Touch If You Dare

by Stephanie Rowe

  Oh, this did not feel good. “Do what?” she asked warily. She poked Jarvis with her toe, but the menacing hottie didn’t budge. Was he dying? Fear edged at her, and she risked a quick glance. His chest was moving. Still alive. Relief rippled through her, and she nudged him again. “Jarvis,” she whispered. “I need you.”

  No response.

  She did a quick look around to see if anyone else could help her, but the street was eerily empty, as if every living creature had sensed the need to stay away from the purple slipper killer. All the wannabe studs who’d been queued up outside Scrumptious? Gone. Where were the male heroes, huh? What happened to rescuing a damsel in distress? No wonder these studs needed virility balls. Any man who took off at the sight of the perennial all-star assassin was not a real man.

  Not that she needed a man to rescue her, of course. It was simply an observation. But hey, if there was a man who wanted do to the hero thing and help her, well, why not contribute to his ego and self-esteem? As a woman, wasn’t it her girly duty to help build up the testosterone level in every male who had the potential to, you know, save her life? A man like Jarvis.

  She quickly knelt beside the warrior in question, pulled her sleeve over her hand to protect it, then yanked the star out of his head. She lightly tapped his shoulder. “Jarvis? Can you hear me?”

  Augustus pulled out another pink star and lodged it under her chin. “To your feet, my dear.”

  She stood, her heart racing. Yeah, some people might say, hey, how convenient that she didn’t have to search for Augustus. But her sickle was back at the store, and her death dust was so useless she hadn’t been able to coax even a yawn out of the Godfather, so she wasn’t feeling the love for the fortuitous turns of life. The odds in a mano a mano with Augustus weren’t exactly skewed in her direction under the best of circumstances, but right now? She was bottoming out, in a big way.

  Augustus grinned. “We’re going to have a gun fight, modern day style.”

  Let’s see… no sickle, no time to prepare, and trying to kill Augusts when he was ready and waiting? Not such a good plan. “Listen, I appreciate the offer, but this isn’t a good time. My sister—”

  “Hey,” Augustus interrupted. “The focus should be on me right now. Not your sister.” He tossed his shirt onto the street and flexed his muscles. “My therapist said I’m not enjoying my work as much as I used to, so he’s instructed me to find more joy in my day. I’m starting with you.”

  Crap. She needed to stall him. As soon as Trinity finished multiple orgasming, she’d be out here and could bring the sickle and advice. Trinity had killed a lot of people. She’d know what to do. “Really? You’re not enjoying being an assassin? But you’re so good at it.”

  “I know I am, but I’m letting the grind get to me.” He loosened his gun belt so it sat lower on his hips. “How does one lose the passion for something so near and dear to one’s heart? Is it the pressure of staying at the top? Of surpassing my annual income each year? Of setting another record for the most consecutive number of years receiving the Assassin of the Year award?”

  “You hate killing?” Well, wasn’t that dandy news. If Augustus couldn’t stomach knocking out souls before their time, how was she supposed to be okay with it?

  He shoved the weapon into his left holster then set his hands on his hips. “I wake up every morning, look at my list of people I need to kill, and I just want to roll over and go back to sleep.” He pulled out another pink star and tossed it carelessly into his right holster, clearly not taking the time to savor the moment. “My therapist suggested going back to my beginnings and trying to rediscover the joy of killing, so I’m giving it a try.” He snapped the holsters shut. “Ready.”

  Ready? Uh, oh. “I don’t think—”

  “Hey!” Trinity shouted, and Reina turned to see her friend running down the sidewalk toward her.

  “One hundred paces. Then we draw.” Augustus began marching down the street.

  “Trin!” Relief rushed through Reina as her friend neared. “Tell me you brought the sickle.”

  “No, I didn’t realize he was out here.” Trinity bent over to catch her breath as she eyed Augustus’s speedy progress down the street. “I’ll never make it back in time. Knock him out, and then we’ll get the sickle while he’s passed out.”

  “I don’t know if I can. I couldn’t even knock out the Godfather.”

