Alpha Assassins Guild: (Complete Series: Books 1-5)

by Juniper Leigh

  “Clan Felidae, through the use of the Somnus Sacrae agents, took out leadership in Clan Equus, Clan Canis, and Clan Paraves. Clan Ursus was next, but the assassination attempts were thwarted.” Graham cast a glance to Viola, who was blushing in spite of herself.

  “Why would the cats do this?” someone else asked. “What was their endgame?”

  “Money,” Rowan drawled. “What else?”

  “A number of clan leaders had made an investment together in a company called AquaFord, a green construction company that was looking to build bridges that could also harness water energy as a natural resource for powering small towns and cities,” Graham said. But the conversations were getting louder and louder, and he found himself having to shout to be heard. “Please, ladies and gentlemen, let’s keep it down for just a moment while I endeavor to explain the situation to everyone.”

  They quieted like contrite school children, abashed, and Graham continued: “AquaFord was proving to be a highly profitable company as it continued to grow, so Alec Weaver was taking out the members of leadership who had also made investments so that he could buy up their shares. At the time of his death, Alec Weaver owned thirty-three percent of the company. I own thirty-nine percent, and Dr. Alice Imbrey of Clan Catacea owns the rest. No doubt Dr. Imbrey would have been Mr. Weaver’s next target had his assassination attempt on me succeeded.”

  “Who owns it now?” a voice asked from the crowd. “Alec Weaver’s shares, I mean.”

  “I do,” Rowan said.

  “How do we know you’re not just exactly like your father?” a voice demanded.

  Rowan opened his mouth to speak, but came up short, glancing desperately from Viola to Graham and back again.

  “Now hang on,” Graham said, “let me keep explaining.”

  “We want to know what’s going to happen to the money, Mr. McCallum,” someone else said.

  “I’m getting to that.”

  The noise in the room was beginning to rise again as people began hurling questions at the three of them. It was an exhausting thing to withstand, and Viola was beginning to feel a little like a witch at trial.

  “The plan—everyone, please—the plan is to allow AquaFord to go public so that anyone who wants to can buy shares in the company. Mr. Weaver and I will both release our shares, and perhaps Dr. Imbrey could be persuaded to do the same.”

  Rowan shot Graham a look that very clearly begged the question, Are you insane? Followed by a shift in the brows to a scowl that said, I never agreed to any such thing. But he didn’t publicly contradict Graham which, Viola figured, was a big step forward.

  “And once the company goes public, anyone who wants to participate will have the chance to make some money along with a very promising and profitable corporation. But the financial aspects of all of this are not our chief concern. Right now, we’re focused on something else entirely.”

  Graham went silent, hoping that one of his compatriots would pick up where he left off. And Rowan stepped forward, looking out over the crowed with sharp, intelligent green eyes. “We want to unite the clans,” he said.

  The dissent was a roar or disbelief, and pessimism. It would never work, some said, it would mean chaos. It was against their nature, each shifter existing in their own unique spot of the food chain. How, for example, could a hawk live alongside a minnow?

  “Everyone knows the story of Lily Murphy and Asher Knox, yes?” The crowd quieted a little, like children wanting to hear their favorite bedtime story. “The theory held that their kids, if they should have any, might be able to shift into anything, since it would be two different types of shifters mixing their bloodlines. Well, they had children, two girls, in fact. And we found them.”

  Viola took a step forward and felt hundreds of eyes land on her, drinking her in. “Is it true?” one voice asked. “The stories?”

  “Prove it,” said another.

  “Show us that you’re real, not just another myth.”

  “She looks just like Lily.”

  “She’s a panther, look at that build.”

  “She’s a bear, look at those eyes.”

  “Show us!”

  Viola was trembling underneath the weight of all that attention. She wasn’t used to it, the scrutiny, the judgment, and she couldn’t focus enough to make herself shift. She closed her eyes, she tried, but she just remained a nervous woman, shrinking underneath the weight of all those eyes.

