pull I did between us.

  “You can't hurt me, can you? Something inside of you is stopping your hand from taking my life. I can feel it, Octavian. I've never felt what someone else was feeling before, but I know what I'm feeling right now is from you.”

  He growled, low and deep and menacing, warning me to stop talking. Just as he had been driven to keep me alive, I felt driven to seek the truth from him; knowing that there was some unnatural pull between us that neither one of us could deny. I kept pushing for an answer, knowing full well that he wouldn't stand for it.

  “In The Black Book, connections like ours are rare; a sign of...”

  “Shut. Up. Vargas.”

  He was seething, but I swallowed and pressed on. I wanted him to be angry with me. I wanted him to want to hurt me.

  “Are you i
n love with me?”

  He stood up from his bed to face me down, our eyes level as he growled.

  “Never. That connection you read about, that is not us. It will never be us.”

  He was inches from my face now, and again the spark flared to life, my eyes squinting slightly as I was flooded with absolute, unmistakable desire. His anger was still growing, and his fingers worked as he contemplated lunging at me.

  “You need me, don't you? You want me, Octavian.”

  He growled and struck out, his fist landing across my face as his blade appeared from nowhere; ready to slide into the soft space between my collarbones. I waited, terrified but trusting, and Octavian did not strike.

  “You'll never kill me. You'll never leave me.”

  I was growing brave, using this connection to my advantage, or so I thought. Octavian smiled, though there was no mirth behind his eyes as he returned to the bed beneath my own. When he spoke again, the words were cold and calculated, but I could feel a storm of anger and need behind them.

  “Varga, the only thing keeping you alive is the fact that you were the last person to see my sister, and my mother believes you are responsible. I didn't take your life, because I intend to use you for a bargaining chip in order to get information. Then I'll kill you; and trust me, the men I'll be giving you to...you'll want to die before they get their hands on you.”

  I swallowed hard at his words, feeling the truth in him as his anger grew against me. He could not explain the pull between us anymore than I could; but whereas I wanted to understand it, he simply wanted it gone, and he was determined to be rid of it even if it meant being rid of me. If not his hand, then someone else's. As Octavian disappeared back into the bottom bunk, my heart sank as I realized I couldn't trust him even if I wanted to, and so I had to prove myself useful in finding Genevieve.

  “What if she's still here? If we leave...”

  I left the statement unfinished, but received no answer from Octavian. Venturing a peek, I looked to the bunk below only to see him with his eyes closed and feigning sleep. His stubble painted a fine shadow along his jaw, and his lashes lay thick and dark against his high cheeks, leaving a beautiful display that I couldn't seem to tear my eyes away from.

  He's dangerous, Laszlo, and likely not even human.

  My eyes traveling the entire length of his body; drinking him in while I could. Suddenly, I felt a pang of something indescribable that caused me to look away, my skin prickling and my body aching with need. Trying to distract myself from thoughts that were heading into dangerous territory, I tried instead to imagine him shifting; the rough and terrifying features replacing the beautiful ones as I watched him quietly.

  Leaving the bed, I moved to stand in front of the dark haired man as he lay with his eyes closed, my eyes following the stubble had grown into a noticeable shadow along his jaw, making him seem even more dangerous than he had the day before. I found my eyes drifting over Octavian's neck and down to his toned chest, the muscles clearly visible beneath the thin fabric, until he could ignore my presence no longer.

  Octavian sat up, his green eyes piercing through to my soul, and as a jolt of...something familiar traveled down my spine, there was also an emotion swirling beneath the surface that I couldn't quite place as I watched him closely. The Assassin, petulant, glared right back at me; a smile twitching in the corner of his mouth as he looked at the me, the frustrated boy practically bursting with silent anger and testosterone and absolute, unmistakable need.

  The final emotion hit me like a ton of bricks; knocking the wind out of my chest as my cock twitched in response to the dangerous man who was staring me down. My erection was clearly visible between us and I cursed the thinness of my clothing as a red flush colored my skin. I stepped back and stammered, suddenly embarrassed as I did everything to avoid his gaze.

  Oh, no. Oh, God. What's happening to me? I'm not ready for this.

  I felt trapped in the small space, trembling as my erection finally subsided, and my embarrassment peaked. I was terrified of moving, but I knew I couldn't remain standing in front of him forever.

  “Laszlo. Come.”

  Octavian barked the command without warning, startling us both with the roughness of his voice. I was moving my feet and crossing the floor in a heartbeat, my cock again twitching to life in my pants, though this time I was too focused on the man in front of me to care. When I was finally within his reach, Octavian lifted himself to sit on the edge of the mattress, and his hands gently pressed on my shoulders, guiding me down to my knees in front of him.

