Assassin's Kiss

by Paris Brandon

  “If you can’t believe in Fontaine, believe in me. I only want what’s best for all of us. I don’t want us to be prisoners anymore.”

  He held her gaze when she bit her lip, frowning.

  “Growl or something. If you won’t growl, how about that funny little raspy bark? You know the one,” she murmured.

  He remembered his raspy demand, the tender flesh of her distended clit beneath his tongue, and the anticipation of the night to come.

  “I’m tired of being afraid, Bastian. I don’t want you in a cage for the rest of our lives. Believe in me, in what I know we both want. You won’t be sorry. I promise.”

  He wasn’t about to respond in front of the man who watched her. Sebastian drew his lips back and turned around.

  “You don’t have time to be stubborn. Whatever ceremony Fontaine has planned, I think will be soon. Think about that. Think about what we both have to lose. Your father can’t help you now but I can.”

  It took every ounce of strength not to watch her walk away. He closed his eyes and inhaled her scent until it drifted away on the breeze and he could rein in his pulse. And the raging desire that refused to leave him. They didn’t know she was the halfling they were looking for and she hadn’t told them. He almost wished she had. If he managed to escape, it would make what he needed to do easier.

  He didn’t deserve easy and he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to get it.

  * * * * *

  Kira’s heart raced as she walked along the path that wound around from the back courtyard. She’d needed some fresh air, to think and put things in perspective. It was possible that he’d been drugged to the point that he no longer understood her. This morning, he’d come without touching himself while he watched her masturbate. He’d reacted instinctively to a female’s enticement. Instinct wouldn’t be enough to bind him to her. She had to make him remember. Remember what? That a female he should have killed was living like a queen while he was imprisoned?

  The sky started to cloud up and a chill breeze blew in. She needed to get rid of some anxiety. Now. She glanced over at her ever-present attendant.

  “Looks like I’ll have to swim inside today,” she muttered.

  “I wouldn’t advise it,” Dax warned. “If I can smell you, the staff can.”

  She blinked a fat raindrop away. “Why is that my problem?”

  “I’ve taken an oath I will not break but the rest of the staff are animals.” His lips pulled to one side as he bent and scooped her up, holding her close to his chest as the sky opened up, drenching them. “Alvarez will kill me if anything happens to you.”

  It wasn’t until they were inside her room that he revealed touching her was an immediate death sentence for anyone but him. She could walk naked through the compound and it was forbidden to touch her. She wondered how many staff Fontaine would kill off before he figured out that was exactly what she wanted?

  By the time she dried off and slipped into the silky white robe Dax had left on the bed, her fingers itched to slide the painting back and see Bastian. How long was it going to take before he couldn’t change anymore? Before he was forced to live his life in Jaguar Warrior form?

  How long did she have before Alvarez killed Bastian or sold him off, piece by bloody piece, to the highest bidder? She hadn’t realized that cloning had come that far.

  This was what an entire civilization would have to worry about. She didn’t hold on to any hope that the humans would accept shapeshifters, no matter what the truth was. Some faction of the population would always see them as demons, myths tied to archaic belief systems ingrained in their DNA for thousands of years.

  More would end up like Bastian. There would be no silken sheets for the majority. There would be clinical facilities if they were lucky, metal cages if they were not. Children separated from the parents who loved them to be reared by caretakers in secret compounds that would never show up on any map. And there would always be the children who were handed over to fanatics so that they could be cleansed of their demons.

  It was more frightening than life on the streets had ever been. How could she condemn anyone to face that if she could do something to prevent it?

  If life were fair, Bastian would find a way to alert the Council, kill everyone who knew about her and let her escape in exchange for helping to save a race that would never claim her. And if she were very, very lucky, maybe he would claim her.

  She scrubbed her face with her hands. As long as she focused on something besides the fact that she probably wasn’t going to survive any of this, she’d be okay. Of course, she could always wait to escape until whoever was keeping her halfling status secret made their move and double-crossed the other partner. Then she’d only have one enemy.