  “Let us tell you our plan,” Rowan said, sensing Viola’s discomfort. “Mr. McCallum and I will both take Ms. St. James to be our mate, and our issue will be All-Shifters, able to become any living creature on God’s green earth. And in that way, we can end the segregation of the clans, promote intermingling of the blood lines, and work together as a single species.”

  “We’re supposed to forgive the actions of Clan Felidae, and just join them?” a voice rang out from the crowd.

  “It was one man, not the entire clan!” came another voice.

  “We don’t even know if that girl is what they say she is!”

  “She’s an assassin—what makes her fit to lead anything?”

  “She’ll need to be a den mother—can she even procreate?”

  The voices were growing louder, angrier, more demanding with every passing moment, and when Viola looked between her two men, she could see that they were feeling as dubious as she felt. What would they do if the entire room broke out into a brawl? It would be a bloodbath if shifter turned on shifter; it would be brutal, and they could conceivably annihilate the entirety of their species in a single battle.

  The din was overwhelming and Viola closed her eyes against the noise, wishing that Verity were at her side to give her strength, wondering where Verity had gone to, hoping that she was all right wherever she was, dreaming that they would see each other soon and that when they did, she would have a home to bring her back to. Viola thought about Verity, and how they would lay on their backs and count the birds, like black lines cut through the pale blue fabric of the sky. She focused on the birds, how they swooped in figure eights across wisps of white clouds. She thought about the birds…

  Until she shuddered, and dropped down low, and emerged from beneath a pile of loose fabric and a room stunned into total silence. Viola was a bird. A hawk. A diurnal bird of prey in mottled brown and white. She spread her wings and took to the sky, which was like swimming, but lighter. Everything about her was light. She let out a great caw that echoed through the hall and turned over the heads of the onlookers, startled to find that flying came as naturally to her as breathing.

  When she landed, she skittered a bit across the floor and thought of the big, fat tabby cat that used to live at the St. James Academy where she and Verity had grown up. She thought about the tabby, and how they would sneak her bits of fish and chicken, and how all of the other children probably snuck it food as well and that’s why it was so fat. And in one shimmering moment, she was the fat orange tabby, and she licked the back of its paw, and curled up near Graham’s feet.

  Graham. The man who was trying to bring them all together. The one whose gaze emanated such warmth as to be disarming. She thought of him in his true form, the intimidating Kodiak bear with thick brown fur and a reverberating roar. She thought of Graham and how he touched her, and thought of what their children might one day look like, and she blurred herself across the air and became a Kodiak, big and broad, so that Graham had to stumble back to make room for her.

  She opened her huge jaws and roared, and half of the room erupted into cheers to see themselves represented in her own, personal menagerie. She turned her big bear head to the side and saw Rowan, looking small and lean from her vantage point, and she thought of how long she’d cared for him, how she wouldn’t be the woman she’d become without his influence, his careful instruction. He’d kept her alive, taught her everything she knew. And she loved him for it.

  That love became the frequency she caught to shift into a panther, sleek and beautiful, terrifying and
graceful. Her coat was the color of her hair, like spilled ink, and the room gasped at the glory of her.

  But that was all she could do. She couldn’t hold it anymore, she couldn’t put on this show, and she collapsed. When she hit the floor, she was a girl, naked as the day she was born. The light from the chandelier swirled overhead until she closed her eyes and let the world go dark.

  CHAPTER 4

  The first sensations that she felt when she began to regain consciousness were those of warmth and comfort. She was cradled in a nest of pillows and blankets, a familiar scent soothing her. When her eyes fluttered open, she recognized the bed as Graham’s, the scent as Graham’s, and she stretched her arms up over her head.

  “Hey, there, sleepyhead,” came the sound of Rowan’s voice, and she turned her head to see him sitting on the edge of the bed. Pushing herself up onto her elbows, she blinked and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

  “How long have I been out?” she asked, her voice thick and sleepy.

