Unsidhe Assassin (Darkly Mine Season 1)

by Leona Windwalker

  Unsidhe Assassin

  Darkly Mine Season One

  Leona Windwalker

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are being used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, whether living or dead, business establishments, locales, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art created by StudioENP.

  Unsidhe Assassin©2019 Leona Windwalker.

  Created with Vellum

  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

  About the Author

  Also by Leona Windwalker

  1

  Jase

  I caught a glimpse of myself in the building window as I climbed out of the Lyft. Dark hair, tousled for that just so look, a bit of artistic dark stubble about my jaw, dark suit suitable for the venue I was about to enter. I’m good-looking enough to not cause people to turn away but not handsome enough to cause gazes to linger, either. It’s a useful trait to have in my current profession. I paid the driver, adding on a modest tip. Neither so small nor so large that the guy’d remember me out of his multiple fares as someone who stood out.

  I went in, ignoring the buzz of activity from the revelers who are here to celebrate whatever it is they are celebrating. A birthday, I saw as the elevator doors opened and I spotted a VIP area littered with foil balloons. From the number of them bearing Tinkerbell’s image, I guessed one of the local society princesses was about to hold court with her college-friend minions. I wasn’t here for any of them, so I discounted that part of the club quickly.

  I tugged on my left shirt cuff, pulling it down from where it rode up. It felt odd not having my watch on, but while out on the job, I do my best to keep personally identifying bits to a minimum. Tonight was all about checking the intel. I needed to verify that my perch, chosen via satellite imagery, is indeed the best and that my weapon was delivered and hidden as requested. I can’t merely stalk through the back and make for the service door that leads out into the rear halls where the entrance to the roof awaits. No, first, I have to set myself up as just yet another customer.

  After I ordered a drink, I headed to the men’s room. I exited from there, danced a bit, then ordered a couple more drinks and a tapas plate that seemed to be the most popular item on the menu food-wise. Then it was back onto the dance floor, losing myself in the crowd, dancing with whoever happens to approach me. There was this one guy, lovely as hell, who kept looking at me. It’s unnerving. I didn’t recognize him, but that’s not the problem. He’s memorized my face and clothes. I know, because every time I turned around, his eyes were on me. Damn it, I did’ t want to have to abort this assignment.

  I have never, ever had to abort a mission, and I didn’t intend to now. When the singing started in the VIP area, I spotted him there, in the crowd. I found my assumptions about the group challenged when I realized that he’s the birthday boy, not a girl. Not that it mattered, except now his attention was once more focused on his friends and whatever gifts they were about to shower him with. It all seemed to keep him occupied from that point forward, so I breathed a bit easier. He’s here for his party and is unlikely to be here tomorrow. I hoped not, anyway, because if he is and sees me, I might catch his eye again. If that happens, I’ll have to hook up with some random clubber, most likely a girl, and buy her a lot of drinks until I can pour her into a cab. That usually works, as seeing my attention elsewhere, they typically find someone else. Someone much more attractive.

  With his ethereal looks, I’m not sure why he’d look at me, Mr. Average, anyway. Hell, my suit is average, too. It’s smart, but off the rack, and it’s evident that it’s a polyester blend. Not like him and his group of friends. You could see the dollar signs wafting over their heads. Silk and wool and hundreds of dollars an ounce perfume and colognes. The cosmetic bag belonging to just one of those girls was probably filled with makeup. Brands cost almost as much as my fee for this job. Not that I was jealous. It is what it is.

  The bar called for last orders at last, and the DJ started the last song of the night. I headed off to the men’s room to avoid the crush of the now small crowd as they left. Hearing the music come to an end, I exited the toilets and started edging my way towards the rear. No one paid me any mind as they are busy clearing up glasses and ushering people out of doors and calling for cabs for those insisting they can’t possibly call themselves an Uber or Lyft because of the perceived dangers. When one of the clubbers got nasty and took a swing at the bouncer who is taking his keys, I slipped through the staff door and hurried through to the one that let me out into the hall. From there, I took the stairs, reaching into my pocket for the set of house keys there. They weren’t mine. They’re random keys attached to a fob from some local used car dealership. All except one. That one is the key for the door to the roof.

  I reached the door and fitted the key. So far, so good. It fit, and I heard the click of the lock as it unlatched. The door swung open to reveal a fairly typical roof for this sort of building. I’ve seen dozens of these places in cities scattered across the globe. I spotted a tarpaulin with the shape of work tools and air conditioner parts under them, just as I’ve been instructed. From the state of the tarp, it had been here for quite some time. Peering underneath, I could see a rusting toolbox, the metal kind made for carrying, and what looks like compressor parts. They’re rusting, but they are not why I’m here, so I don’t care. All they tell me is that no one has been out here for ages and so it’s unlikely anyone will come up here before tomorrow and decide to use the things under the tarp. This matters because also nestled under the tarp is the case for the rifle I requested to be placed here, the bullets for it, and the tripod. So is the sleeping bag, which, when I’m done with it, will be tossed down into the alley behind this building. I’ll go down and take it with me, along with my spent shell casings. My DNA will be all over it, so it has to go.