  Unless Bastian decided she was just too dangerous to keep alive. And that’s what scared her most. Because even if she left him, a war was coming and there wasn’t any way she could remain hidden with so many people knowing about her. She needed him. The question was, did he need her?

  Chapter Eight

  He could hear the waterfall, feel the steady drone of the water low in his belly where his blood pooled. He could feel himself waking and he wanted to scream, No, just a little longer! Just until I can see her and there aren’t any bars or glass between us. This time he would watch her face while he was inside her.

  Sebastian came awake with a start, in the dark hour before dawn. The thrum in his belly made its way to his chest and he knew it wasn’t a waterfall he heard. The ground beneath him pulsed even though he couldn’t see any lights outside the fenced enclosure where he slept. But he could hear the whoop, whoop of blades. Choppers. Only a strike force would command more than one and he was betting there were at least three.

  He was off the ground of the enclosure in a flash and sprinted toward his cell, toward the bars and the only link he had to Kira. There was no way the Council could have been warned yet. That left a double-cross between Alvarez and Fontaine.

  Unless the Brotherhood had caught wind of what was up. He’d always known he’d die in battle. He just hadn’t figured on being skinned alive. That’s what would happen to them all if those were Brotherhood choppers. He tore at the bars, screaming at the video camera, willing Kira to wake…and do what? Get out? Run for her life? Because if a member of the Brotherhood caught her, he’d finish the job one of them had started when she was fourteen.

  He roared and tore at the bars, heard the footfalls of running men and panicked voices.

  * * * * *

  Kira heard the wind picking up when the light from the video screen flickered. She rolled over, pushing off the covers. Bastian was going insane, pulling at the bars. The tendons of his neck were extended so tightly that she could almost hear him roar. He shook the metal bars until she saw two guards with their electric batons, beating at his claws. He reached through the bars even as the baton stunned him and raked a gash against his jailer’s throat. Blood sprayed him and the other guard.

  A scream caught in her throat as she watched a squat Jaguar Warrior come from behind and sink his claws into the second guard’s back. That was when she heard what had sent Bastian into a snarling frenzy. The unmistakable sound of helicopters.

  She jumped out of bed, pulling her jeans over her bare hips, ripping a dark shirt from its hanger and throwing it over her shoulders. Guards were running through the hall, shouting orders. The lock on her door turned and the sick churning in her gut twisted as she forced her arms into the sleeves.

  She didn’t recognize the whip-thin guard but she did recognize the fever-bright glaze that darkened his eyes. He kicked the door shut behind him and opened the button of his fatigues.

  “I got cheated of my little show this morning,” he panted. “Rub your breasts for me,” he ordered, one hand gripping a deadly looking pistol, his other slipping the buttons from his fly.

  She watched him, eyeing his short, thick penis as he pulled it from his pants. He could barely contain his excitement. She was so scared she w
anted to vomit. Instead, she focused on the weapons he carried. Started calculating.

  She peeled the blouse away from her bare breasts, cupping them in her hands, she pinched her nipples. “You know it’s a death sentence if you touch me,” she wheezed, fear clogging her throat. She inched backward, toward the bed. Just a little closer.

  He drew in a sharp breath, following her, pulling at his glistening cock. “You’ll be praying for death before they’re finished with you,” he groaned, and the excitement in his voice disgusted her.

  “Who are they?” she whispered, still inching backward.

  “You’re worth a fortune and it won’t matter if you’re a little used. Alvarez sold you “as is”. They won’t care. Not with what they have planned.”

  His smile was more of a grimace as he tried to shift his focus from his cock back to her. “I can smell you every day, it’s everywhere, anywhere you walk, anywhere you’ve been,” he groaned, pulling on himself, his face a contorted mask.