  “About four hours,” Rowan said, sliding off of the bed and walking across the length of the room to the bathroom, whereupon he filled up a cup with water and brought it over to her. She drank happily.

  “What happened?” she asked, handing the empty cup back to him, which he abandoned on the bedside table.

  “You were a hit,” he said with a gentle smile.

  “I was?”

  “Yeah. You were phenomenal. I’ve…” He paused, regarding her warmly. “No one has ever seen anything like what you showed them today.”

  “It worked, then?”

  “I think it did.” After Viola passed out, the room had fallen into absolute silence, even as Graham and Rowan rushed to her side. Graham had scooped her up into his arms to shield her from view, and Rowan had smoothed wisps of black hair back from her face, feeling the heat of her skin and making sure she was still breathing.

  “Graham brought you back here, and I stayed with you while he went to answer more of their questions, you know, about how we’ll all proceed. But it seems like everyone’s on board.”

  Viola smiled, laying her head back against the pillow, finally feeling as though she could rest. If their plan worked, it meant that everything was all right, that life could begin to take shape again. That she had a home, here, with two men whom she adored.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, his eyes glimmering green in the dim light of the bedroom.

  “Fine,” she said on the wings of a yawn. “Actually, pretty good. I feel… hopeful. Grateful that this whole thing worked out. I mean, for the most part.”

  “For the most part?” Rowan looked down at her, his head slightly inclined, and she sat up. When she did, the blankets fell away and she became aware of her nudity. She’d shifted back into human form in front of hundreds of people and had been carried away in her most natural state.

  “I still don’t know how to handle… us,” she said quietly. “You, and me. And Graham.”

  He gave a slow nod of his head, and she could see his thoughts flash across his face, as knotted and confused as her own. He said nothing, however, simply ran his tongue over his lips and lifted a hand to her breast, cupping it gently and running a thumb over her nipple until it hardened beneath his touch.

  “Rowan…” she said, not sure if she wanted to protest or not. He leaned in and kissed her: it was a soft, delicate thing, full of question and longing. He trailed those unspoken thoughts in a series of kisses along the line of her jaw, down her neck, and across the plain of her shoulder, her breastbone, and down until he could take her nipple between his lips. Viola allowed her head to drop back to make room for him, and her body responded to his touch, her knees falling apart underneath the cover of the blanket.

  Sitting upright, he tugged the covers away from her and ran his fingertips up her shins, over her knees, and along her inner thighs until they brushed at the most sensitive region of her body. His eyes asked her if she wanted him, and when his fingers came away slicked with her juices, he had his answer.

  He thrust his index and middle fingers into her, palm up, so that he could work her with a come hither gesture that awakened her need, and she began to moan, desperate for the orgasm their earlier tryst had failed to produce before they’d been interrupted. And Rowan was turgid within the confines of his pants, uncomfortably so, until he had to pull away so that he could tug his shirt off over his head and wriggle out of his jeans and boxer briefs. Thus freed, his cock stood at full attention, long and eager, just as he himself was. He had one knee up on the edge of the bed, his other foot planted firmly on the floor, and Viola shifted so that she was facing him. She bent at the waist and curled her fingers around his erection, tugging gently as she guided the head of him into her mouth. She flicked her tongue over the tip playfully before taking the full length of him into her throat. Rowan lifted a hand and took her braid into his fist, guiding her, directing her rhythm, and pumping himself between her lips as she bobbed her head up and down.

  Viola parted her knees to further steady herself, and this is what Graham saw when he walked into the room: her bottom bared, the flower of her sex in full bloom, and glistening with the force of her desire. When Viola heard the door click shut behind Graham, she lifted her head and peered over her shoulder at him. “Join us,” she said, before returning her attention to Rowan’s hard-on.

