A Killing Moon

by Alexis D Craig

  She’d seen him pull wings off butterflies when they were kids too, but she didn’t want to go there just yet, because the confidence in his voice chilled her to her core. “I’ve seen what he wants us to see. What is most beneficial to him that we see. Nothing about your brother is what it seems.”

  “What is it you think I should be seeing?” he sneered.

  “Brendan is the crown prince of Therantia, and there are many people who fancy being in his good graces. For every misstep, mistake, and transgression, there’s a favor given, a sin overlooked, an absolution unearned but granted anyway. He’s in deep to too many people. Too many people whose agendas run contrary to the well-being of the kingdom. It’s too dangerous for him to become the king.”

  The longer she spoke, the golder his gaze, the firmer his jaw set, until his cheek ticked, and his every breath was just south of a growl. “And me? Where does killing me fit into all this?”

  Cora met his steady gaze with one of her own. His understanding here was absolutely essential to making this job work. “Your death is a safety net. A stopgap against his own assassination or deposition. You are, in short, a threat to his potential reign. Especially since you lack all the baggage that is part and parcel to your brother’s being. You’re the better choice, honestly, and he wants to eliminate you before someone who can do something about it acknowledges it. I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “You still haven’t shown me proof,” he demanded as he folded his long limbs to sit across from her on the couch.

  “And here, I would have thought the drive-by shooting would have made that self-evident,” she noted dryly, pouring some whiskey in a chunky crystal tumbler and handing it to him.

  Finn took the glass from her with a sniff and watched her over the lip carefully as he sipped. “It’s hard to take the word of someone who slept with me for a paycheck. Who’s to say you aren’t paid to lie to me as well?”

  Cora stiffened at the insinuation, using all her inner poise to refrain from answering his little dig with a gouge of her own. She’d taken a risk by giving in to her attraction to him, and this was the price she would pay. Throwing the rest of her drink back and slamming the glass down on the table, she rose to her feet and looked him in the eye. “I’m not a whore, and you will not call me one again.”

  Grabbing her belongings, she stomped into the bathroom and quickly donned her nightclothes. She didn’t normally wear them, but since she was on the job, she figured black leggings and an oversized Eagles jersey were preferable to naked. Not to mention easier to hide armaments on her. Leaving in the middle of a dispute with a client wasn’t exactly the most professional of moves, but she figured she could be forgiven considering the completely messed up start to her night that didn’t seem to be getting any better. By the time she returned, he’d refilled her glass and left it sitting on a coaster in front of where she’d been seated.

  “So you slept with me because you wanted to.”

  “Still on that, huh?” She couldn’t help the bored tone in her voice as she twisted her hair up for the night. This was a fight they would be having for a long time and if he didn’t believe her now, nothing she said was going to change it in this moment.

  His bright blue eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms, showing off muscles that were absolutely cruel in their perfection. So rude. “Considering no one was shooting at me until after we slept together, maybe they weren’t gunning for me. You have any angry exes or anything like that?”

  As ‘gotcha’ moments went, this was a bit lifeless, but it was late, and she clearly wasn’t successful in challenging his overall state of denial tonight. Folding her leg under her, she curled up in the corner of the couch with her drink. “Not any that know about that particular safe house, no.”

  Finn’s unfairly perfect lips frowned as he stroked his beard. “We fucked around in your safe house?”

  Seeing no point in lying, she hitched up her shirt where it sagged over her shoulder and nodded. “Not quite, but that’s the gist. Yes.”

  “For your job,” he clarified after another sip.

  Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “The job is separate.”

  Nodding, eyes focused on the middle distance between them, he worried his upper lip with his teeth. “Would you have slept with me otherwise? Approached me? Anything?"

