The Men of Anderas III: Talon, the Assassin

by C. J. Johnson

  Shadow was moving the last of her treasures, as she called them, to the vault but she would return soon. He had to keep this hidden. His Blue felt bad enough without knowing about this loss. That annoying voice in his head kept urging him to tell her. Maybe the shock would finally silence the brain-shattering sound of her singing. He’d go stone-cold deaf before he willingly hurt her like that.

  The twang of her ‘instrument’ told him she was sitting on the porch, probably enjoying the last rays of the sun. He wanted to join her but his fear of discovery kept him rooted to the floor. Her personality echoed through the house. It’s funny how one woman, digging through the piles of rubbish left from the destruction of an entire race of people, could bring such life to a house.

  Talon added another log on the fire pit before getting comfortable on the mattress dragged in from his room. They decided earlier that it would be warmer since everything except their wilderness bags was packed and loaded. It wouldn’t be long before winter settled in for good. Frost already covered the ground every morning. He used to love waking up to fresh snowfall. There were good memories of his childhood. He just buried them along with the horror.

  “That fire feels good tonight. The wind’s picking up and it feels like rain. As cold as it is, do you think it will be an ice storm or maybe snow?” She held her hands to the fire.

  “Too warm for an ice storm but we may have a light dusting of snow.” Shadow stood between him and the fire pit. He traced her silhouette, outlined by the blaze, remembering every soft dip and curve. She knew he only saw faint shadowy allusions of auras since the implants so she quit controlling hers. With the damage to his right eye he had that ability back and she sparkled with every color in the rainbow.

  He wanted to make love to her so bad he ached. The evidence of his desire strained against the rough fabric of his pants. Would she share his bed one last time?

  “I’m gonna take advantage of that bathtub one last time.” She stretched her arms high above her head, arching her back to loosen the kinks of a day of heavy lifting.

  Talon almost groaned aloud when her breasts pulled against the buttons of her shirt. Flipping the edge of his bag back, he patted the space beside him. “I’ll keep this spot warm for you.”

  For the space of a dozen heartbeats, she stared at him. Would she refuse? The only clue he had was the flare of bright, clear red around her head.

  “You sure you feel up for that?” She waved her hand at the wilderness bag.

  “I’m already up, Blue.” Her soft gasp was the verbal confirmation he needed. “You go enjoy your bath, baby.”

  “You could join me.” She whispered.

  He shook his head slowly. “Not this time, Shadow. I want you right here beneath me all night. I don’t plan on getting much sleep tonight.”

  “Sleep is highly overrated.”

  Talon couldn’t hold back his laughter when she practically skipped down the hall. He didn’t know where those escaped criminals stole the hover-boat but whoever owned it knew quality and appreciated ‘gadgets’. This one was equipped with an autopilot feature and a top-of-the-line sonar warning system. He’d be able to catch a nap as soon as they hit open water tomorrow. Tonight was all about Blue.

  Shadow was so glad she had heated water earlier for her bath. It was cooled enough now that she wouldn’t scald herself. As much as she wanted to crawl into bed with Talon, she had to keep her priorities straight. It was tonight or never to get him to embrace his past in a positive way. If he didn’t there was no way he’d survive after Draagon. Oh, he would still walk and talk and breathe, but there would be nothing for him to live for when Draagon was dead. She had to force him to see the difference even if he ended up hating her.

  She made herself stay in the tub for thirty minutes. Any less might make him suspicious. Wrapped in a towel, she stared at the clothes hanging from the hook in the bathroom. The soft, blue material would mold to her curves and her hair, left loose around her shoulders, added just the right touch of sexy. Would Talon like it or would he laugh at her attempt at being feminine?

  “It’s not about you so drop the insecurities and get dressed.” She scolded herself. The dress fit her surprisingly well, if a little short. Instead of brushing the tops of her feet, it stopped just above her ankles. The item hidden beneath the clothes in her bag was her hope for his future.