  I took them out and looked them over. Everything was just as it should be. Now to check the view. I walked over to the roof edge, lifting my sight scope. Five blocks away, I could see the restaurant where my target is due to arrive for his anniversary dinner tomorrow night. I felt a moment’s pity for the man’s wife, but it’s fleeting. I only take the jobs where I know they’re a genuinely bad guy. His wife isn’t my concern, and if I overthink about the people affected, I’ll be haunted by them for the rest of my life. Fuck that shit.

  The door creaked. I spun around, cursing. The rifle’s not loaded yet, so I’ll have to dispatch whoever this is. My eyes widened as I spotted the stunning young man from earlier. What the fuck was he doing here? And how did he get in? I made sure to close the door behind me, and it locks automatically upon closing. These thoughts whirled through my head all at once while my body was already in motion. I was across the roof and swinging the rifle to hit him. Only I don’t. It was me that went down as a feeling of seeping cold and lethargy swept through my limbs, rendering them useless. I went down, h
ard, my rifle tumbling from my suddenly uncooperative hands.

  The young man smiled and leaned over me. “The Ghost, I presume? So glad to meet you.” He scratched his neck with a long, delicate finger. “I’m afraid I brought you here under false pretenses.”

  Wait. This is my employer? What the hell did he do to me? Did he paint the stock with a neurotoxin of some kind? I snarled at him, trying to get the words out. It’s no good. The ice has spread to my neck and face, leaving me worse than the time I went to the dentist as a kid, and they accidentally injected my tongue instead of my gums.

  He dropped his hand from his neck, stretching it out to me as he bent closer. Caressing my jaw, he said, “You’re not as unattractive as I’d imagined.”

  Um, thanks? I thought sarcastically.

  He gave me a winning smile, showing his teeth. His pointed teeth. Not like a vampire’s, no. His two front teeth on the top and bottom looked more or less normal until you noticed the serrated edges. The teeth next to them, those were like canines, one short and one longer, one either side of the top row. The bottom row had short ones. All were pointy and wickedly sharp. That’s when I noticed his ears. They were pointy, too. And his eyes, a beautiful blue, alright, but the pupils were not round. They’re oval, with the narrow end at the top and bottom. They are also not black. As he leaned ever closer, I wondered how no one in the club, including me, noticed how odd this man was. I was busy staring at the galaxies I could see within his eyes, stars and nebulas within the darkness of his pupils, while the blue shimmered like a pale piece of aquamarine. I fell into the sea of stars.

  2

  Willow

  Shit. I hadn’t meant for that to happen. I’d only wanted to mesmerize him enough to stop him. Then I could explain. I did need his services. I had someone, well, a bunch of someones, actually, who needed to be taken out now and in the future. I needed someone who could approach the matter professionally, and unfortunately, as I was on the outs with the Court, I couldn’t make use of the assassin’s guild. I also couldn’t do it myself, as that would be against the rules. The rules state that a hit must be done by a professional. Otherwise, it’s murder and not just business. No assassin’s guild means I have to look outside of the Realm, which led me across the Veil to the mundane world of the humans where I found myself one of their professionals.

  I couldn’t simply kidnap him. The rules plainly state that the professional must agree to a contract. Fae contracts are binding, everyone knows that. It’s why they tell you to check the terms carefully and beware of trickery. The trickery isn’t against the rules. It’s expected, after all. So, when I sent out the contract and included letters the same color as the background the text was on, lining the margins and filling the spaces in between the lines, it was within the rules. When he agreed, he agreed to it all, he just didn’t know it. Again, entirely within the rules.

  I was going to explain that to him and show him the proof but he’s gone and succumbed to my charms. I would just have to wait. I summoned a chair and sat down before calling up hazelnut mocha with whipped cream and marshmallows. Hopefully, by the time I’ve finished it, he’ll be lucid enough to listen. Then we can go home. To my home, that is. I am so ready to be back there. I’m exhausted from the party that I charmed everyone to believe was for me, including the birthday girl. It had been too much to ask for me not cause a wee bit of mayhem. Those Tinkerbell balloons were too much to resist.

  The Ghost began to stir. He managed to sit up as I watched him dispassionately, not offering to help. For one, I doubted he’d appreciate it. For another, I’m now his master. He hasn’t earned my compassion and might not ever. He worked his jaw, his tongue darting out.

  “Wha?” he managed.

  I sat my now empty cup down. “Good, good. Sorry, didn’t mean to whammy you quite that hard. Do you remember me telling you that I’m the one that hired you?”