  Cora glared at her charge. What the hell kind of question is that? She’d wanted to approach him since she was old enough to know what that was, but as far as seeking him out for that purpose? “No.” Their lives were at the same time too disparate and yet too intermingled to allow for the luxury of romantic discovery. Honestly, she’d taken the opportunity tonight because of an impulse, a desire that stretched back years, and one she was surely regretting as the night progressed.

  Ticking them off on his fingers, he enumerated her transgressions. “So you manipulated me, ruthlessly slept with me, on the orders of someone but you don’t know who. Why the hell should I believe what you're saying about my brother?"

  Growling in frustration, she held up a finger. “It was a blowjob. And I didn’t sleep with you because of the job I was hired to do.” Why she needed him to understand that in that moment was a mystery, but she did not plan to relinquish her certitude any time soon.

  “So then why did you?”

  “I’ve been asking myself that all fucking night.” Yes, it was mean, yes, it was petty, but damn if the look of affronted shock on his face wasn’t a little bit worth it. “Look, it’s late. We’ve both had a very traumatic day and could probably do with some sleep.”

  He looked like he might protest but then his whole body was overtaken by a massive yawn that rolled through him starting at his toes and ending with his arms stretched over his head. “Sounds good. I’ll take the couch and you can have my bed.”

  Cora shook her head as she stood up from the couch and stretched. “No dice. I’m on the couch as a first line of defense. You sleep in your bed, and in the morning, I’ll call my handler and get someone else assigned to you.” She had no idea if such a thing were even possible but made the offer as a kind of olive branch between them.

  His lips curled into a sad, sleepy smile as he headed into the bathroom. “Whatever floats your boat.”

  It was as she collected a pillow and blanket from his bed that a terrible thought occurred to her. “You don’t have…” she frowned as she searched for the word. “A valet, right? Someone who comes in the morning to pick out your clothes?”

  “This isn’t a Disney movie,” Finn called from the bathroom, sounding like he was talking around his toothbrush before he swore over some running water. He emerged a moment later in a pair of comfortably loose blue plaid pants and nothing else, flawlessly beautiful chest on display all the way down to his v-line. “I don’t have anyone who dresses me. The only person I see in the morning is the member of the kitchen staff who drops off my breakfast.”

  “And is me bunking on the couch the kind of thing they’d notice? Maybe talk about later?”

  Finn’s eyes narrowed as she spoke. “You angling to share my bed?”

  “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m asking questions because I’m concerned about your safety. Besides, even if I did sleep in your bed, it would take me and a search party three days to make it over to your side. I promise I won’t sully your virtue further.”

  His lips twitched as he blinked slowly at her, climbing into the bed on the far side. “Whatever, asshole.”

  “Fuck you, too, then.” This was not how she intended to go to bed with Finn, back to back with miles of mattress and unreasonably soft sheets between them, but he was safe, so she’d done her job for the moment and everything else could wait until the morning.

  Chapter Four

  FINN

  He’d been sleeping by himself since childhood, and as much as he’d made a point of sticking to one side of the bed for Cora’s sake, somehow his sleeping-self missed the memo. Starfished across the center of the bed, he
woke to an unfamiliar weight on his shoulder and a strange warmth against his side. It took a second to orient himself to the situation, Cora’s head cushioned on the junction of his shoulder and bicep, though in fairness he did steal her pillow at some point, and the way she was curled against him kept her facing the door, a physical barrier between him and anyone who meant him harm. His hand spread out on her stomach was just a happy accident.

  It was a lot to take in, her accusations against his brother, but it was hard to argue against a drive-by shooting. He was surprised Vasi hadn’t spent the night in the room with them, but in the years he’d known the man, he was many things but not a cockblock if he could help it. Not that there was any danger of that happening.

  Fuck, the night had gone to pieces in front of him. It had been going so well, from his sneaking out and meeting a beautiful woman, to getting hot and heavy in her living room. Well, the living room of her safe house. Holy fuck how had this situation gone so far off the rails?