  I swallowed thickly as I watched Octavian's hands leave my shoulders and move to untie his britches, the waistband opening in an instant as I watched. As the older man slowly pulled his cock free, I gasped; my eyes falling to the pulsing organ that was mere inches from my face and smelled distinctively of Octavian.

  He reached a steady hand out to caress my face, his fingers falling to the fullness of my mouth as his thumb caressed my bottom lip. I trembled under his touch, and as Octavian's hand guided me closer, my mouth finally opened to allow the older man's heated length to slip between my virgin lips.

  Octavian hissed as he felt the heat of my mouth envelop him, his fingers continuing to caress the my face tenderly as he moved his hips slowly but with purpose; slowly fucking my mouth as I watched him with hooded eyes. He could hear little whimpers coming from my throat, opening his eyes to watch his cock disappear between my lips; seemingly mesmerized by the saliva that dripped down his length and onto the floor between us.

  “I won't ignore my need for you, Laszlo, but I will not love you. Do you understand?”

  I nodded slightly, closing my eyes and savoring the sensation of his organ moving hot and heavy through my mouth and touching the back of my throat. His movements were tender, and his hands caressed by face and my lips as I pleasured him. I could feel a current moving between us, drawing me in and driving me to please him; his pleasure bringing me my own in the currents that moved throughout the small space.

  The experience was completely different from the one I had shared with the boy in the tavern, and I felt more pleasure on my knees for Octavian than I had with the boy's mouth around my cock, and I could not help the moans and whimpers that came as he picked up the pace.

  He came fast and hard and without warning, and I gagged as my mouth and throat were flooded with a salty, bitter essence. Unable to swallow the sheer amount of cum that flowed from Octavian's cock, I allowed the thick, white fluid to drip down my chin as the older man finally pulled himself free.

  Octavian cleaned himself with a discarded cloth, fastening his pants before helping me to my feet and turning away, no longer able to look at me. I absentmindedly wiped the cum from my mouth and face, uncertain as to what I should say in the silence that now stretched between us. Though I was not surprised, I felt a sting as Octavian turned in his bed without another word; his back to me as I collected myself and returned to the top bunk.

  As he slept beneath me, I continued to dream of him; imagining that our coupling had not ended when he came without warning. Instead, he had simply pulled me up into the small bed with him, covering my body with his own much larger one as I sank into the mattress from the weight of his love.

  I imagined him inside me, my cock twitching and my cheeks burning at the thought, but that did not stop my mind from hearing his voice whispering in my ear as he took me gently and held me until morning. I came silently to my fantasies; carefully cleaning myself before lying back and trying to find sleep as easily as he seemed to.

  ~~

  Chapter 5

  I knew I was not yet ready to leave my homeland, and as Octavian slept on, I took a chance and crept out of the tiny cabin and off the ship, intent on exploring the city and trying to find more clues as to what had happened to my friend.

  Genevieve had frequented the city over the years, though I had never traveled with her at her own request. I knew where she had been heading nonetheless, her inabili
ty to remain quiet about her city adventures giving me plenty of places to start looking. I knew my first stop had to be the small cafe in which Genevieve had met Zsofia, hoping to find the woman who had meant so much to my missing friend.

  Entering the dark and hazy atmosphere was like stepping into another world, and I suddenly felt very out of place as the eyes of the patrons fell on me as I entered. I took a seat at a booth to the back, only to be joined by two scantily dressed women who smiled at me while sitting far too close for comfort.

  “What can we do for you, traveler?”

  They spoke in unison, the affect of which was strangely alluring, and I tried to focus on each of them in turn as one sat across from me and the other next to me; her hand running up my thigh as she moved closer.

  “You seem tense. Let me help you relax, my love.”

  Her nimble fingers began to work their way into my pants, and I jumped as if I had been burned, causing the women to giggle at my discomfort.

  “If you prefer, we can have Tamas and Tomi join you.”

  She gestured towards a pair of barely clothes male twins that hovered near the stairwell; their bodies and faces painted and drawing my attention far more than the women next to me did. Noticing this, they stood in unison; the one who had been seated next to me made a beckoning gesture to the men as she did so.

  As the women left, the young men took their place, and I found myself growing heated and uncomfortable in the tiny cafe. Was this really the kind of place that Genevieve sought when she came to the city? Trying to keep to my mission, I was all business as the men sat, not waiting for them to speak but instead forcing my intentions on them before they could do so to me.

  “I'm looking for Zsofia. This concerns Genevieve. I don't have time for whatever it is you're selling, but I will pay you well for your time.”