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

by Lynne, Donya

  She was insatiable, but she could only milk a cow so long before the udders emptied and there was no more milk to give. And she had milked Searcy and Vaydon dry.

  No matter. There would be another day to ride them like the broncos they were. Besides, the three of them had a big night tonight. They had a bitch to kill. Getting a few hours of sleep in the afternoon had been a wise call. That way, they could be good and frosty on the hunt. She didn't think they would have a problem finding Gina and taking her out. Malek appeared too weak to protect her against two Dacian warriors and her. She couldn't count herself out. She wanted a piece of this action. The look on Malek's face alone would be worth the effort of tagging along.

  What had she seen in Malek? Because now that she had found two prize stallions who effortlessly gave her everything she needed and more, Malek seemed so much like small potatoes. At least one good thing had come from her brief interlude with him. He had given her a powerful bargaining chip to dangle in front of Searcy: Gina. Without that, Lorena might not have won them over, and if she hadn't won them over, she would be in Lucan's bed right now. And while Lucan was an adequate lover, he didn't even compare to these two. She looked between Searcy and Vaydon, and an almost demented sense of joy bubbled inside her belly like it was Christmas Day and she had gotten everything she had asked for and more.

  Stretching like a large feline, she groaned quietly, relishing the residue of pain in her body. Then she pushed herself up and slid to the foot of the bed between her two male suitors, pushed herself to her feet, and padded barefoot and naked to the bathroom.

  Mascara-smeared eyes stared with satisfaction at her from the mirror, and her mahogany hair was a tousled disaster, tangled and strewn about like she had just spent a month in a jungle with no comb. Bruises in the shape of fingers ringed her throat and stamped her shoulders and arms like faded tattoos.

  Brands. Like the ones ranchers burned into the hides of their cattle. She was branded now. Theirs. Searcy's and Vaydon's. And she caressed the marks with adoring fingers, gazing at them with hooded eyes. Heat flooded her saturated core.

  Searcy appeared in the doorway behind her, his silver eyes sleepy but alert. He met her gaze in the mirror, and one corner of his mouth ticked upward with the devil's smile. Without a word, he stepped up behind her and quietly shut the door.

  "You will take me to Gina tonight," he said, slowly raking his nails down her raw back.

  She trembled, and wicked, lusty fire shot through her. "Yes." She would do anything for him. Anything at all.

  He licked his lips and his quicksilver eyes flashed like mercury, deadly and poisonous. "But first…" He pushed behind her and spread the cheeks of her ass. "A little wake-up call."

  He breeched her tight opening, raw from the day's savagery, and thrust sharply inside. She cried out, slapped her palms down on the vanity, and nearly fell into rapture from the pain.

  She didn't need a wake-up call, but she sure felt like she was dreaming.

  * * *

  Malek stood on the balcony of Micah's apartment. Spring was in the air, and just as with the seasonal new beginning, a sense of newness ran in his veins. Had this been how Micah felt when he met Sam? As if the proverbial planets had aligned and the heavens had opened to rain God's light down on him?

  Man, he so had to eat crow for Micah now, didn't he? But so what? He had what he needed. What he wanted. He chuckled to himself. He and Micah had gone at each other like brothers fighting over the top bunk…times one hundred. And, as usual, Micah had been right. He was always right. At some point, Malek would have to stop doubting his oldest friend, who had been with him through just about everything a guy could go through, both good and bad. Now that he was sane again, trusting Micah would be a lot easier, because there were no more voices in Malek's head to contradict Micah's wisdom.

  His hands rested on the banister, and he gazed out over the city, a perpetual smile on his face. What a difference a day made. Just one day ago, he had still been fighting his feelings, trying to justify why he was no good for Gina, even after admitting to himself she was indeed his mate. And now he had fully taken her in, joining with her in body and blood. He lifted his hand and ran the tips of his fingers over the almost imperceptible mark where Gina had taken his vein. The tiny indentations felt good on the side of his neck, like they belonged there. Which they did. She owned his body as he owned hers, and she could bite him wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted to.

  A day.

