by RJ Blain
Water Viper
A Jesse Alexander Novel
RJ Blain
Pen & Page Publishing
Water Viper
A Jesse Alexander Novel
During Starfall, magic flooded the Earth and destroyed most technology while humans developed strange new powers. As the scion of a male-dominated clan, Jesse should have risen to become a hero.
She chose to become a woman instead, ruining her hopes for the future.
Years later, weary of life as an assassin, she retires to enjoy raising horses and delivering messages. When her plans fall apart, she has one final chance to set everything right. Should she fail to redeem herself, she'll lose everything she's ever held dear, including her friends, her family, and her life.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher or author excluding the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Copyright © 2017 by RJ Blain
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For more information or to contact the author, please visit rjblain.com. Cover design by Holly Heisey (hollyheiseydesign.com)
Contents
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
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Afterword
About the Author
Magical Romantic Comedies (with a body count)
From Witch & Wolf World
Other Stories by RJ Blain
Witch & Wolf World Reading Order
Chapter One
A black, pitted stone bounced across the bar. I leaned back, picked up my beer, and made way for the rock, tracing its trajectory towards the front door.
The first beer bottle it broke belonged to a mercenary like me, and his wail drew everyone’s attention. The rock smacked into the bar, left a black smear, a gouge, and a few golden sparks before continuing its haphazard flight. Several more glasses and bottles fell to it, and frothy brew decorated the old, dull wood before spilling over the lip to the water pooled on the floor.
Curses chased after the stone, and out of the corner of my eye, I glimpsed several men giving chase. They were cloaked, an annoyance for someone like me, who wanted to keep track of everyone nearby in case of trouble.
In the sunken ruins of Miami, where only the brave, the foolish, or the desperate stayed, trouble was plentiful. Today’s variant worried me more than most.
Where a Starfall stone went, catastrophe surely followed. Three men hunting for its sort of trouble meant someone was about to get hurt.
After the day I had, if I lost my hard-earned beer, I’d be the catastrophe. I could fight with many weapons, from staves to swords. In a pinch, I could even use a gun, although I worked damned hard to make sure people never realized combustibles functioned in my hands.
The man beside me spat curses, twisted his body, and cradled his pint to his chest. Taking another swig of my beer, I kept an eye on the stone and its trio of pursuers. I couldn’t blame the damned thing for wanting to make a getaway. There were dives, then there was Oyster Bay. If one of the usuals came after me, I’d run, too. As though losing hope of escape and finding me the best option in a room full of bad choices, the stone rolled to a halt in front of me.
The barkeeper stared at me, stared at the rock, and swept his bare hand over the bar to send a shower of broken glass splashing into the water washing over the floor of his establishment. “That yours?”
All three men splashed to a halt beyond the range of my sword. I twisted, pondering how much calamity I wanted to rain down on Petey and his wretched little bar if I lost even a single drop of my beer.
I matched him stare for stare. Stupid questions didn’t deserve an answer, and maybe if I got real lucky, Petey would forget he’d asked. After a month of me haunting his bar and renting a space in the communal flop in the back room above the water line, he’d stopped asking for my name.
The name most knew me by would only draw the wrong type of attention. No one liked knowing they shared a bar with an assassin. I didn’t like having to explain why I, a woman, had a man’s name. Jesse could go either way, something I was eternally grateful for, but the instant Alexander left my mouth, the questions started. Why did a woman have a man’s name? Was Alexander really my last name? Why would anyone name a pretty girl something as masculine as Jesse Alexander?
“Well?”
Everyone in the place watched me, and I took another swallow of my beer. If I wanted, I could break the bottle and get to work, turn the sea pink with their blood, and be done with the fetid sinkhole that had once been Miami, Florida. The bottle would complicate things for me, but after the dry spell I’d had on paying gigs, I needed a challenge to restore my reflexes and edge.
Why had I thought moving south would do me any good? The warmth was a selling point, but when the seas rose and every building still standing flooded out, I remembered everything came with a price.
What the ocean claimed, it didn’t like giving back, and in another year or two, there wouldn’t be a Miami at all. Dying cities were a horrible place for a mercenary wanting to make an honest living killing dishonest people.
“No games. That yours?”
I leaned back, and the metal stool shrieked a protest. “If it were mine, Petey, I wouldn’t be using it to waste beer.”
