Intimidator

by Cari Silverwood

  They turned and looked at her. Redbeard, baldie, and tattooed guy. She nodded to each of them.

  Redbeard shrugged and stepped toward her. “We was just about to have fun. You wanna join in?” He nodded at her sword. “Think you can use that?”

  The others spread out and began a classic encirclement.

  “This?” She tilted the blade and sneered at it. “Picked it up in a junk sale.”

  Baldie, to her right, chuckled and she noted his position. Tattooed guy, still showing to the left, in her peripheral vision, dragged out a revolver and started speaking. “Hand over –”

  The katana was point down but cutting edge up and theoretically that was good as she could sweep in one continuous motion. Samurai would keep their katanas ready in just such a position, only they had them tucked into their obi.

  Hers was out and within lethal range of them all. They were unaware.

  Strictly speaking, legally, she couldn’t say they’d done more than frighten her, and so deadly force wasn’t allowed. She could hit them and run, but she couldn’t do anything really bad…

  He continued his speech. “…the sword.”

  Redbeard unslung a chain to go with his corkscrew.

  The barrel of the revolver cleared Tattooed guy’s coat opening and was swinging out.

  No deadly force until he shot her?

  Fuck this.

  In one arc, starting on the left, she sliced through Tattooed guy’s throat, which meant carotid artery spurt…damn the blood spray would get her…severed Redbeard’s wrist then on the reverse arc, separated Redbeard’s head from his neck…using a corkscrew on a girl, jeez. There was a crack and a spang.

  In the air, a blade spun, flinging glints of light.

  As she swiveled to deal with Baldie, she recognized the sounds and the altered feel of the katana for what it was – the blade had snapped, one inch from the grip. Her left hand reached out at speed.

  Well that was a bad buy. But at least her astro-ninja-batgirl instincts were working. She’d grabbed the blade with her left hand and now held it like an Olympic torch gone wrong. Shouldn’t that be hurting? The thing was sharp as well as cheap.

  Baldie gaped at her, with a mother fucking huge cannon of a gun pointed her way. But beyond him was an onrushing man in a coat. Him, her brain screamed. Him, him, him.

  Yeah, I get it. Whatever part of her was doing the proximity alert, it needed to turn down the volume. Maybe these guys were all together? Crap. No, please, not Coatman.

  With the snapped-off blade in her left hand, she spiked Tattooed guy clean through the nose and up into the cribriform plate that separated nose and brain. Things went splurt. She was amazed when A her left hand that held the naked blade didn’t split in half and B the blade came out again like she’d plunged it into spaghetti and not skull and brain.

  Maybe she was Bladegirl not ninjagirl? Names needed deciding.

  Again the man had possessed the hacksaw, ergo, he deserved dying, muchly.

  He was collapsing already and likely dead, when her cute, scary, green-eyed guy, currently known as Coatman, came leaping over the top, his hand outstretched, gun in it.

  A flash recall told her letting him grab her neck was bad. She dodged and made to cut his leg, just a little, only to find her arm had turned to rock. She couldn’t cut him, but she could dance. Her agility was still there. With a swerve and a duck, she slipped away.

  The man rolled and came up on his feet. He tucked the gun away under his long black coat.

  There was blood everywhere. Forensics would have a field day with this. Blood spatter, severed fucking heads, corkscrews. While still keeping a wary eye on…

  “Who are you?” she demanded, eyes narrowing. “I know you.”

  I’ve travelled for a thousand miles to find you.

  This man she’d searched for had a simple presence most men never achieved. Self-assured and wide, yet she’d bet all of him under that partly open coat was muscle. Sandy hair that glinted gold at the tips and a squarish, rugged face.

  She had an itch to trace the creases there and ask him where he got those awesome blue cheek tattoos. Like shark gills or something. They’d even been shaded so they looked carved in.

  “You remember me? Curious. My name is Brask. I came to help her. Though technically, I shouldn’t.” He gestured at the girl who had curled up into a ball. “And you, you need me to help you clean up all this. They’re dead. Your world doesn’t like people getting dead, do they?”

