Return of the Assassin (All the King's Men)

by Lynne, Donya

  CHAPTER 12

  Fool! You fool! Go after her.

  For once, Malek didn't have a nasty comeback for The Voice. In fact, every muscle in his body tensed as if preparing to run and chase Gina down.

  Micah pointed to Sev. "Go get her. Trevor, go with him. Make sure she doesn't leave. Lakota, report to Dispatch and wait for me. I'm with you tonight."

  Malek began to follow the others out, but Micah stopped him. "Not you." He grabbed his arm and pointed to a chair. "Sit."

  He was not in the mood for this shit and refused to sit down. Instead, he paced to the far wall and leaned against it. "This is your doing. I know it. She didn't just show back up here. You made her come back. Why?" He could guess Micah's reasons and had a funny feeling he would be dead-on.

  Micah shut the door and squared him up. "You know why."

  Anger burned the inside of his skin. Micah was meddling where he didn't belong, forcing Gina like a hard wedge between him and Carmen to drive them apart. "You had no right." The words hissed out of him, tainted with outrage, and he pushed away from the wall, a picture of male aggression.

  Micah stepped toward him, mirroring Malek's body language. "So what if I called her back? I told you I was willing you to live, didn't I? This is my will exerting force over yours. You got a problem with that?"

  The two glared at each other, and Malek's unspoken hell yes, I've got a problem with that went without saying. "Well, I'm willing you to kiss my ass."

  Micah ignored him. "You will take her home, and you will watch over her, and you will get your head out of your ass and take her as your mate, Malek."

  "You can't force me."

  "I won't have to."

  True. If she was in his home, in such close proximity, he wouldn't be able to resist her. Even now, his cock practically wept to be inside her. If Micah forced this—and it looked like he was—he would have to find a way to resist her until he could get her out of his home. Somehow he would have to find a way to put her in someone else's care, because it was clear Micah was going to be a hard-ass on the issue, and putting her in harm's way was out of the question.

  Damn Micah to hell for interfering like this and putting him between a rock and a hard place.

  I know where you need to put your hard place.

  Butt out.

  "You have no right—" Malek started to say again.

  Micah cut him off. "I have every right. I'm in charge. You got that? Or do I need to remind you again?" He gestured toward Malek's throat. "What I say goes, and I'm telling you to take her home and stay there with her until you're no longer a walking corpse."

  "Asshole," Malek muttered under his breath. He might have to follow orders, but he didn't have to like them, and he certainly didn't have to leave Micah's office without making it clear how much he didn't appreciate being jerked around.

  "Calling me names isn't going to get you out of watching over her."

  "I know what you're doing, motherfucker." Malek leaned forward and stabbed a finger in Micah's direction, unable to keep his mouth shut any longer.

  "Oh?" Micah opened his arms innocently. "I thought we'd already determined that."

  "Yeah, well, I have a few choice words for you on the matter."

  Micah chuffed. "You could start by saying thank you."

  "Thank you? How 'bout fuck you? Mind your own goddamn business. This is my life, and if I want to fuck it up, that's my choice, asshole. You are messing where you don't belong. I'm fine. I'll be fine. I just need time, and your meddling isn't helping."

  Micah walked behind his desk then turned, glanced down, and leaned forward, planting both fists on the desk's surface. "Where were you last night, Malek? What were you doing before you came in here this morning?"

  Malek frowned and pulled back. His mouth moved, but no words came out, only air. Last night he had brutally fucked Trina and had contemplated setting up a St. Andrew's Cross in his basement while tripping down the stairs into hell.

  "Is that your idea of fine, Malek?" Micah said quietly. "Huh? Buying whores every night, brutally fucking them, leaving them bruised and battered?" Micah stood upright, and his voice grew louder. "Is that what you're going to do with all this time you need to be," he made air quotes, "fine."

  Outrage and humiliation dueled for supremacy. Knowing that Micah had seen his debased behavior and was now using it against him grated his nerves like barbed wire. "That's none of your damn business." He said it as if he could punch Micah with just a thought. Damn him. Micah had seen the degrading shit he pulled with his nightly buys. He had seen the way he abused them for his own pleasure, not that pleasure was easy to find with them. They weren't what he wanted and never would be.

