Soldier (Emerald Isle Tigers Book 2)

by Cass Reynolds

  He scrubbed his face with one hand, and she couldn't help but notice the dark circles around his eyes. "I can tell you won't be convinced tonight. But I'm not giving up. I'm just going to come back here, every night, until you agree just to get me to shut up. A tiger does not leave his mate in a cage. And a Marine doesn't leave a man behind."

  Chapter Three

  As Chase disappeared into the shadows, Mercy breathed a sigh of relief, and tried to ignore the sharp pain of regret. It had to be done. She had a mission to complete, and it was better not to lead him on. Turning back to the cot, she snagged a baggy white t-shirt and yanked it over her head. She could have done that half an hour ago and spared Chase, but it had been fun to watch him squirm.

  She bent to retrieve her armor from the floor and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. There had been something, the whole time she was distracted by the sexy tiger. Something she should have been paying attention to. Something very important.

  Every fiber of her being was screaming with alarm as she turned slowly back towards the barred door. A great beast of a man, unshaved and unshowered, leered at her from the other side. He wore the standard guard uniform, although not with any pride. Mercy regarded him with cool disinterest, even while every alarm went off in her brain.

  Why was he here? Guards were forbidden from messing with the fighters - Zelloth didn't want them in less than peak fighting condition. And yet this one was here, looking at her like he wouldn't mind taking her for a test drive. And she was practically naked, of course. Well, she may as well ask what he wanted.

  "Did you need something, pig?" True, Mercy was a world class fighter and killer. But she didn't discount the power of some old fashioned bravado.

  As the guard replied, her heart sank. Nothing good would come of this.

  "I saw the tiger visit you. Zelloth is going to be very interested in that. And I bet I'll get a nice little reward for letting him know. Who knows, maybe he'll give me you?" He grinned savagely at her, displaying a mouth full of rotting teeth.

  Mercy swallowed; she had never felt this exposed and endangered in her life. As the guard yanked the keys off his belt, she backed up, running through the contents of her cell in her head, desperate for anything she could use as a weapon. Nothing. Maybe Chase wasn't gone, maybe she could call out to him...

  No. She steeled her mind against that thought. She had told him she wasn't a damsel in distress, and she wouldn't go back on that now. At the very least, Vesper would get her out of this. He would never let her live it down, but a lifetime of ribbing was preferable to the alternative... She gave the guard another glance and shivered, before pressing down hard on the tiny tattoo on her inner wrist. Vesper would come. She would be fine. She clung to that thought as the guard shoved his way inside, grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her out of the cell.

  Zelloth sat behind a massive wooden desk, his mouth pursed in displeasure. "Is there a reason you're bothering me?" he asked the guard, disdain dripping from every word.

  The guard yanked Mercy forward, tossing her on the braided rug in front of the annoyed incubus. "Know that tiger that ‘died’ two nights back? Caught ‘im visiting this one. Seemed pretty alive to me. Figured you might wanna... ask her some questions?"

  Zelloth raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow, genuine surprise on his face. Mercy tried to control her shaking and look at anything but him. She was not equipped to deal with a sex demon, not like this. He could have her on her knees begging in under a minute, and she didn't have anything sharp to put through his heart.

  She could feel his gaze on her as he evaluated her. "Is this true? Did a dead tiger visit you tonight?"

  Mercy spoke to the floor as she answered, relieved that so far she didn't feel any trace of desire for him. "Yes, he was here. But he left, and didn't share where he was going."

  She should have known that that answer wouldn't satisfy him. Zelloth rose, and came around the desk. He crouched next to her, heat radiating from his body. Demons - they couldn't help but burn hot. "And how is it that a dead tiger came to visit?"

  It was hard not to scramble away from him, but she stayed put. Show no fear. Even when you're scared shitless, do not let on. Cardinal rule. "No idea. I wasn't friends with him while he was here, and he didn't share his secret. Perhaps he has nine lives?"