The stone sparked and flared, and blue-white light zapped through the brew spread over the bar. Several of the men yelped, jumped off their stools, and splashed into the seawater on route to the door. Lifting my feet, I hooked my boot heels onto the stool’s foot rest.
When a Starfall stone glowed, wise men ran.
I was neither wise nor a man, so I stayed put and watched the show. Running wouldn’t do me any good, not if the stone decided to burst. It’d shine its light for over a mile or more and likely do so before I reached the front door.
“Fuck!” Petey dived behind the bar.
Two of the cloaked men recoiled, but one darted forward, gloved hand stretched out to claim the stone. I gulped down the rest of m
y beer, flipped the bottle, and smashed it into his forearm. The glass shattered, reflecting the stone’s light throughout the molding, decaying room.
“You’re in my space.”
The Starfall stone kept sparking, and its glow intensified.
Backing out of my reach, the man shook his hand. Shards of brown glass tumbled into the sea, and beneath the water, they continued to shine with the rock’s blue-white radiance and its golden sparks. “Move, then.”
Most men hated when I defied them. My opponent waited, intriguing me when he hesitated to force me out of his way so he could take what he wanted. Men liked to think they ruled, and in their opinion, the strongest men got the best women, and that was that.
Wise men realized some women conquered their own mountains and tossed off every man who challenged them.
One day, I’d figure out where I stood in the grand scheme of things. I’d been raised to be a man, a warrior above other men, the strength and pride of my clan. I should have become a man when I had turned ten, but thanks to my stupidity, I had ended up a woman instead.
Remembering pissed me off enough I either needed another beer, a fight, or both.
“Move.”
The bar cleared out, and Petey numbered among those bailing. I arched a brow, shrugged, and reached across the bar to snag myself another beer, careful not to touch the Starfall stone. “When I’m done drinking my beer, I’ll move.”
Within a minute, Oyster Bay emptied, leaving me with the three cloaked figures and a man at the other end of the bar too stupid to run or too brave for his own good. When he spotted me looking in his direction, he lifted his bottle in a salute.
Men were a dime a dozen, but sometimes, a pretty one came around, and my flavor of the month was tall, dark, and handsome enough to remind me there were a few perks to being a woman. He smirked at me, likely anticipating the fireworks from the stone or the brewing fight between me and the three men who wanted it.
I liked his mouth, and my gaze locked on his lips before I managed to force my attention back to my trio of unwanted guests.
Outside, thunder rumbled, rain pattered on the bar’s metal roof, and the storm stirred the ocean’s ire, splashing salt water against my feet.
“Move.” The man took one step forward, and his voice remained emotionless and calm.
“Cheers,” I said, lifting my bottle towards my lone spectator. If he wanted a show, I’d give him one, and when I was finished with the three men determined to invade my personal space, I’d leave him a little memento to remember me by. I scooted my stool back, stepped into the water, and met my adversary’s gaze.
I set my beer down beside the Starfall stone. “You’re not going to let me finish my beer in peace, are you?”
He took another step and leaned forward, his breath hot on my face. “No.”
Walking away would’ve been smart. Leaving the Starfall stone to burst and cause mayhem without me in the general vicinity would have been wise. Instead, I unsheathed my sword and rammed the pommel into his gut.
I smiled and went to work. All I’d leave for him were bruises and his life. He didn’t deserve anything else from me, not even a scar.
I left the three cloaked men slumped over the bar, lined up in a neat row as an offering to the glowing Starfall stone. Their bodies twitched in the sparking water.
Maybe the rock would wait to burst until I was clear of its blast radius. I had enough problems as a third generation shifter of the Blade Clan. I didn’t need anything added to them.
I sighed and regarded my victims with a wrinkled nose. Why couldn’t they have put up a real fight? If I had wanted to kill them, I would have saved myself a great deal of time and effort. Letting them live meant I’d have enemies at my back.
There was a thin line between killing for profit and sport, and I meant to stay on the right side of it, even if it meant leaving a few extra unwanted adversaries nipping at my heels. Sighing, I dried my sword on their cloaks before sheathing it, then I went to work patting them down.
It didn’t take long to locate the cash hidden inside their clothes. Someone had paid them well, probably to retrieve the Starfall stone. The rock pulsed while I counted bills. Between the three of them, they had over two thousand dollars.