  "And, uh, how are those conversations coming with yourself? Huh, Malek? Have any good discussions lately?" Micah strolled back around the desk.

  "Bastard." Rage and resentment skyrocketed in his veins at the invasion of his privacy. "You and your fucking mindfreak powers can go to hell. What goes on in my mind is none of your business."

  "You're a loose cannon right now, Malek, so everything you are and everything you do is my business."

  "Oh really?"

  Micah pushed forward. "That's right."

  "You son of a bitch," Malek said, chest-bumping him.

  Micah's navy blue irises fired with anger as he surged forward against Malek. "I've had enough of this. You need a wake-up call like no one I've ever known, so I'm forcing the issue that you've been too chickenshit for centuries to deal with. If you don't like it, that's too damn bad."

  The two stood chest to chest, neither giving an inch.

  "Go to hell, Micah! I don't need you telling me how to live my life and how to deal with my problems."

  "Could have fooled me. You're long overdue to deal with Carmen's death. Get over it already."

  "Oh, is that how you dealt with Katarina's death, Micah? Huh? By getting over it?" Malek made air quotes of his own and sneered.

  Micah's eyes narrowed. Malek was pushing his luck, but he didn't care.

  "You little asshole," Micah said, giving him a shove.

  Malek shoved back. "Doesn't feel so good having the tables turned, does it?"

  Micah seemed to grow a few inches taller as he swelled with anger. "At least I didn't internalize my pain and suffering, becoming a sterile, OCD, whitewashed version of myself who held entire conversations inside my head with some made-up little demon only known to me." Micah came at him like a pit bull in a dogfight. "I've seen what's inside there." Micah popped his index finger against Malek's forehead, forcing Malek's head to bounce back. "I've seen the fucked-up wasteland your insides have become because you refuse to accept Carmen's death. At least I accepted Katarina's." Micah stalked him now, bumping chests with him, forcing him backward despite Malek's attempt to resist. "I accepted that Kat was gone, and I lived in the seven realms of hell until I found Sam. You? You refuse to accept it, you little asswipe. Carmen. Is. Dead. DEAD!" Micah seethed and breathed heavily, and then lowered his voice to a lethal hiss. "Your salvation is waiting right outside that door." Micah pointed toward the hall. "But you're too stubborn to accept it and let yourself be happy."

  "Screw you, Micah!" Malek had had enough and elbowed Micah's ribcage.

  With a lightning back step, Micah cocked his arm and drove it into Malek's abdomen, and then slowly backed up as Malek fell forward, choking and gasping for air. It felt like every organ in his body had just been shoved up inside his chest and esophagus. Strong bastard! What had Malek been thinking going up against Micah like that? Oh, that's right, he hadn't been thinking.

  "That's for Katarina, asshole," Micah said, wiping the back of his hand over his mouth.

  Sucking up his pride even if he couldn't suck down enough air to breathe, Malek stood and faced Micah as square as he could with his liver taking up residence in his throat.

  "Just butt out, Micah." A cough that sounded more like a croak shot from his lungs as just the simple task of inhaling seemed to
be too much. "Just butt out."

  "Fine, but you're still taking Gina home with you. You hear me?" Micah pushed his long sleeves up his arms as if he were mad at the fabric, then he lanced Malek with a glare so icy it was a wonder he didn't freeze. "Do you hear me?"

  "I hear you, asshole!" Malek flipped Micah off.

  Micah sat down and combed back his long, black hair with his fingers.

  "Get out of here, Malek," Micah said, not even looking at him. "Before I kick your ass so hard you won't know whether you're shitting, pissing, or puking. I do not want to see you back here for twenty-four hours, and it's quite possible I won't even want to see you then."

  Malek frowned. He really had hit a nerve with Micah by bringing up Katarina.

  "What the hell am I supposed to do with her for twenty-four hours?"

  Micah's head never moved, which made him look even more ominous when his gaze shot to Malek's. "I'd suggest you fuck her and get it over with, but things being such as they are, I doubt that's going to happen, so I don't give a damn what you do with her. Just do it where I don't have to see you. Got it?"

  "Sure. Yeah. I got it." Malek could finally take a breath again, and he turned and yanked open the door. "Maybe I'll see you in a week then."