  “Oh, come on! Now is not the time to suffer a crisis of confidence! You heard Death say that the powder only works if you’re simpatico. You need to get in alignment!”

  “Fifty!” Augustus yelled, his bare shoulders gleaming in the afternoon sunshine.

  “I’m not ready to die.” Reina’s hands started to tremble. “Maybe I should just run away. Give myself time to prepare—”

  “Hey, Sis, you can totally do this. I believe in you. Death is your thing.”

  “Nat?” Reina whirled around and saw Natalie was sitting up. Her relief at seeing her sister conscious faded when she saw how her sister’s eyes were sparkling. She looked way too happy. “Shouldn’t you be a little worried right now?”

  “Seventy-five!” Augustus shouted.

  “I’m giving up living in fear.” Nat hopped to her feet cheerfully. “After a lifetime of being terrified of dying, it’s a relief not to have my stomach churning with fear, angst, and general misery. I want to feel good.”

  “Dear Saints alive,” Augustus yelled. “The girl gets it! It’s all about enjoying the ride!”

  Nat waved at him. “I do get it, and it feels great,” she shouted back.

  Oh, God. Like she needed to have her sister bonding with the man who was about to murder her. That was just the ultimate insult to an already bad day. “Nat—”

  “Does being miserable and terrified keep bad things from happening?” There was the weight of extreme heaviness behind the cheerfulness on Natalie’s face. “No, but it destroys the quality of time you do have left. I feel good for the first time in my life, and I like it. I don’t want to be terrified anymore. I still want to live, but I’m not going to resist the joy and delight in the meantime.”

  Damn. That almost made sense.

  “Eighty-five,” Augustus shouted. “My name is Augustus,” he called to Natalie. “May I take you to dinner sometime? I’d love to find out how you developed such a fantastic attitude.”

  “I got bitten by a deedub. Dinner’s a maybe,” Natalie said easily. “I might be dead.”

  Fat chance of that. Nat’s death sentence ended now, no matter what Reina had to do to make it happen. The bad guy was distracted, the good girl was talking about her upcoming demise, and the superhero sister was going to step up.

  “Dead?” Augustus sounded aghast. “But I need you! You can’t die now!”

  Augustus was too far away to risk powdering. She had to mist close to him and strike before he noticed she was there. She’d already used up one of her two allotted mists (saving her sister from orgasm central had been well worth it), so this was her last one. But it was the right moment. Augustus was upset, engrossed in her sister, and this was the best chance she was going to get.

  “You must change your plans!” he shouted at Natalie. “I forbid you to die until I have gleaned all pertinent information from you about how to enjoy life!”

  Reina let her eyes go gold and black. The street shifted into black and white vision, and she flexed her hand. Black death dust filtered through her skin and filled her palm.

  “Ninety! I mean ninety-one.” Augustus was barely paying attention to the Showdown at High Noon. “How can I get bitten by a deedub?”

  Reina flexed her palm. You are one with the powder.

  “The effects of a deedub bite are mixed,” Natalie explained. “You’ll be happy, but then you die.”

  “Oh, I won’t. I’m immortal,” Augustus said. “How do I find a deedub?”

  Reina misted. She reformed right behind him, unleashed the powder at him—

  He whirled around, whipped
his hand into his pocket, then thrust the pink star at her neck. She had no time to duck—

  A sword whipped past her face and then the star clanged against the flat of Jarvis’s blade where it was guarding her jugular.

  The star bounced off and landed in the dirt with a hollow thud.

  “Jarvis!” Disbelief and elation rushed through her. Not only had Jarvis revived from a deadly pink star attack, but he’d actually come to rescue her. “Thanks—” Her relief died as Jarvis stepped up beside her and she looked into his eyes.

  They were solid black, haunted and deadly. She was looking into the soul of the monster she’d always known was there. Only now, it had come out to play.

  ***

  Jarvis shoved Reina behind him as Augustus went for his second star. Her defender moved so fast she didn’t even see his hand move, but suddenly Jarvis’s sword was hilt deep in Augustus’s chest.