  He’d been taken in by her wicked smile, lethally dangerous curves, and the air of mischief and fun that floated around her like her cock-stiffening perfume. She was a succubus, he mused with a soft grin dancing at the corners of his lips, in the form of a Corvid who could beguile a saint. And, as he drew the back of a finger slowly down her silken cheek, he knew he was not a saint. She was just so damn tempting, in a way that the usual socialites and dignitaries his family lined up for him just… weren’t. In a word, she was unexpected.

  Much like Cora going from a dead sleep to sitting straight up with a gun in her hand trained on the door and her other hand plastered to his chest holding him down flat in the bed behind her was unexpected. He had a second to process the slow motion train wreck of the soft knock, followed by the click of his bedroom door and the bleating scream of the kitchen steward rolling breakfast into the room who definitely hadn’t signed up for a Glock to the face before everything snapped into fast forward.

  “Christ, Cora!”

  Finn was up and between the two of them immediately, arms out like he could truly prevent a catastrophe naked but for his boxer briefs because apparently, he’d kicked off his pajamas sometime overnight. On the one hand was a gentle young Hircine kid named Francis who was working to pay for school who looked like he was a good deep breath away from passing out with his hands to Jesus and doing his best to cower behind the food cart and silver domed trays of food.

  For her part, Cora had her implacable golden eyes trained on the young man in the white coat and her aim didn’t waver except to adjust for Finn’s sudden insertion into the scene. There was no doubt in his mind that she could shoot the poor kid without even ruffling his hair. The way she cocked her head to the side, never blinking, was spooky as hell and in as much as he appreciated her devotion to the cause, bumping off the kitchen staff was going a bit far.

  “Francis,” he called, his eyes never leaving his bedmate.

  “Highness?” The high-pitched, reedy voice was surprisingly steady considering the stench of sheer terror overtaking the room.

  “Back out of the room, go down to the kitchen, take a break, then resume your duties. We’ll speak later.” He was answered by the door opening and closing, and only then did he look back at the door. Bringing the cart into the room and parking it next to the bed, he wilted as he sat beside her. “You can put the gun down, we’re all alone.”

  Her response was a hum of disinterest as she lifted the tablecloth to examine the rest of the cart before slipping her weapon back in its holster behind the headboard. How she’d even managed to plant it there was a question he was pretty sure he didn’t want an answer to, but it was marginally comforting to know that she was prepared to fight for his well-being if it came down to it.

  Watching her closely as she gracefully rose from the bed and threw open one of the windows, Finn removed the domes from the plates of bacon and eggs, sliced fruits, and cottage cheese, and began organizing their meal for her return. She looked so temptingly soft in the morning, in her leggings and jersey that gapped to reveal the sharp edge of her shoulder blade, and the way she moved… it was delicate, deliberate, it reminded him of one of his mother’s porcelain ballerinas.

  “So… that’s a thing that happened.” Finn’s tone was remarkably light considering.

  Cora’s gaze, now returned to their normally dark state, slipped over him on him like a shroud as she sat next to him and poured some coffee.

  Sipping primly from a delicate bone china coffee cup, pinky out unobtrusively, she wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t wake up well.”

  Hot coffee threatened to lurch into his sinuses as he snorted. “Couldn’t tell.”

  Buttering a triangle of toast, she was the picture of understated elegance in the early morning light. The barest hints of sunlight caressed her cocoa skin, giving it the appearance of fine velvet, and damn if he didn’t want to touch.

  “I might still be a little jumpy after last night.”

  “You’re lucky he’s not a fainting goat.”

  “I’m not sorry.” The twitch of her lips may have been a smile, but she covered it by biting a piece of apple.

  Finn hummed in chagrined humor and scratched the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t expect you to be.” The eggs were perfect as always, over medium with yolks just runny enough to merit dipping toasts in them. He poked the golden dome and watched its contents bleed onto the plate before picking up his toast triangle. “Vasily’s gonna have a fit. He takes traumatizing the staff very seriously.”