  "That'd be fucking spectacular," Micah said from behind him.

  That asshole. Micah had no right to interfere and stick his nose up Malek's grill. Okay fine, he felt protective of Gina. Fine, he would even admit his body had betrayed him and struck up a bond between her and him. But that didn't mean he had to bend. And it didn't mean he wanted her or liked that she was his mate.

  To the contrary. He hated it. Hated every goddamn second of wanting her in a way he hadn't wanted another female since Carmen.

  Anger fueled his heavy march down the hall as he followed Gina's fragrant scent, so luxurious and intoxicating. But Malek wouldn't give Micah the satisfaction of accepting her.

  Yeah, right. Too late, buddy. Once she's in your home and within arm's length, you're done for. You won't be able to hold back.

  He shook off The Voice, determined to stay strong. If only he could convince himself he could, but in his heart he knew the truth. No male was strong enough to refuse the mating call and maintain his sanity, as he was beginning to discover. And that just pissed him off more, because this was a fight he couldn't win. He could posture and dig in his heels all he wanted, but in the end, the rational part of him knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back for long if she was in his home. It was only a matter of time, and he would be on her and in her like a flower needed sunlight and rain.

  Her scent led him to the break room, where he rounded the corner and glared first at Sev, then Trevor, and finally at Gina. "Let's go." He shifted so he was standing sideways in the door, head lowered, and his gaze directed back out into the hall. Jesus, but she smelled good.

  "This is bullshit," she said, standing.

  "You're telling me." His glare flicked askance in her direction, mostly because he wanted to look at her again, see her flawless skin, perfectly proportioned body, and striking face. She was beauty incarnate. Perfection.

  He had to get himself under control.

  Trevor stood and joined her as she proceeded with caution toward him, but Sev had the sense not to test him and stayed behind.

  Gina parked a few feet away, her arms crossed. She glared at him out of the corner of her eye. "Where are we going?"

  "My place."

  "Fuck that," she said. "I'm not going to be locked up all day in your home."

  Trevor shook his head. "I second that."

  Malek scoffed. "I third it, but…" He sucked his teeth and gave a nonchalant shrug. "Those are my orders, sweetheart."

  She scowled, and angry reluctance practically rolled off of her. "Great. I get to be locked up with Jekyll and Hyde. Fabulous." She rolled her eyes and started out the door.

  He started after her, but Trevor grabbed his arm and yanked him back, all male aggression. Which settled about as well as an Ebola outbreak in New York City.

  Malek flung off Trevor's arm and got in his face. "Don't touch me," he said between clenched teeth. "I'm not in the mood."

  Trevor met him eye to eye. "Neither am I, asshole, and if you hurt her, I will hunt you down and kill you. Is that clear? She's my family, and I don't care what shit you've got going on in your head, but I won't stand by and let her get hurt by you or anyone else."

  With an acid stare, Malek's narrowed eyes locked onto Trevor's. "Do I look like I care?"

  "Not really," Trevor said, "which is why I'm giving you a warning."

  "Save it." He shoved Trevor back and looked at Gina, who had stopped in the middle of the hall.

  "Are you finished showing everybody how big your dick is?" she said. "Or should I take a seat and wait for you to prove to everyone how big and tough you are?"

  Only she could say something like that to him and get away with it.

  Feeling put in his place—and not liking how that felt one bit—Malek spun on his heel and marched past her. When she didn't immediately follow, he stopped, turned back, and said, "Today, sweetheart." It pained him to talk to her that way, but treating her like shit was the only way he could maintain control.

  She glared at him, and then issued Trevor a final glance. "I'll call you later. Conan's in a hurry."

  "Be careful," Trevor said, reaching for her hand.

  Before he could stop himself, Malek shot toward them, knocked Trevor's arm away, and shoved him backward as his mated male instincts overrode conscious thought. Conan indeed. "She'll be fine, asshole."

  Gina huffed and glared at him, then spun and stalked down the hall.

  Malek regarded Trevor then Sev, and then turned and followed her.

  In front of him, Gina was a petite firecracker, her steps quick and strong. She was angry, and that was good. If she was angry, she would stay away from him, and the farther away she was, the better. Otherwise, he would claim her by morning.