  Well, that was probably a good plan for stopping a lethal assault. Who needs impotent death powder when there are long, sharp implements around?

  Yes, Jarvis had monster eyes, but he’d turned them against her assailant, not her. Trouble, tormented, but somehow, in those depths, finding a place to protect her? No one ever protected her. She was always trying to keep others safe and failing miserably. To have him jump and take some of the pressure off… her chest tightened. It was a gift. She’d never touched him on purpose before, never dared to reach out. But suddenly she didn’t feel so afraid of him. She wanted to connect to that part of him that had cradled her face and saved her life. So, she reached out to touch his arm—

  Jarvis moved out of her reach before she could make contract. Disappointment and embarrassment flooded her cheeks, and she jerked her hand back. Had he moved on purpose? But when she looked at him, he was focused on Augustus, and she got no answers from his expression.

  “Bugger that!” Augustus clutched his chest as he staggered backwards. “How in the name of all that’s deviant and miserable did I not see you recover?”

  “You were cocky.” Jarvis’s voice was hard. Brewing with some very scary stuff, which was fantastic. Scary stuff was needed when taking on Augustus, and she hadn’t exactly figured out how to corner that market. “That kind of shit doesn’t work on me very well.” Jarvis jerked his sword out of Augustus’s rib cage, streaks of blood on the blade.

  Reina stared at the blade, her stomach turning at the evidence of death and violence, the world her boss was trying to force her into. Stabbing people was different than handing out confetti when a soul was finally freed from the constraints of their physical body. It wasn’t her thing. Really wasn’t.

  Jarvis wiped the blade on his jeans with a casualness that spoke of an utter lack of concern for violence and killing. He simply wasn’t bothered by it, and she clung to his ease, got comfort from it. Maybe it wasn’t such a big deal, this whole killing thing. Maybe it would all be okay. Maybe?

  Augustus peered at his body as his torso turned gray and streaks of black began racing up his throat toward his head. “Good Lord, man, what do you have in that thing?”

  “Hate.” Jarvis’s response was matter-of-fact, but his grip tightened on his sword, almost imperceptibly.

  Reina was startled by his response. What kind of answer was that? Yes, sure, he was all tormented and stuff, no doubt, but hate? That didn’t make any sense. Not for him. Not for a man who’d pulled himself out of a pink-star-stupor to save a woman he barely knew.

  “Hate?” Augustus stomped his foot in fury. “Like I need hate in my life right now! I’m trying to find my passion and love again. What kind of a bastard are you?”

  “The worst kind.” Jarvis pressed the sword against the assassin’s throat. “You have two seconds to get away from Reina, or you’re toast.”

  Something jumped in Reina’s heart at his threatening tone. He was protecting her. Really and truly. Not just saving her life, because maybe any warrior would feel the need to stop a woman from being killed. Right now, there was no overt threat from the debilitated assassin, but Jarvis was still pushing him back, defending her space as if he had taken her safety on as a personal mission.

  No one ever stood between her and harm. It felt weird… and marvelous. Like this cool breeze rippling over her skin, clearing a humid, oppressive weight from her body after a lifetime of living beneath the smog. Instinctively, without even thinking it, she touched his back in silent thanks, and this time she made contact.

  His muscles were taut, and his body pulsed with energy and heat. The connection rippled down her arm, and she felt a sense of rightness, of absolute perfection in that moment.

  Jarvis glanced over at her, his eyebrows nearly shooting off his forehead in surprise. At being touched? Did no one ever reach out to him? That was so sad.

  But he didn’t move away, and her hand continued to rest on his back, a silent connection between them.

  “You can’t kill me,” Augustus proclaimed, pulling his shoulders back, as if he wasn’t turning into a piece of wrinkled black licorice.

  “No?” Jarvis cut off one of Augustus’s chin hairs with a flick of his wrist. “You sure about that?”

  Blackened lines were spilling into Augustus’s palms. The wrinkled angel of death was as immortal as they got, and one strike with Jarvis’s sword had poisoned him. Exactly how dangerous was Jarvis? Slowly, she pulled her hand away from his back.