  Hell, not even a day. He had relented and accepted his station by her side in an instant. When he realized back at his home that she had formed a biological link to him, as well, the camel's back had broken. There had been no way he could resist her another second. And when he arrived here and set eyes on her, and then witnessed the fire of her wrath against him as she unleashed her anger at what he'd done, every doubt and fear faded away. All that mattered in that moment was to take away her pain.

  Would the vampire phenomenon known as mating ever make sense to him? To any vampire, for that matter? A mated male, especially one who was newly mated or without his mate, was like a damn pinball, completely at the whim of biological forces he couldn't see. And those forces shattered his entire being, body and soul. They fractured his mind, knotted his sanity, and thrust him beyond rational thought…all to force him to either take his mate or die. Then as soon as he claimed his mate, all the fallen, scattered dominoes of his psyche shifted in an instant back into order to leave him scratching his head at how he could have been so stupid.

  Malek wasn't the first male to behave like an idiot times ten while in the throes of mated need, and he wouldn't be the last. He was just thankful he had awakened from his dance with mated insanity in time to make the connection that Gina was his future, while Carmen—may she now rest in peace—was his past. For the first time in more than ten human lifetimes, Malek was at peace and whole again.

  Sure, Carmen still hummed in the back of his mind, but she was a pleasant presence now, not a painful memory. Guilt no longer jarred him, and he no longer fooled himself about where she was. She wasn't washing his clothes in the stream in the woods, and she wasn't tending to the fields or sleeping. She was dead. And although her death was tragic, she had passed over into the other realm a long time ago, where her spirit lived on, and where she no doubt watched over him.

  In the distance, lightning flashed, still too far away to worry about, but close enough to know a storm was coming. Not that he needed the lightning to tell him that. The low clouds racing to the north and east, along with the unseasonably warm, humid gusts that blew out of the south, told him as much.

  The wind blew his hair off his face, and he breathed in as he closed his eyes, refreshed in body and spirit. Cleansed. Ready to move into his future with his new mate.

  The pain and suffering were over. No more fractured voices or split personalities haunted his mind. Just that quickly, Gina had glued his broken spirit back together. Malek was ready to live again. No, that wasn't exactly right. It wasn't that he was ready to live. He just simply craved life. A life with Gina.

  He sighed and gazed out at the dark horizon beyond the lights of Chicago as another flash of lightning faintly lit the sky. A finality and sense of peace settled over him. "Good-bye, Carmen," he whispered. "I can finally say good-bye to you, but I'll never forget you."

  His past was over, and as Gina walked quietly up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her lips against the back of his shoulder, he placed his hands over hers and pressed against her, feeling his future in her embrace.

  "I want to take you home," he said quietly.

  "I am home." She squeezed him harder. "With you, anywhere is home."

  He smiled as he looked down at her slender hands, her fingers curled into his shirt against his abdomen. She had such small, delicate hands for an assassin. "Good point." He caressed the backs of her fingers, and she opened her loose fist so he could glide his fingers in between hers. "I'll clarif
y. I want to take you to my house. Our house, if you'll have it."

  She rested her cheek between his shoulder blades. "Yes. With a little decorating, of course."

  He chuckled. "Of course." His house definitely needed a feminine touch to make it a warm, cozy space. "And we'll need lots and lots of bookcases."

  He felt her smile against his back. "Yes. Lots of bookcases."

  "And the kitchen needs to be remodeled." He liked this, the two of them talking about their plans for the future.

  "Your kitchen isn't so bad," she said.

  "But there's nothing of you in it. I want you in every room, Gina. So that when I'm home, everywhere I look, I'll see a little piece of you."

  She remained silent, but her arms tightened around him as if she refused to ever let go, both physically and mentally. She had claimed him as her mate as much as he had claimed her, and both of them silently acknowledged they were in this together, through thick and thin, more tightly bonded than two pieces of steel welded together.

  After a moment, he turned his head to the side and said over his shoulder, "Is that all right with you, piccolina?" Somehow in the past several hours, waxing poetic in various languages while making love to her, he had nicknamed her after the Italian word for petite, and she had instantly taken a liking to it.