  * * *

  Gina was a lit fuse with attitude. Admitting to God and everyone that she had been mated to Armand had boosted her confidence. Hey world! I was mated to a bastard and lived to tell about it! Damn. Talk about empowerment. Maybe she should have talked more openly about Armand before now.

  Or perhaps it was her growing irritation with Malek that had her so fired up. The guy had her in knotted twists over whether he was coming or going. And lucky her. Now she was stuck with him. The crazy guy who claimed to be her mate but who seemed more likely to push her off the edge of a cliff and onto a bed of ten-foot razors. She sure had a way with the opposite sex, attracting what had to be the most undesirable males within the vampire race. Was this her lot in life? Was she to be the butt of every bad relationship joke known to man and vampires alike? Would she ever attract a normal male or forever be known as a jerk magnet?

  "For God's sake, you're like a barbarian," she said. "I won't tolerate this shit from you." She tossed a look over her shoulder without slowing her gait. "You hear me?"

  "Yeah, yeah. I hear you. Who can't?" He caught up to her, and they strode down the hall like pissed off assassins. They were both decked out in black, combat-ready gear. All they needed was Jason Statham and Sylvester Stallone, and they could be the cast for the next Expendables movie.

  She ignored his verbal jab. "I've put up with enough shit from males like you, Malek. I won't have it, anymore. You don't have to like me, but you will respect me, or I'll lay your ass out. You got that? Don't think I won't. I—"

  As she passed a heavy door on the right side of the hall, Malek latched onto her wrist and yanked her back around. "Slow down, Black Widow. You missed your turn."

  She spun and flung his hand off her arm. "Don't touch me."

  He opened the door and headed through. "No problem." The door began to hiss shut behind him.

  She grabbed the handle and pushed the door open with such force it banged against the wall. Bastard. She glared at the back of his head before followi
ng him down a set of concrete stairs in a dimly lit stairwell. "And don't call me Black Widow." The door slammed shut behind her.

  "Then don't call me Conan," he shot back.

  "If the shoe fits!" She raced down the stairs behind him.

  "Males like me, huh?" he said a moment later, referring back to her earlier comment.

  "Yes, males like you."

  His long, dark hair feathered off his face as he rounded the landing and took the next flight of stairs. "And what kind of male am I?"

  She steamed after him. "An arrogant, barbaric asshole. One who thinks my only purpose in life is to take his shit and not fight back. Well, screw that. I've learned a thing or two over the years, and one thing I've learned is never to let a male like you make me feel like nothing. I'm not nothing, Malek." She slapped her palm on her chest to emphasize her point. "And I'll never allow you or anyone else make me feel like I am."

  "I never said you were." He reached the bottom of the stairs, yanked open another door, and stormed out of the stairwell as if rushing to get away from her.

  "You don't have to. Your actions speak for you, asshole."

  He marched through the parking garage, barreling down an aisle of SUVs used by the AKM personnel. "What do you want from me, Gina? Huh? You want me to say I'm sorry? You want me to buy you flowers and treat you like you're something special? Huh? Is that it?" He wouldn't even look at her, keeping his gaze averted even as he tossed a glance over his shoulder at her.

  "Eat me, Malek."

  He bristled. "You would do well to stay out of my way, Gina, if you know what's good for you. Just stay out of my way or you'll get hurt."

  Was he trying to scare her? If only he knew. After Armand, she was immune to being scared. Sure, because of Armand, she had lived in fear of mating again, but not because she was scared of males. Not at all. She was afraid of losing herself, of becoming just somebody's mate and no longer Gina. Of becoming a big, fat nobody.

  "You don't scare me, Malek," she said, staying with him stride for stride. "I've been there, done that. I've lived in fear and have been through the hell that went with it. Be scared of you? After what I've been through? Please." She scoffed as Malek's steps became more labored and his hands clenched into fists. "You're nothing compared to what I've been through. I've been treated like nothing…abused…tortured…" When had tears sprouted in her eyes? She tried to blink them away as she glanced down at his fists. "So go ahead and hit me. It's nothing I haven't been through before. I mean, hell…my first mate's idea of intimacy was closer to rape than making love."