  Drawing a deep breath for courage, she turned off the torch and walked out of the bathroom. Damn. Was this hallway always this long? She stood in the doorway waiting for Talon to realize she was there. The butterflies currently doing battle in her stomach jacked her case of nerves to a whole new level.

  The look on his face when he spotted her would fuel her fantasies for years to come. Such heat and longing had to come from more than just lust. Did he feel more for her than a sex partner? Did she want him to feel more? She’d settle for him not hating her tomorrow.

  “Damn, Blue!” His rough voice raked across her nerve endings, sending her libido into hyper-drive. “You should wear a dress more often.” He suddenly sat straight up on his bag. “Hell no! You can’t wear something like that out in public!” His voice was cold and hard.

  The pain of his rejection was too sudden for her to mask the gasp when his words pierced her heart. Tears quickly filled her eyes and she had no defense except to turn and leave the room.

  Talon caught her before she took three steps down the hall. “What did I say to hurt you, Blue? Don’t cry, baby. Talk to me, please.”

  His arms felt so good wrapped around her, but she needed to get away so she could deal with his reaction. You knew it was a gamble. What do you know about being a woman? Especially around a man like him.

  “Let me go, Talon.” She pushed against his arms but his strength was more than enough to keep her captive.

  “Not until you tell me what happened back there. Why are you running away in tears?”

  “I’m not running away.” She argued, swiping at the tears on her face. “I’m going to change clothes then make a cup of tea.”

  “You don’t need to change clothes. I like what you’re wearing.”

  He nuzzled her neck like there was nothing at all wrong. Now she was pissed.

  “What kind of sick ass game are you playing?” She shoved an elbow into his side.

  “Me?” He released her and rubbed his ribs. “One minute I’m planning a night of seduction and the next you run crying from the room. What the hell?”

  “Seduction?” She yelled. “Here’s a flash for you, asshole. INSULTS DON’T WORK AS FOREPLAY!”

  “Insults?” His arms fell to his sides. “I didn’t….”

  “Yes, you did.” The confusion on his face calmed her anger enough that she quit yelling. “I shouldn’t be seen in public wearing a dress. Don’t worry. The dress goes in the fire pit and I can guaran-DAMN-tee I won’t ever be anything but what I am—a damn good merc.” She turned away and took another step away from Talon before he grabbed her and lifted her into his arms.

  “Put me down!” She kicked and struggled to get free.

  “Not until we get this misunderstanding straightened out. Be still before I spank that beautiful, soft ass.”

  “If you think you can talk your way into my pants….”

  “Shut up, Blue.” He growled. “The last thing on my mind right now is sex. I want to paddle your ass for expecting every mention of the word, woman, to be an insult. However, my hands on your bare ass would lead to sex. Don’t you get it, babe? Every move you make, every word from your mouth, has me thinking about sinking into some part of your luscious body.”

  He sat down on the wilderness bag and settled her on his lap.

  “If you don’t want sex why are we on your bed?” She couldn’t get the image of her draped over his lap while he slapped her ass out of her mind. That wasn’t something she’d ever thought about, but with Talon…yeah, she could do that.

  “I don’t want you dressing like that in public because I don’t want other
men seeing what’s mine. You’re a walking wet dream, Blue. The only thing I give a damn about you wearing is that damned binding crap that smashes these beauties.” He traced a finger around a nipple.

  “Oh.” She whispered. While she regretted her outburst, the history behind her reaction was valid—at least in her mind.

  “Do you still want that tea?” He whispered against her ear.

  “Yeah, I think I do.” When he shifted her off his lap and started to rise, she gripped his arm. “Let me. I need a few minutes to….”

  He just smiled and steadied her until she stepped off the wilderness bag. The water was heating on the fire, tea leaves were in the cup and she knew it was now or never for her to set her plan into play. Time for a song.

  “Kava ain’t got no tail….”