  The joke was dumb. It was very tough to gauge the anger level of an incubus, and she had just misjudged it. Zelloth's hand shot out, as he grabbed her throat in his crushing grip. "Do not toy with me bitch. Answer my questions, now, and maybe I'll reward you with a quick death." The last word came out as a hiss - he was close to losing control.

  Mercy gasped out an answer, deciding that the truth wouldn't make things any worse. "H-honestly, I don't know h-how he survived. Just came here tonight to f-free me."

  His hold did not loosen. "And why would he come back, risking his own life, to free you?"

  Mercy attempted a shrug. "S-said something about a mating curse. I'm s-supposed to be his d-destined mate."

  A slow smile spread across the incubi's face, as he chuckled - a terrible sound that sent alarm shooting through every pore in her body. "So the tiger is alive, and did me the great favor of coming back and revealing his mate. Perfect. I will have him again, and I will find out how he escaped." Zelloth rose to his feet, pulling Mercy up with him. "After all, he's not going to leave his mate in my clutches."

  Something seemed to occur to him, as a small frown creased his face. "Why didn't you let him free you? I'm sure that together, you could have at least gotten out of your cage."

  Mercy's fingers clutched at the hand around her throat, her head swimming, vision blurring. "N-not a damsel in distress. I don't get r-rescued."

  As she gave into the black out, she heard him laugh uproariously. "What a stupid little girl. Look where it got you - should have just agreed that you need rescuing." Mercy agreed slightly - and prayed to every god she knew that Vesper would be the one to rescue her.

  Chapter Four

  Chase wandered down the dark city street aimlessly. He hadn't really made any plans before rushing back here, and now he had no idea where to hole up for the day. If he had asked his sister, she probably would've had some ideas, but obviously that would have created more problems. Without her, he was going to have a hard time. He didn't know what it was, but somehow Diana always found what she needed.

  Something rustled in the air, and Chase picked up his pace. Whatever it was, was watching him - he could feel the eyes on him. Some kind of giant predatory bird? Whatever was making the noises was no ordinary hawk, that's for sure.

  The noises came closer, the soft sounds of feathers straining with no updraft to assist. Chase debated - should he make a run for it, or turn around and fight? Trying to outrun a bird in his human form would be useless, and he didn't want to go around turning into a tiger in these streets. Making a snap decision, he stopped and swung around, assuming a fighting stance. He had a sudden vision of punching a giant falcon in the beak and almost laughed.

  But what waited for him was no falcon. His mouth dropped open as he took in the sight - a very pissed off looking angel hovered in the air a few feet off the ground, his wings beating lazily. It almost looked like the wings weren't actually doing anything besides looking pretty. Or rather... they might have looked pretty at some point.

  Chase knew the stories about fallen angels - as soon as they renounced their boss, who happened to be the Christian god, they lost their angelic good looks. The halo disappeared, and the wings went from pure white to a dirty black. Eventually the feathers started rotting and falling off, leaving skeleton peeking through the decay. They didn't grow demon horns or anything unless they actually signed up to be demons - didn't look like this guy had gone that route. He was just... slowly rotting to death. Gross.

  Still though, why was a fallen angel following him? "Did you need something?"

  The angel dropped to the ground with a thud, his wings disappearing into thin air
. Interesting. Chase always assumed you'd know if you were dealing with one, cause of the huge wings. But if they could hide them... this guy looked like a normal human now, although he still reeked of magic. Tattered jeans with holes in the knees hung off his hips, a faded Rolling Stones t-shirt topping off the look. No shoes, his bright red hair desperately needed a trim, and his face was gaunt - either a side of effect of the "rotting to death" thing, or dude needed to eat more. Right now his face was tight with fury. Awesome. How had Chase pissed him off?

  He spoke, his voice low and angry. "You come in here, draw attention to Mercy, and then just piss off while her life is threatened? What's your problem?"

  Chase gaped at him. Draw attention to her? Life threatened? What the hell had happened in the last hour? "I have no idea what you're talking about."