  He nodded, his gaze flicking to my mouth, a look of wariness in them. Excellent. He needs to keep that sense about him. The Unsidhe Court is not for the naive and foolish.

  “Right. Well, while the guy you’re going to hit tomorrow deserves it, he’s not the only one you’re contracted for.”

  He jerked his head at this, challenge blazing in his eyes.

  “Nuh uh, uh!” I waggled a finger at him. “Just listen. I’ve unglamored myself, so what you see is the real deal. I’m a High Fae, an Unsidhe Fae. I needed to hire an assassin, and the guild is off-limits to me, so it had to be a human. You were on the short-list I made, and you were available, so here we are.”

  He shook his head, violently. He’s a stubborn man, I’ll grant him that. I’ll have to break him of using that streak with me. The idea of that excited me as I imagined just how I’ll do it.

  “Yes. You agreed to the contract.” I whipped out my I-Phone and pull up the document stored in my Dropbox. I showed it to him and his jaw clenched.

  “Just one,” he rasped.

  “You didn’t look close enough, human, before closing the bargain.” I switched over to Google docs and opened the same document. I showed him that, then changed the white text to blue. His eyes widened and he shook with rage.

  “Fucker!” he said.

  Oh, now that’s a pretty picture. Ghost on his knees, ass in the air as I plow him from behind. My cock hardened at the thought. Yes, we must certainly do that, I decide. First, though, it’s time to go home.

  “Look, tell you what,” I said to him, making myself sound as if I’m reconsidering. “Let’s get off this rooftop and go somewhere else. We can have a chat about the other hots and your recompense for them.” I held my hand out. He looked resigned but took my hand to shake on it. Once his hand was in mine, I pulled him to me and opened a rift. Then, I leaped, taking him with me, and we landed what looked like a few feet away, but is really worlds apart. I released him. He couldn’t cross by himself as he doesn’t have the magic to do so, and he couldn’t force me as I have to use my will to call upon the magic within me. He could run at that rift all he wanted until it closes in a few moments, but he would’ t be able to reach it to cross to the other side.

  He staggered, but my hold over him from being mesmerized is completely gone now. He looked around. From his expression, I was relatively sure that he’s shocked and very pissed off. That supposition is borne out when he balled his fists up by his side and spoke.

  3

  Jase

  That asshole grabbed me when I went to shake his hand, eager to salvage this deal. I was only a few hundred thousand short of my goal. Then I could retire and spend my time looking after my half-sister’s best interests. Molly was only ten, and all she had was our mother and her father. Mom was a former Miss Sugar Cane and never forgot it. She lived and breathed pageants. She used to travel all over, doing make-up on the circuit. When she ran off with a pageant judge, no one was much surprised. Now the pair of them travel the circuit, Molly in tow as a contestant. Molly’s first pageant took place when she was only four months old. Those two are after the glory. Me, I wanted to make sure the kid is alright. I send money for dresses, plane tickets, and shit to make sure they don’t take any sponsorships from potentially skeevy people who’d want their hands on my baby sister.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” I yelled. That’s all I say to him because my brain caught up with my eyes. Oh hell, naw. What kind of new fuckery is this? I could see the building we’re on, only it’s like it’s two separate buildings. I spun around. Fuck. It was like that all over. There was like a line in the air. One bit looked normal. The other looked like I walked onto a dystopian movie set. Crumbling city buildings with weeds broke through the pavement and vines snaked up the outsides. Not only that, but while this building looked like it’s kinda the same one, some of the buildings on the weird side don’t match up with what I knew was out there. Different signage and hell, completely different structures. “Fuck me,” I whispered.

  “Later,” he says. His tone made it sound like a promise rath
er than a joke. Great. Toss in sexual harassment to make this situation so much better. Wish I’d thought of that, I could have harassed him first. Okay, I wouldn’t have, but that’s not the point. And speaking of points, he was smiling again, showing me those scary-ass teeth. “May I be the first to welcome you to Wynter.”

  “Winter?”

  “Wynter,” he repeated. “It’s the name of this city. It’s one of several cities and towns within Unsidhe territory. We need to hurry, though, and not tarry. This part of the city is abandoned.”

  He didn’t elaborate, but he also didn’t make a move until the normal world suddenly winked out, plunging us completely into Weirdsville. I mean Winter or whatever. When that happened, he walked quickly to this world’s version of the door we used to get onto the roof. He yanked it open and motioned for me to follow him. I could’ t simply stay on the roof forever, so I went ahead and followed him. He was in front, so if anything awful happened, it’d be him first.

  He held a hand out in front of him, and I could’ t help it. I’m awestruck as an orb of light appeared and floated ahead us, lighting the way forward as it moved. The hallway here smelled dank and insects skittered away from the light. Our footsteps squelched on the wet tile floor. Except for us, the water, and the bugs, there was nothing here.