The sum was only a fraction of the stone’s worth. Starfall stones could do a lot more than charge water and glow in the dark. Some exploded. Others imbued those who held them with magic.
A rare few healed.
Why would anyone hire those three to collect the stone? They hadn’t given me much sport. Why would anyone pay incompetents so much money? Shaking my head, I took all but five hundred as compensation for their lives.
Tall, dark, handsome, and smirking rose from his stool and strode towards me, coming to a halt just beyond arm’s length. “Aren’t you supposed to take all their cash?”
If he came a single step forward, he’d be in perfect range to take out. I stuffed the money in my jeans, and while I still had my hand in my pocket, I slid a sedation needle out of its sheath around my wrist, which was hidden beneath my blouse’s sleeve. “I took my retainer fee.”
Raising his dark eyebrows, he looked me over head to toe, and I noted his gaze lingered on my hips. Working as a mercenary kept me lean and muscular, but I still managed to have curves—curves men liked.
I blamed my shifter heritage. With my luck, when I discovered my inner beast and learned to transform, I’d end up a cow. I’d already screwed up my gender, so it was only a matter of time before I fucked the rest up, too.
“You’re for hire, then?”
“Depends on what you need.”
Bursts of green and gold lit the man’s dark eyes. “I wouldn’t mind you guarding my body at night. You know how to fight. You toyed with them. If you’re bored, I could keep you amused.”
At a glance, I couldn’t tell what he was or what magic he possessed, but his interest in me and my fighting likely made him a shifter. Shifter males, especially of predatory species, liked women who challenged them and refused to submit without a fight, preferably a violent, bloody one.
Unfortunately, too many shifter males played for keeps, and when they took interest in a female, it was because they wanted to breed. Some species of shifters mated for life. Others stayed around long enough to ensure they had viable offspring before drifting away until the next mating season when they would find a new female and spread the love around.
Shifters were a pain in my ass. Until I discovered the nature of my inner beast, I’d remain infertile, which worked well when I sought out non-shifter males for a mutual itch scratching.
Like me, they only wanted a wild night and nothing more.
“What makes you think you’ll give me any sport?”
“You’ve the pride of a queen. How do you know if you’ll give me any sport?”
I leaned against the bar and relaxed. I’d heard every line in the book, and as far as come-ons went, his were among the more intriguing ones. I had no doubt he’d been aroused during my fight with my sleeping trio of victims.
He’d join them as soon as he stepped in range, and I’d have fun with him before I left the sinking ruins of Miami for new territory.
“My retainer fee is how much I require as a deposit when I’m hired to kill.” I offered the courting male my best smile. “I thought it was a fair price for their lives.”
“Intriguing. I’m Nate. Beer?”
“They did spoil my first two,” I admitted, hooking my stool with my boot and dragging it closer. “You can call me Water Viper.”
If he recognized my assassin name, Nate showed no sign of it. He reached across the bar to snag a pair of beers, and when he offered me mine, I palmed the needle and scraped a nail against his skin to mask dosing him with the sedatives. I dropped the sliver of metal into the sea, secured my hold on my beer, and popped the top.
“Cheers to a good fight,” he said, opening his bottle before lifting it.
Tapping mine to his, I
chuckled and slid onto my stool. Within five minutes, the effects of the drug would kick in. It didn’t matter what type of shifter he was; it would knock out an elephant for an hour. Until he dropped, I’d enjoy my beer and his company while I watched the Starfall stone pulse. “Think it’ll burst?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me. Most people would call us insane for sticking around for the show. Hoping for stronger powers?”
“Too early in the morning for a run.”
“But not too early for a cold one?”
I regarded the brown beer bottle and arched a brow. “If you think this is cold, you need to get out more.”
“For Miami, it’s cold.”
One of these days, I would learn not to play with fire—or with handsome shifter males I had no business toying with. Instead of arguing with him, I shrugged and drank my beer. Wherever I went, it’d be a city with reliable electricity or magic. Either would work, as long as I could have something cold to drink.
When I didn’t speak, Nate rested his elbow on the bar with his bottle hanging loosely in his hand. “Staying long?”
His relaxed posture put me at ease. In another few minutes, he’d succumb to the drug. Sedation was my first method of dealing with unwanted attention from men. After scratching them with my needle and waiting a few minutes, I left. Would he, a shifter male, rise to the challenge I would present when I marked him before I made my getaway? “Only a fool would stay long in a sinking city.”