  The angel barked out a single laugh. "The fuck you don't. A 'dead' tiger sneaks into the Coliseum, pays no attention to his surroundings, spews out some bullshit about a mating curse, and takes off. A guard heard it all you idiot. And proceeded to haul Mercy's ass directly to Zelloth's office, where he choked her out and is presently making plans to use her as bait, to lure you back. After which I'm sure he has gruesome ideas for killing both of you."

  Chase had no idea if he could even trust this guy. True, he knew a lot. But how would he know all of this unless he'd been present for it? "And you found out about all this, how?"

  The angel rubbed his wrist and scowled at Chase. "Mercy and I are linked, and that's all you need to know. Now I need you to get out of town. I can get her out of there no problem, but if you hang around you'll just muck everything up. If you really care about her, leave."

  Chase laughed. Who'd this guy think he was? "So, if you heard about the 'mating curse', you should realize the implications. I'm not going anywhere."

  The angel stared at him, annoyance and resignation plain in his face. He wasn't a stupid man - he knew full well that Chase wouldn't leave. Still didn't hurt to try.

  This "link" that he had with Mercy was interesting - it bothered the tiger on a primal level; no other man should be linked to his mate. Still, it could be useful. There was nothing to be gained by making enemies of each other.

  "So, I feel like introductions are in order. My name is Chase Anders; I've known Mercy for about a month, met her in the Coliseum obviously. The whole mate curse happened and that's that. Believe me, she is not someone I would choose to pursue. And yourself?"

  The angel bristled, clearly taking offense. "What is that supposed to mean, you wouldn't normally choose to pursue her?"

  "See, there's supposed to be a give and take. You answer my questions before you ask your own." Chase shook his head in mock sadness. This guy was itching for a fight, and he did not intend to give it to him.

  "Fine. My name is Vesper. I met Mercy about twenty years ago. It's a series of long stories." Vesper glowered at him, and Chase swore he saw an outline of wings, flapping in anger. This wing magic of theirs was fascinating.

  "See, that wasn't so hard was it?" The shifter grinned broadly at the angel, "Now, as to why I would not pursue her - she is a famous assassin who is definitely not interested in a mate. There are any number normal, less murderous women out there, who would be happy to have me."

  A sly grin worked its way free of Vesper's lips, doing wonders for his face. "But would you really want to pick a nice, boring woman over someone like Mercy? Truly?"

  Chase had to concede the point there. Capable, dangerous women had always interested him more. "Maybe. Anyways, you said that Zelloth is threatening her? Do we have a plan to get her out?"

  Vesper shrugged, spreading his arms in the universal gesture of uncertainty. "Uh, the thing is, I'm not convinced she wants to be 'saved'. She activated our link, but that could have just been because she was going into the inner sanctum and she wanted me to listen in. She's not there because they can actually keep her you know - I can have her out with the snap of her fingers. She's spying on them."

  Chase considered that, finally understanding why she was such a docile captive. "She should have made more of a fuss you know. It’s suspicious for a renowned assassin to be a model prisoner. Should have killed a guard now and then."

  Vesper shrugged again, indifference on his face. "Maybe. She's not really a spy - more of a slit your throat while you sleep kind of woman. But when she got thrown in here, she saw an opportunity. Still, this kind of subterfuge isn't her strong suit."

  "And what is your role in all this?" Chase eyed the man, finding it odd that a fallen angel would just be following a human assassin around like a lost puppy.

  "We're just friends. I help her out with her kills and we just kind of... stick together. One of the long stories, and not really any of your concern." Vesper said it with a finality that let Chase knew there would be no further discussion on the topic.

  "I see. Well, do you know what Zelloth plans to do with her? At the very least we need to find out whether she wants help or not. Activating your super-secret link could have been a distress call." Okay, yes, Chase was not even slightly happy about their magic connection.

  Vesper's eyes grew distant, as he seemed to focus on something very far away. "Yes. There's going to be a party. Tomorrow night. He's going to advertise it all over the city, as a meet and greet for his new lady love. He's hoping you show up. Sounds like he does want that tiger skin rug. Oh, but he plans to make you kill her first."