  “My world?”

  “What else do you remember, apart from me in general?” The deep sexy purr of his voice struck low and made her long-neglected lady bits quiver warmly to life. This Brask could have been a beast in another life.

  She had to do a slow shuffle and step to keep him distant. He seemed determined to close the gap, and whenever she stepped away, he followed.

  “Not much. I don’t remember anything much at all. Stay there, please. I’ve got this.” She brandished the broken sword in her bloodied fist.

  He halted and cocked one eyebrow. “Shouldn’t that have cut you? Can I see your hand? And I’ve got a gun, by the way. Gun trumps sword.”

  “Not in my world,” she muttered. Funny how both of them were sparring despite all the dead, like they were immune or something. She’d never thought herself callous. Later, she had a feeling all this was going to crash down on her. She gave her mind a metaphorical shake. “No, you can’t see my hand. Help her, and stop stalking me.”

  He grunted dismissively but bent then went to one knee and peered at the girl. While he did that, she spread her palm. Blood, but not hers. No cuts. None. This was freaky.

  “She seems to be recovering. I can’t touch her to be sure. Willow, if you can hear me, Stom is coming.”

  “Stom? Is that her boyfriend? Weird name. Why can’t you touch her? Step back and I’ll check her out.”

  “Stom is not her boyfriend, Talia. He’s her bond mate and possibly her Master.” He smiled oddly as he said that, as if he knew something she didn’t. “They’re coming soon so you needn’t touch her. Don’t be surprised.”

  “Uh-huh.” What an odd thing to say. All of that had been. The sensual menace radiating from this Brask was affecting her. It was exhilarating. Such a scary yet fascinating game. Playing mysteries with a man who’d watched her kill three other men and not batted an eyelid.

  “You’re not scared of me, are you?” she asked gently.

  “No.” He laughed.

  “Maybe you should be.”

  “I doubt that. Maybe you should be scared of me, Talia.” He took a step nearer and in the face of what she’d just told him, she stood her ground. Damn, the man had grown some inches.

  Chasing this guy was like following a hurricane, and holding onto its tail.

  Her name. He’d said it before. “How do you know my name?”

  “Because. I’ll tell you, if you tell me why you’re here.”

  Shit. He’d put his finger on the anomaly.

  “Really? You swear?”

  “I do, and I never break my word.”

  It seemed, in that instant, that finding out how he knew her name was the secret to end all secrets. They’d met before and he was about to say how.

  But the reason why she decided to tell him wasn’t just to get his answer; it was because this had become a sexual game. And what she would say was going to up the stakes.

  “I’m here because I knew you would be. I’ve been tracking you, Brask.”

  He swallowed and his eyes widened. “How?”

  That wasn’t in the contract they’d just made, but she told him. “I can feel where you are.”

  He froze at that. The type of freeze that said he wanted to conceal how he felt about what she’d said. And that, alone, provoked her to tease him. Very slowly, she smiled in a way that said, gotcha.

  Brask replied, narrow lipped and nasty. “I know your name because I’ve met you before, on the rooftop apartment where your sister used
to live. I know where she is now. She’s alive and happy, but you know what makes me happy? That I then made you forget. I can do what I like with you, Talia.”

  Shit. She quailed a little. Was that the truth? This man was more dangerous than she’d imagined. But, Brittany was alive? Nothing could best that, or so she thought.

  Not until a flaming comet appeared in the sky and plummeted to the earth at her feet, and two men stepped forth. One of them was covered in bronze scales. A glance from his golden eyes made the world about her fade and her knees weaken.

  She stared until a hand grasped her neck.

  “Thought that would distract you.” Brask looked into her eyes.

  A powerful jolt swept her and she collapsed to her knees. When she tried to rise, the jolt hit her again.

  “You’re so resistant to this, miss. I’d love to know why. Sleep. Forget.”

  She remembered laying a hand on his at the angle of her shoulder, and the flash striking her again at the same time as a wave of goose bumps.