  She nodded. "It's perfect, tesoro." And she had nicknamed him after the Italian word for treasure, an Italian term of endearment.

  He was her treasure. That's what he would be from now until eternity claimed him.

  "Mi hai salvata," she whispered. You saved me.

  If only she knew, she was his savior as much as he was hers. Without her, he would have died within the week. He had been on the fast track to a coffin six-feet under, just as Micah had predicted. Gina had saved his life.

  "Non più di quanto tu abbia salvato me, amore mio." No more than you saved me, my love. "Piccolina mia." My petite.

  She pulled back as he turned and wrapped one arm around her. With his other hand, he caressed the backs of his fingers over her cheek. "Sei tu a tenere il mio cuore, adesso." You are the one holding my heart, now.

  She smiled up at him and kissed his fingers. "Ti amo." I love you.

  "Ti amo. Adesso andiamo a casa e perdiamoci l'uno nell'altra." I love you. Now let's go home and get lost in one another.

  She nodded once, and her cheeks flushed as she smiled and took his hand then led him inside. He still had to get his truck from where it was parked across the street from Four Alarm, but after that, he was taking Gina home, where they would stay tucked away for a few days. No one but them, lost inside each other.

  He had a lot of time to make up for.

  CHAPTER 26

  Ninety minutes after the quick and devilishly divine wake-up call in the bathroom, Lorena, Searcy, and Vaydon made their way out of the UG. They had a job to do. But first, they needed fresh blood. After their all-day sex marathon, where they had shared blood with each other but taken no new blood in, they needed to replenish themselves. A good feeding from a healthy human was like Red Bull. It gave you wings. Plus, it was always beneficial to feed before a hunt. They would be at their peak, with no risk of blood hunger to distract them from their target.

  Finding adequate donors inside Four Alarm was easy enough. A quick scout of the terrain, and the three of them stole their prey into the back alley, where they took their fill of blood, wiped the humans' memories of the encounter, and slipped away.

  Searcy and Vaydon marched along on either side of her as they exited the alley and crossed the street.

  "Take us to Gina now," Searcy said, his voice gruff, his body tight.

  "As long as she's still at Malek's house, you'll have her within the hour. My king." She shot him a pointed, come-hither glance.

  An air of entitlement and power flowed out of him, and he looked pleased by her fealty. "You'll make a fine queen, Lorena."

  "And a fine consort," Vaydon added, not to be left out.

  Searcy grinned at his son. "You have a keen eye, Vaydon."

  Lorena was about to hail a cab when Searcy pulled to an abrupt halt. "Who's truck is this?" He paced toward the black truck parked at the curb.

  Lorena hesitated, turned, and joined him. With a sniff, she picked up Malek's scent. It was stale and faded, but his aroma surrounded the driver's side door. And hidden just under the masculine undertones she had come to know during her brief interlude with him, a softer, fainter, more feminine scent lingered. Gina. No doubt, hers was what caught Searcy's attention.

  "This is Malek's truck," she said, scooting closer.

  Vaydon inspected the bed and peered inside the passenger window. "His scent is old. It's been at least twenty-four hours since he was here. Do you think he will come back for it?" He glanced down at the truck again.

  "I don't see why not." She looked from Vaydon to Searcy and back again. "He could be on his way now."

  Searcy snapped his head around to her. "Go. Now. Check his home. Vaydon and I will wait here. If he and that bitch are there, contact me. If not, come back and join us here, and we will await his arrival. If Gina isn't with him, we will follow him until he leads us to her."

  Lorena nodded briskly. "Of course." She grabbed Searcy's wrist before he could turn and head off into the shadows. "Just one thing. Do what you want to that whore, Gina, but leave Malek to me."

  The corner of Searcy's mouth crept upward, the sinister sneer one of pleasure. "Consider him yours, pretty thing. Now go." He spun away, and he and Vaydon disappeared into shadow, and then were gone, likely to high ground where they could keep watch on Malek's truck.