  Chase ground his teeth, trying to hold his rage in check. There would be plenty of time to rip that incubus' head from his body. He needed to focus. "Well, that is never going to happen. But it sounds like we're going to a party."

  The angel fixed him with a hard stare. "If you go to the party, you're just walking into his trap. And you think Mercy won't kill you if she has to? Cause she will. There's no silly mating attraction holding her back."

  Chase didn't want to believe that she would kill him, but he knew the truth in Vesper's words. This woman was first and foremost an assassin, and no doubt she would do whatever necessary to protect herself. If Zelloth offered her life in exchange for a new tiger skin, she might just take him up on it.

  Then again, if the angel really could have her out of there immediately, she would have no reason to give into coercion.

  "Hey, what did you mean when you said you get her ‘with the snap of her fingers’?”

  Vesper shot him a grin, the first truly joyful look that had crossed his face since they met. "Angels don't actually use their wings anymore. We evolved centuries ago - now they're just there for show. We're all about that teleportation these days! And we can do this weird hovering thing. Pretty sure we stole that from the vampires though..."

  "And the rotting feathers? Is that a side effect of stealing magic from the undead?"

  The smile vanished from Vesper's face. "No. That's God's punishment, for those who would dare disobey him. Which these days, is almost all of us. If you see an angel without rotting wings, you better talk fast and get the hell out of there. Anyone still following 'Our Lord on High's' directives is basically a psychopath at this point."

  Chase filed that info away, although he wasn't sure he should trust a fallen angel who hung out with a confirmed psychopath. "Huh. Well anyway, sounds like we have a party to get ready for." He started off down the road, not because he had any idea where he was going, but rather because he needed to feel like he was doing something. Vesper half walked, half floated along behind him, loudly trying to explain why they were NOT going to the party. Chase ignored him.

  Chapter Five

  Mercy wasn't sure if she expected to wake up again. As she was blacking out, she wondered if the incubus would even notice that he was killing her in time to stop.

  But when she did wake up, it occurred to her that she might have preferred to remain in a blissful state of unconsciousness.

  She was in an opulent room, laying on the satin sheets covering a king sized bed. Her ankles were shackled, a long chain snaked away from them and wra
pped around one of the bed posts. Trapped. She still wore only her tiny panties and the loose t-shirt from earlier, so there was nothing that could be fashioned into a lock pick. She supposed that she should count herself lucky however – it was actually rather considerate of her captor to not strip her completely naked. He was an incubus after all – a demon completely obsessed with sex.

  Mercy looked around the room, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. As he eyes landed on a wingback chair, placed strategically next to the roaring fire, she had to choke back a small scream. She wasn’t alone. Zelloth himself sat there, hands steepled, regarding her with a half-smile. It was a predatory smile, enhanced by the gleam in his red eyes. He was a monster and she was his prey. She tried not to think about what an incubus might do with his prey.

  He spoke. “Sleeping beauty awakens.”

  Mercy considered her options. Taunt him? Probably not a good idea. She wasn’t a coward, but she also wasn’t an idiot. She was completely at his… mercy. Funny how the tables turn. Still, she was afraid that if she opened her mouth, smart ass comments would automatically slip out. Her best bet was silence.

  Zelloth raised one eyebrow at her, his face still calm. “You would deny me the pleasure of your conversation?”

  More silence.

  He sighed, rising to his feet in one fluid movement. “Now you’re just being rude. But I don’t doubt that I can open your mouth.”

  There was no noise as he stalked towards the bed, looking less human the closer he got. It wasn’t as though he had any of the stereotypical “demon” features. No horns, spiked tail, or red skin. The red eyes were it, but in this day and age that was as likely to be a glamour spell as anything else. Still, his features were too perfect, his movements too contrived. He was playing at being human. And doing a damn good job too, but something was just ever so slightly off. It was enough to give Mercy goosebumps. She simultaneously tried to avoid looking at him while also willing herself to not scramble backwards.