  Focus. She could hear voices in the hall, the fall of boots on the carpet, chuffing growls and a scuffle outside her door. One thing at a time. The back of her knees hit the bed and she fell, her legs splaying.

  He rushed her but she was ready. She whipped a hand beneath her pillow and grabbed the bra that was all stretchy material and elastic. He fell between her legs as she raised her other hand and cracked him solidly in the nose.

  “Bitch!” he screamed, blood spurting between his fingers as he fell forward. She tried to twist from beneath him but she was pinned.

  From the hallway outside her room there was the sound of cracking timber and the roar of an angry Jaguar Warrior. The door burst open, startling her attacker. The wide-eyed guard trying to pull up his pants didn’t have enough time to scream before Bastian was on him, sinking his teeth into the small man’s neck until he stopped struggling.

  Kira pitched sideways, scrambling off the bed.

  The light from the video screen lit the eerie yellow glow from Bastian’s eyes and highlighted the bloodstained, tawny hair that covered his body. His gaze darkened with a flicker of recognition and then it was gone. He flexed his clawed hands and she stepped back, hitting the wall. It would hurt less to pitch herself over the balcony than to watch his eyes the moment he slashed open her throat.

  She knows that you’re here to kill her.

  One glance at the dead guard on the bed and Sebastian couldn’t have said if it was fear or anger that wrenched his guts into a knot until she moved. Her blouse fell open and he knew it was neither. He vaulted across the room in two strides, heaved her over his shoulder and bounded toward the French doors while the sound of running men echoed in the hallway. The first spit of gunfire accompanied them over the railing and he held onto her with both hands as they landed.

  A beam of light caught him in the eyes and he stumbled before another staccato spray of bullets. He slid her from his shoulder, pitching her in front of his body. He pushed one perfect word from deep inside, rumbling from his gut to his chest.

  “Run!”

  She did. Straight for the hangar and Alvarez’s fancy little jeep. Behind them was gunfire and screaming and the sounds of bullets tearing into flesh. More Jaguar Warriors—two-legged, fangs and claws extended—poured from the jungle surrounding the compound. Fontaine’s mercs. They were too busy clambering over the fence to notice them. The situation was going to hell in a hurry.

  Kira jumped behind the steering wheel and turned the key in the ignition. Thanked whatever god was listening for the arrogance of men. Of course no one would steal this jeep.

  Bastian practically ripped the passenger door off its hinges and flung himself into the seat only seconds before the jeep lurched and she kicked it into gear. She could feel his gaze boring into her and she turned her head to find he’d shredded the console trying to hang on.

  “I figure if we head for the coast we might be able to figure out where the hell we are,” she yelled, hoping he could hear above the rip of shots that peppered the dirt behind them. She hoped whoever was shooting wanted her alive enough to miss.

  “Who are the big guns? Did Alvarez cross Fontaine or do you think it was the other way around?” she managed through clenched teeth, while she tried to focus on staying on the rutted dirt road.

  He extended one claw and scratched a crude cross in what was left of the vinyl dashboard. Her stomach rolled over. Alvarez had sold her to The Brotherhood. She forced herself to shrug. “Well, if we’re lucky, they’re all seriously occupied trying to kill one another right now.” And she wished them all the best. Because the fewer people who knew about her the better her chances were.

  Above them, the whir of rotor blades along with bouncing searchlights killed any hope they were going to catch a break anytime soon. The road dipped sharply downward and turned into rocky terrain that defied her driving skills. It didn’t matter. She ran out of road by the time she’d gotten back into the rhythm of shifting gears.

  Gunfire erupted in a bright flame from the side doors of the helicopter, tearing through the jungle in front of them. Kira ground to a stop before they jumped out of the jeep and zigzagged wildly through a tangle of leaves as dawn lightened the sky.