  Lorena ducked into an alley, willed herself into vapor, and shot to Malek's home. After appearing in the backyard, she rushed to the back door, then around to each window so she could peer inside. The house was dark and quiet. Too quiet. Even if Malek were sleeping in his basement bedroom with his darling little matey-poo, she would have felt them, heard them, smelled them on the premises.

  The house was empty.

  Low thunder rumbled in the distance as the wind picked up. Ah, yes, it was a lovely night for a storm.

  With one last glance inside another window, Lorena ducked into the cover of the trees in his expansive backyard and projected herself to the flat-topped roof of a building near Four Alarm. As soon as she spotted Searcy and Vaydon on a nearby roof, she vapor-tunneled and landed in a crouch between them.

  "They weren't there."

  "Had they been?" Searcy said.

  "No. Not recently."

  "Then perhaps they're on their way here." Vaydon stood and disappeared.

  Lorena scowled at the empty air where Vaydon had just been. "Where did he go?"

  "To scout the area. If they're coming, Vaydon will find them." Searcy crouched with one knee on the roof, the other bent and supporting his hand, as he leaned forward and pushed his fingers against the filthy surface of the building. He lifted his nose and sniffed the air, and his long, silvery-blond hair swirled like Medusa's tentacles on a gust of wind.

  Lightning flashed just as Vaydon reappeared. The wind caught his hair, as well, and it whipped over his face. The two looked like gods. Powerful warlocks ready to slay dragons.

  Lorena's blood raced, spiked with adrenaline and the lust to punish the one who had spurned her.

  Vaydon slowly dropped into a crouch beside her. "They're coming from the north."

  "How close?" Searcy regarded him as the first drops of rain began to fall.

  "Not far. A mile, maybe two."

  Two pairs of silver irises sparkled against another flash of lightning, and a violent gust of wind blasted them as the storm bore down.

  "We move. Downwind." Searcy stood and punched his pointed finger toward the east. "I don't want to take a chance they'll smell us out."

  Lorena and Vaydon stood, and the three of them leaped and projected themselves toward the east to another rooftop about a half mile away. There they would lay in wait.

  By morning, Malek's mate wo
uld be dead, and soon thereafter, so would he. Lorena's time with him had made one thing perfectly clear. He was weak. Malek had the look of a male lost to suffering. Gaunt, too thin, and unable to heal as quickly as he should, he was a male burdened with pain that bled his body and soul. Lorena had seen more male vampires than she cared to remember suffer at the hands of the mating call after the death of a mate, and Malek had the look of such a male. But that didn't make sense, given that Gina was his mate. She didn't know what had caused the suffering to take Malek, but whatever had flipped that switch in his mind had taken its toll. Malek had grown weak. So weak that he would never survive Gina's death.

  A smile crept over Lorena's face. Paybacks really were a bitch, weren't they, and she owed Malek in spades.

  * * *

  By the time the cab reached Malek's truck, the storm had hit in earnest. Brilliant lightning lit the night sky, and cracks of thunder split the air. It was the perfect night to hole up inside and go a whole lot of nowhere.

  Gina waited for him to pay the fare, and then she bolted out into the downpour behind him. The rain fell in such torrents that by the time they reached the truck, they were soaked through. The truck beeped as the alarm disengaged, and she practically leaped inside as Malek catapulted into the driver's seat.

  What a surprise to hear her own laughter, and an even bigger one to hear Malek's. Until now, she had never heard him laugh, and the sound was rich and honest, full-bodied and spirited.

  He leaned toward her, beaming, his face bright with happiness, and pulled her into a spontaneous kiss. God, she loved this side of him. So open and giving, and surprisingly young at heart.

  "You have a beautiful laugh," she said, breathless and love struck. Had it really only been a few days since she had sworn she had no interest in being his mate? Now, she couldn't imagine her life without him. Trevor had been right, and he would gloat next time she saw him.

  "So do you." He caught his breath and gazed in wonder at her.

  The way he stared at her in complete adoration made her feel like he was seeing her for the first time all over again. His gaze danced from her eyes to her mouth then up to her hair as if he couldn't believe she was actually there.