  “Back off,” Jarvis said quietly to the assassin. “And I mean it.”

  “Oh, fine. I’ll be back when I’m recovered.” Augustus snapped his fingers, and his chariot landed beside him, the six winged horses as majestic as ever. “I’ll get her when you’re not around.”

  Jarvis smiled with what could only be called macabre pleasure. Chills ran down her spine. “Then I’ll have to be around,” he said.

  “She has to sleep.” Augustus climbed into his ornately carved black and gold carriage.

  “I’ll sleep with her.”

  Um, hello? The residual tingling of the Godfather Effect was too recent for that kind of remark. She took a step back, suddenly wanting space. It was too much, the decadent fantasies she’d had of him combined with the lethal and deadly vibes he was sending out.

  “She has to shower.” Augustus grinned. “Somehow I think our little warrior woman will remove your testicles before she’d let you in there with her.”

  Both men turned to look at her, and she felt her cheeks heat up in denial. “I’m not an ice princess,” she snapped, suddenly feeling embarrassed that Jarvis might think that she was.

  Not that she cared what he thought about her sexually, but at the same time, she couldn’t help wanting to make it clear that she wasn’t defective. Yeah, okay, maybe she hadn’t dated since that miserable bastard had ditched her in a brutal move that eviscerated her soul due to her phobia of having those she loved leave her. But that didn’t mean she would never put herself out there again. She was just busy right now, you know, saving her sister and all. Someday, co-ed showers would be a part of her life again. Just not now, and not with a man who was so dark and dangerous that he would be the very, very last one to trust to stick around if she happened to get too emotionally dependent on him.

  Jarvis shrugged. “I’ll take my chances on the shower.” His words were slow and drawn out, and there was no mistaking the thoughtfulness in his expression.

  She swallowed, her throat suddenly tight. The way he was looking at her made it very clear he was looking at her as a woman, visualizing her naked with water streaming over her breasts and down her hips and to other more interesting parts of her body. Her skin felt hot, and he kept staring at her, making her feel even warmer.

  Jarvis’s mind was clearly in the gutter now, and the thought of it made all sorts of sweet nothings run through her body. Damn the Godfather for getting her all worked up. Jarvis was not the kind of man a girl with intelligence, important plans, and a well-developed sense of self-preservation fantasized about. He was not the man to come out of retirement for, and certai
nly not at this pivotal time in her life. She needed to focus, get her job done, and then think about being a woman.

  “I’m going to go heal this paltry insult, and then I’ll come back and kill you all,” Augustus said, jerking her attention back to the enormity of the problems in her life right now. The sexual high vanished, replaced by the cold tendrils of fear digging into her stomach.

  Augustus climbed into his carriage. “Except for you, my dear,” he said to Natalie. “I’ll give you massive amounts of money for two hours of your time. Call me. We’ll do tea.” He doffed his hat at Natalie and cracked his whip, then the vehicle leapt into the air and disappeared into the horizon.

  She stared at the spot where it had disappeared, halfway dreading that it would reappear. That there would be no respite.

  “Interesting son of a bitch.” Jarvis sheathed his sword, pulling her attention back to the present.

  Jarvis was taking himself off the offensive. The threat was over. Augustus was really gone for the moment, thanks to Jarvis, a man she never thought she’d be indebted to for doing something nice for her. She started to thank him, and the words died when she saw his hard expression. It was her first good look at him since he’d swooped in on his devil broom and… yikes. On many different levels.

  His blue eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them, and the air around him was rippling, as if he was burning with heat. His leather jacket was bunching over his shoulders, and his jeans were hanging low on his hips. His sword was jammed in a scabbard on his back.

  She hadn’t seen him in several weeks, but he looked so much more tortured and dangerous than last time. He was studying her intently, like a panther about to pin her to the floor and end any freedom of a choice she thought she had. Her stomach tightened with the sudden urge to flee for her life, her sanity, and her womanly virtue.