  “I need to get a new strategy. The look isn’t working with you. You may not like it, but I can’t have you tracking me in this out-of-control state, no matter how good you are with a sword.”

  Blackness closed in. She’d done this before, hadn’t she?

  Chapter 17

  At least Dassenze had spared him the embarrassment of arriving in that cocoon with tubes up him everywhere. Ouch.

  Stom staggered over to where Willow lay. His legs wobbled. Slowly and in as dignified a way as he could, he collapsed next to her. Face to face he could see her paleness.

  “You sick too, sweet girl?” He draped his arm over her and pulled her into his chest. Stroking her cheek and saying soft words of encouragement made her eyelids stir. Strength was pumping back into him by the second, so it was likely she’d be recovering soon.

  “Stom?” she whispered.

  “Yes. Me. I’m back, and this time I’m not leaving you.”

  “Good.” Her smile lit up her face and landed a big lump of sorrow in his chest.

  He’d been ill when he arrived, but not so ill he hadn’t seen the carnage around her. He owed Brask. Those men must’ve planned to do bad things to his girl.

  “I’m so sorry, Willow. I never meant this to happen. I guess I’m plain stupid.”

  “Yep.” Her smile turned into a weak grin. Seeing her lift her eyelids and her brown eyes emerge made it worthwhile. “Are you the reason I feel like shit?”

  “I am.” He kissed her softly. “We’re bond mates. You have my mark on your arm now too.”

  “The squiggly thing you have?” Her frown wasn’t the best sign. Neither was the shake in her voice. “I thought my arm was itchy.”

  “Why are you frowning?”

  Willow searched his face. “You only came back because of a mark on my arm?”

  “Oh, no. No, no, no.” While he used his thumb to smooth the corrugation from between her brows, he rustled up an answer. “I was returning anyway. Once I arm wrestled a god into letting me. I figured out how to keep Ally out of trouble. Which meant you couldn’t say no anymore. You’re more important than you think and I can use you for leverage. That, plus I need you. A lot.” That lump in his chest got painful. Dumb explanation. Need wasn’t the right word but it was the best he could manage.

  “Uh-huh. I’m leverage now?” Her grumble was more like the old Willow. “I can’t say no? Betcha I can.”

  He sighed, decided the new pinkness meant she was well enough, so he kissed her. When he’d coaxed her to kiss him back, and was sure she was happier, he pulled away an inch.

  “Hmm. So you’d arm wrestle a god for me?”

  A deep voice cut in. “I’m sure he would have, though I was more concerned about Stom being sick on me. And yes, he’d already decided not to board the warp ship before he found out you were bonded.”

  They both looked up at Dassenze. The bronzed god waited with an impatient air.

  He’d forgotten they were being observed. Stom crawled to his knees so he could help Willow rise.

  Dassenze continued, “What you need to understand, Willow, is that love is guaranteed once you are bonded. I just wish brains were also. Considering your extreme withdrawal symptoms, I would imagine you and Stom’s love for each other is equally intense. Neither of you are allowed beyond this solar system until I investigate that. Your friend, Ally, she’s in a cave of vegetation in the culvert next to your house. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have that war a few systems away to attend to.”

  Love? Huh. Was that the word he meant? It seemed a little beyond the boundary of how he’d describe their relationship.

  Dassenze stalked off and Stom watched Willow’s eyebrows come down from way high, and her open mouth slowly close.

  “It’s okay, he’s not really angry with you.” He took her elbow to steady her as she unfolded her legs.

  “What is he? A reptile race or something?” She very carefully dusted off her jeans, as if she was trying not to draw attention to something else.

  Stom choked back a snort. “No. Dassenze is a god, an Ascend. The scales don’t mean he’s a lizard. He aids us, within limits.”

  “A god? Really? That’s…wow, just wow.” She paused. “Ascend. As in climb? Does that mean he was once ordinary?”

  “Clever of you. Some believe that.”

  “I bet.” The sudden paling of her skin hinted that she wasn’t quite well. He grabbed her arm again.