  “Blue! By all that’s holy in the universe, will you please stop with the noise?” He couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t do something drastic—like tie her up and gag her—if he had to endure another second of her singing.

  “I’ll make you a deal.” She kept her back to him so he wouldn’t suspect what was coming.

  “Anything!” He agreed without hesitation.

  “Give me your word of honor.”

  He chuckled and raised his right hand. “I give you my solemn vow that I will do whatever you ask of me to guarantee you withhold any and all musical entertainment within my hearing.”

  “Hold that thought.” She dashed to her room and pulled his vioharp from her bag. It boasted new strings thanks to an instruction sheet she found in his mother’s desk. He would have to tune it since her musical talent was obviously nonexistent. Holding it behind her back, she stood at the end of the hallway.

  “Close your eyes.” He looked confused but he did as she asked. She kneeled in front of where he sat. “I won’t sing another note or play the mouth harp—ever again—if you will play one song for me on this.”

  He opened his eyes when she laid the vioharp across his knees.

  Chapter Thirty

  Talon couldn’t speak past the massive pain squeezing his chest. Hell, he could barely breathe. His fingers traced the loose strings before moving to the tuning keys without conscious thought. Once, a lifetime ago, this instrument was his constant companion. He remembered the last time he held it under his chin and coaxed the music to life. His mother, a talented musician in her own right, said his talent would outshine hers before he finished school.

  He tried to imagine her sitting at her desk while he practiced his scales but the image instantly flashed to the central square and the brutality of her death. Shadow was wrong about him. She believed he held all the pain bottled up inside him. It wasn’t the pain that could destroy him—it was the love. Pain left a scar to remind you of what you survived. The love…especially the unquestioned, limitless love of a mother for her child…was supposed to be the glue that kept your life together. When that glue, and the stability it created, was suddenly ripped away it left a hole in your soul.

  Shadow knelt there on the floor, silently waiting for him to keep his word. There was a look of such longing in her eyes. A blind man could see the hunger. Was this all because she cared for him or was she grasping at the fragments of a family she never had for herself? He couldn’t let it matter because as soon as he found Draagon, her contract would be over and they would go their own way.

  She presented the bow with as much reverence as a queen to a knight in a child’s bedtime tale. He was honestly surprised that his hand didn’t shake when he took it from her. If he relaxed for an instant he’d shake apart. If that happened he didn’t know if he’d ever pull himself together.

  You can do this for her. When she sees that nothing changes, we can get back to the way we were earlier. You gave your word and you’ve never gone back on that word—not even at your drunkest.

  Talon fit the vioharp beneath his chin, closed his eyes, and drew the bow across the strings. He had to make a couple of adjustments to get the correct sound before fitting it back beneath his chin. This time, when the bow stroked the strings, the sound was clear and rich. He closed his eyes again, drew a deep breath, and cleared his mind of everything but the music. After a few chords to familiarize himself with where to place his fingers, he started playing a simple child’s tune. It was short but would fulfill his promise.

  Shadow allowed her shoulders to relax once Talon accepted the bow from her. She pushed him to give her his vow because she knew his sense of honor wouldn’t allow him to back down despite his reluctance. He definitely didn’t want to do this, but he would. His reasons for continuing weren’t as important as the fact that he was playing.

  The inhabitants of Cypriana would never believe their resident conman knew what music was much less handle the instrument with such delicate control. She expected him to play something as short as her kava song. When the music faded she reached for the vioharp. She would put it in the vault on their way to the hover-boat in the morning.

  Instead of stopping, the music blended seamlessly into a light, happy number that sounded like another childhood favorite. His mother wrote in her diary that his talent would surpass hers. She expected him to perform in major cities around the galaxy. Kings and heads of state would jockey for a spot in his tour schedule. Shadow thought they were the words of a doting mother but the longer he played the more she saw the truth.

  As one melody merged with the next she was drawn into the magic he created. She held perfectly still, afraid the slightest movement or whisper of sound would destroy the moment. His musical selections suddenly changed. The notes became harsh and discordant. This music felt like panic and fear.