  Cora’s annoyed grunt came with a darkly self-satisfied smirk. “He’s the one that didn’t search me before leaving me in your room.”

  “You’d have taken his hand off if he tried.” Pride and amusement warred in his voice, even if he did his best for his face to show disapproval. “So what are you gonna do about Brendan?”

  “I have my people running down every lead we can. Known associates, financials, some kind of leverage to convince him to leave on his own. If that doesn’t work, then we’ll go public and let the chips fall where they may, legally. Maybe with a little help, but still.”

  “And me? Where do I fit into all this?”

  “My job is to keep you alive and safe while we do all that.” She took a drink of her coffee and dropped in another sugar cube. “Normally I’m all about staying in the background and running this kind of thing from behind the scenes. This time, it just so happens I have to be a little more hands on.”

  “‘A little’?” he scoffed, shaking his head. “So much for staying low key so the servants don’t talk.”

  The way her shoulders bunched up as she cringed made him chuckle. “Yeah… pretty sure that ship has sailed.” She pulled herself back to her full height, and sniffed daintily, then drained her coffee cup and poured some more immediately. “The striped boxers were a nice touch.”

  Finn barely got the napkin to his mouth before spitting out his food with snickers. “Yeah, you didn’t leave me a whole lot of options.”

  “Should I be pissed? I mean, I seem to recall you going to bed with pants on.”

  Rolling his eyes, he sprinkled pepper on his bowl of cottage cheese. “And you were unarmed, so let’s call it even, shall we?” When he went to spoon some into his mouth, Cora’s hand shot out and seized his wrist. “What the hell?”

  “Don’t eat that.” The humor was gone from her expression, her eyes now vibrantly gold and fingers shifted completely into talons.

  “Coretta, what’s wrong?” he asked cautiously, lowering the spoon back into the bowl and never taking his eyes from her. She cocked her head, looking from him to his plate. “Did you want some?”

  “No, don’t eat that,” she repeated, her voice now gruff as her hold on her shift slipped. “It’s poisoned.”

  Finn pushed the cart away immediately, now completely focused on her. “What? Why? How? How can you tell?”

  After releasing his hand, she shivered, her shift immediately receding back into her as she took the bo
ne white saucer from her coffee cup and dumped some pepper into it, bringing it to eye level. “Looks wrong.”

  He unclenched immediately then, rolling his eyes at her theatrics. Nothing about this breakfast smelled like anything other than eggs and toast. He was a Lupine, dammit, and he’s pretty sure he would have noticed anything amiss. “Really? Looks fine to me.”

  “You don’t wanna eat this.” A hand up as if to stop him from talking, she went to her luggage and began to root around again, eventually coming up with a magnifying glass. After spreading the pepper out on the plate with a fingernail, she examined the flakes until she thrust the plate and magnifying glass into his hands. “Look.”

  Not sure what she was on about, he humored her and gazed at the tiny flakes of cracked black pepper. He was pretty sure there weren’t supposed to be shiny bits in there. Lots of unusually shiny bits. “How did you even see that?”

  Cora blinked at him slowly. “I’m a Corvid. Built-in ‘shiny shit’ detector.”

  Finn coughed to cover the chuff of laughter at her statement. “I guess.” Even looking murderously serious, she could joke. It was an interesting juxtaposition. “So what the fuck am I looking at, exactly?”

  She shook her head, taking the plate from him and covering their breakfast with the domes. “No idea. I need to make a phone call.”

  Cora was all business again, a snarlingly terse conversation with the phone wedged between her shoulder and jaw as she gathered her things and went into the bathroom to dress. When she emerged, she was no longer the sexy, sleepy nymph with questionable taste in football teams, but the well-dressed and pressed socialite with her blood-red turtleneck, houndstooth skirt, oxblood boots and matching lipstick. She looked alluring and dangerous and the urges to whimper and submit were difficult to ignore.