  From the increased luminosity of his scales, Dassenze was about to launch at any second, yet he’d paused to look down at the woman who was sprawled off to the side. Brask had been checking on her and as Dassenze showed interest, Stom would’ve sworn the man bristled. He’d seen Feya mock fight over potential bond mates many times and these two gave off that same dominant and competitive male aura. Well, well. Interesting.

  “Who is she?” Willow asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do your gods have sex, I mean…”

  “Do they ever fuck women from your planet? The answer is yes.”

  “Hmm. Then I hope she has a cast iron vagina.”

  At that he couldn’t help bursting into laughter. Luckily Dassenze took off heavenward before he could have heard and became a rapidly dwindling gold speck in the sky. Stom scooped the protesting Willow into his arms, angling her so she was unlikely to see the bodies.

  “Come. I’m taking you home. We’ll find Ally, and then –” He pecked her on the nose. “I have to plan the last official stage of your ravishment so that I can claim you.”

  “You do, hey? You might want to let me get used to this idea.”

  “You’ve got tonight.”

  “Jeez. Fast engagement.” From the mischievous gleam in her eye she wasn’t too concerned. She reached up and brushed her fingers over his lips then down his cheekbone to his jaw. A smile bloomed and her next words, though quiet, seemed laced with awe. “He’s right. I wish he wasn’t, but he is. I love you, Stom.”

  He could tell she wanted him to say the same, but it was not happening in his head. When he didn’t have her in his arms it was so immense a disaster that he shut down. Nothing had mattered but her and owning her again. Now, with her heart beating against his chest and the subtle fragrance of her body calming him, other thoughts had swirled in and made a quagmire. Love was bobbing up and down and in danger of sinking.

  He was a warrior, and he couldn’t be that anymore – couldn’t go to battles, couldn’t do what he was trained to do. He was shackled to her as much as she was to him. It was not supposed to turn out this way. Being told what to do was abhorrent, even if it were his own body doing the commanding.

  To give himself time, he readjusted his hold on her, smiling though at the softness of her breast under his hand and the shift of her curls across his shoulder.

  “That word…it’s hard for me to say so soon. I’m sure I can’t live without you, Willow.” He kissed her fingers and studied this female who had reached somewhere insid
e him that had long ago become a deserted, lonely place. “But it’s too fast a change for me to wrap my tongue and my head around that ‘love’ word. I have a desire to collar you again and attach a leash so I can yank on it if you try to get away. And if someone tries to take you from me, I will nail them to a door with a whole set of knives and forks, possibly even spoons. Will that satisfy you for now?”

  “Spoons?” She snorted and her mouth crimped up at the corners. “If you weren’t around, I’d be checking to see if the sun had fallen out of the sky. But I can hope you will say it? Like it’s just around the corner?”

  She deserved honesty. “Probably.”

  “Okay. Fine. It’s pathetic and all but I can wait a few million years for you to say it.”

  “Good.”

  There was, he decided, a line between love and this gnawing stark compulsion to possess her. No matter what Dassenze had said, what existed here trod on new ground. He wasn’t giving her up anyway. But love? Love was something he needed to grow into. Mine, however, that could be instant and he’d stamped it on her with the mark she now wore.

  “So. Where is this ravishment happening? On this planet, your god said. London? Paris?”

  “Ahh. No. Somewhere closer. Your house seems the safest. Tomorrow morning. Don’t bother wearing underwear.”

  “My house? Are you sleeping in my bed tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mmm. Good.” Willow turned her face into his chest and inhaled. “I’ll let Ally go to that appointment. She’ll be safe at the hospital. We can be alone and you can be as bad as you want.”

  “Bad? You don’t know the meaning of that word.” The things he might do to her.

  “One thing. You have to tell me what happens to Ally after this. I don’t know what to do.” She clamped her eyes shut. “I can’t leave her but I can’t leave you. It’s like I’m some sort of magnetized ball bouncing from one to the other. Makes my head hurt.”

  “I will. I’ll think it through. We can talk. I’ll get some answers from Dassenze as soon as we can manage it. Though that could take days. Trust me. If I do anything, I do it right.”