  Shadow pulled her gaze away from Talon’s hands and focused on his face. His face mirrored the music! He wasn’t playing music he had learned as a child! He was composing as he played and every single moment of Draagon’s slaughter of his clan was trapped in the notes he created! Was he aware of what he played?

  She couldn’t look away from his face. The man sitting cross-legged on a wilderness bag wasn’t the one playing the vioharp. This performance was given by the twelve-year-old boy forced to grow up too fast. Tears flowed down her cheeks at the pain of loss and loneliness that would cripple most men. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and tell him…what? That it would get better? That time would heal and it wouldn’t always hurt like this? Useless platitudes uttered by strangers as talismans against the knowledge that it could be them the next time.

  The music changed again. The haunting strains of total, heartbreaking isolation faded to near silence before slowly building in strength to a hard, steady tempo—relentless and unchanging. This was his commitment to his family—to his clan. It wouldn’t change until Draagon paid for his crimes.

  Shadow shifted positions, ready to take the vioharp from him and pack it away in the case waiting in her room. The music changed again and she froze. This new sound wrapped around her, touching her like a tender lover. It spoke to her. Cherished her. One glance at Talon confirmed he was still held captive by the music. He was no more aware of what he was playing than he was the color of the curtains covering the window. Did he feel more than gratitude for her? She only admitted her love in her head—never spoken aloud. This glimpse felt like a violation. It was almost a rape of his soul. She didn’t want to hear this. She didn’t want to deal with this. By all the stars in the universe, the possibility both thrilled and frightened her. Their mutual salvation was in the fact that he was unaware of what he revealed in his music. The beautiful sound slowly faded and Talon lowered the vioharp. She held her breath waiting for…something…a clue to his reaction to the past hour, maybe?

  He looked up and straight at her. She gasped at what she saw in his eyes. He knew exactly what the music described!

  “Be careful what you ask for, Blue,” he whispered, softly. “I’ve only ever hated one person in my entire life. Until tonight. What was this little game of yours supposed to accomplish?”

  Talon stood and walked to the fire p
it. Without warning, he smashed the vioharp against the stones and dropped the shattered pieces into the fire. “I’m going to sleep on the hover-boat tonight. If you’re not there by first light, I’ll leave you on this island you love so much. Do you want my word of honor, again?” He rolled his wilderness bag and shoved it into his pack along with his personal items. He turned at the door and pinned her in place with all the hurt and fury and regret in his gaze. “I asked you to drop it, Blue. There’s not a moment in time when I forget about any of it. I memorized every word in her diary before I ever left here. All you did with your deliberate disregard for my privacy was destroy something that might have grown between us.”

  Shadow stared at the closed door long after Talon left. The dropping temperature forced her to seek the warmth of her wilderness bag where she buried her face in her pillow to muffle the sounds of her heartbreak. She cried for what might have been. Her heart was shattered and she had no one to blame but herself. It was supposed to make him…it no longer mattered what it was supposed to do. What it did was cost her the chance of a future with Talon.

  By the time she ran out of tears, it was too close to sunrise to risk falling asleep. She had no doubt he would do exactly what he said and leave her here. She changed into the durable clothes she wore on assignment and shoved the blue dress to the bottom of her bag. In the long, lonely years ahead of her, she would pull it out and remember the night when a special man thought she was beautiful. When he told her with soft music that he cared.

  With a final check of the house, she gathered her equipment and headed out. The sooner they reached the mainland, the sooner Talon would deal with Draagon and she could get on with her life.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Talon made good time back to the mainland. The mountains were visible on the horizon and they would dock before nightfall. Conversation consisted of single word responses unless it pertained to keeping the hover-boat skimming along. She didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling. He was in full ‘bounty hunter’ mode so his voice and expressions created an emotionless mask that she couldn’t penetrate.