  Graham watched her suck him off, the sight of her so exposed drawing his own cock to attention, and he unbuttoned his shirt, laying it gently over the back of a chair as he kicked off his shoes and tugged off his pants and boxers. He was behind her with such quickness that she nearly jumped when he touched her, his hands gripping the flesh of her ass with prideful ownership as he plunged the full, impressive length of himself into her warm and waiting orifice. He fucked her fiercely, slamming into her as though he were trying to ensure that she was overtaken by the sensations between her legs while she was trying to please someone else. There was certainly a jealousy roiling up between them, and she allowed Rowan’s member to pop out of her mouth as she tossed her head back to revel in the feel of Graham filling her up, his hips thrusting hard into her, his fingers gripping her hips hard enough to leave red prints in their wake.

  After a moment, Viola broke free of Graham’s grip and laid herself down on the bed between the two men. She turned her body, situating herself so that she could present her pussy to Rowan, and parting her lips for Graham. Rowan slid deeply into her, gyrating his hips so that he moved slowly in and out of her, hitting her g-spot, even as Graham slipped between her lips. She was turned inside out by them, overwhelmed by the sensations, lost to the feel of it. She was breathing slowly, deeply, taking in the scent of these men that she adored.

  Rowan’s pace quickened, and she reached up to take Graham’s cock in her fist. She wrapped her legs around Rowan and drew him into her; he slid his hands beneath her and held her close. His breathing became erratic, harried, and he came inside of her with a low grunt and a final thrust before resting atop her.

  “I’m going to come,” Graham said, his voice a hoarse whisper.

  Viola pulled him from out of her mouth. “Not yet,” she said, and gently disentangled herself from Rowan, who rolled over onto the mattress, panting.

  Viola got up and gently pushed Graham back so that he was lying down on the bed next to Rowan. Then she climbed astride him and directed his tumescent prick into her clit, dripping with the remnants of Rowan’s ministrations. She rode him, undulating her hips back and forth, until she could feel her orgasm starting to build at the very core of herself. She reached down between them and rubbed at her clitoris as she rocked back and forth, sending her delicate little moans up to the wooden ceiling beams.

  Her release burst forth suddenly, and with such force that it took her completely by surprise. She cried out, the muscles between her thighs spasming around Graham’s hardness. The feel of her reaching her climax was enough to send him over the edge, and so he gripped her hips and cried out as well, releasi
ng himself into her with the full exertion of a desire that had gone for too long without being satisfied.

  Viola collapsed on the bed between Graham and Rowan, the remains of their activities dripping down the cleft of her and onto the sheets beneath. She reached out with her right hand and laced her fingers with Rowan’s; her left hand came to rest palm up on the plane of Graham’s chest. And this is how they fell asleep.

  ***

  They woke in the night, taking their pleasure from one another in a sleepy, love-driven haze, until the sheets were soaked from all manner of fluids. They were a tangle of limbs and lips, and they laughed when they banged their heads together during moments of transition, or when someone’s body made a particularly amusing sound. They were finding the joys of their joining, and they were easing into an easy rhythm. For Viola was insatiable, love hungry and love starved, like a sickness and its cure all together, and she opened for them both at every opportunity.

  When they finally emerged, it was to eat and discuss the details of building their leadership.

  “We’ll need a new headquarters,” Viola said, munching absently on a piece of toast. They were all naked, enjoying the access it gave them to one another, taking food in Graham’s rooms where they could be open, intimate, and private.

  “What’s wrong with the Dwelling?” Graham wanted to know, sipping coffee from a steaming mug.

  “Or the Felidae High-rise?” asked Rowan.

  “See, that’s just it,” Viola said, “They’re divided. We need something that can represent all of the clans, where members from all the councils come and feel comfortable. We need to design something totally new.”

  “Hm,” Graham intoned.

  “It should probably be by the water,” Rowan absently remarked, having chosen a bloody mary over a cup of coffee, “you know, so the weird water shifters don’t feel all left out.”

  “That’s a good idea, Rowan,” Viola said.

  “Yes, and we should put little doggy doors in,” Graham said flatly, “and those carpeted shelves on the walls, for housecats.”