  It was just light enough to make out the fence in front of them—twenty feet high with a three-strand stretch of barbed wire at the top. They were still inside the compound, inside a cage. This is what thousands would face, this gut-clenching, teeth-chattering fear. He’d never have a better chance to kill her, be done with his duty and hightail it back to the Council.

  She pulled up short of the fence that he was already eyeing.

  “Can you get over this?” she asked, and blamed her shaking voice on the adrenaline rush that accompanied running for her life instead of the fear that was clawing its way up her throat.

  His lips curled in a chuffing bark that almost sounded like, “Fuck”. He threw her against the fence and shoved a muscular, hairy shoulder under her butt. She didn’t hesitate, just stuck her bare toes in the open links, which hurt like hell, balanced and started to climb. She didn’t bother to protest that the leap to safety would probably break her legs and he’d have to kill her anyway. But there was always a chance and right now she was willing to take the risk.

  The sound of the chopper was dropping, which meant that in a few minutes men and possibly dogs would be on the ground and after them. They probably wouldn’t take the chance they’d kill her before they turned her over to…well gee, there were just a lot of bad guys to choose from now.

  She’d barely made any progress at all when Bastian grabbed her leg and hissed. She hung on while he hoisted himself to the top of the fence. He reached behind, grabbed her under one arm and pulled her up until she was straddling his back. He glanced at her once and she caught a glimpse of familiar, remembered heat before she wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes.

  She could hear men and yelping dogs crashing through the jungle. In a moment they’d be on top of them. She opened her eyes when he started to climb. He reached the top, balanced and jumped over the three strands of wire. He landed solidly, wrapped her legs around his waist and took off running. She didn’t bother trying to talk him out of carrying her. His powerful stride ate up the ground while behind them men shouted and dogs barked and threw themselves against the fence.

  As long as Sebastian carried her they wouldn’t shoot either of them and he couldn’t take the chance of leaving her to Alvarez, Fontaine or the Brotherhood. But his lungs were about to burst and if he didn’t find a hiding place soon he was going to run out of options.

  And then there wouldn’t be enough time to try to explain why he hadn’t just broken her neck when he’d had the chance to escape. Why he didn’t do it now. She was a bigger threat to the Jaguar People now than she had been when only he and a few rogue mercenaries knew of her existence.

  She clung to him and her scent was in his nostrils, on his tongue, seeping into him. He could almost taste her desire, her hope. Even w
hen she’d thought he’d come to kill her, he’d seen it in her eyes—she’d wanted to reach for him.

  He shook himself and followed the shoreline, listening for the dogs. Maybe Fontaine’s mercs had gone into one of their berserker killing frenzies and dealt with that little problem. He absolutely couldn’t let Fontaine have Kira but it hadn’t come to that yet.

  The sun would be completely up soon, and they’d be visible in the open. He headed back into the jungle. They’d at least be safe from any choppers. When he couldn’t go any farther, he stopped and let Kira slide down his back.

  She was breathing hard, watching him warily. “Where are we?”

  He squatted and drew a crude map in the dirt, putting an X on the southernmost coastline of an irregular oval shape that resembled what he hoped she remembered Belize to look like.

  “Where are we going?”

  He drew a line farther north, along the coast and glanced up at her. “Guar…di…an,” he said, carefully, around his teeth, mangling the pronunciation but he knew she’d already guessed.

  “We still have to alert the Council?” she whispered, almost to herself.

  He nodded and watched the conflicting emotions flicker across her face. He didn’t blame her.

  “Too many people know about me for me to be able to hide,” she said, as if she were forcing each syllable. “My first thought when I saw you this morning was that you were there to kill me before Alvarez or Fontaine could implement their plans.” She cocked her head to one side. “How did you find me?”

  Her fear was fueling the scent that had led him to her, the scent he shouldn’t have been able to detect for weeks. If he touched her now… His beast clawed at him. Made him hard, made him vulnerable.

  “How did you find me?” she asked again, fear and anger tingeing the quiet, demanding question.