Assassin's Prey (Assassins Book 3)

by Ella Sheridan

  In the bedroom Abby flicked on the bedside lamp, the soft glow warm on her skin. “At least this place has a decent bed,” she said, her smile small. She had a point. Safe houses weren’t made for comfort, something she’d experienced more than once.

  I ripped the dangling bow tie away from my collar and dropped it to the floor beside my tux jacket, wondering if I could get away with burning the damn thing. “If you’re uncomfortable, princess,” I teased, “let me know. I’ll fix it for you.”

  I was only half joking.

  “Riiight.” Deep green silk slid down her body. She was left bare from the waist up, a nude lace garter belt gracing her hips, the long straps clipped to creamy thigh-high hose. Tired as I was, my cock stirred.

  Abby noticed the look in my eyes and laughed. “Keep the beast locked up. I’m way too tired for any of that.”

  I held back a smile as I stalked toward her, Abby retreating until her back hit the wall. Her hand came up to land on my bare chest where my shirt gaped open, but not to push me away. No, she settled it above my heart, absorbing the thump of it beating.

  “I love you, Levi,” she said. Simply. Quietly.

  I went weak in the knees. Only planting my fists into the wall as I leaned over her kept me upright. “I love you, too,” I said against her mouth.

  A sweet, tired kiss was her reply; then she pushed me away. “Go get ready for bed, sexy.”

  I was smiling like a fool as I turned toward the bathroom.

  Thoughts of giving Abby a foot rub, easing the ache from those far-too-tempting heels she’d worn all evening, maybe extending the massage up her perfect legs to places far more intimate, filled my brain when I walked back into the bedroom—and found Abby fast asleep on top of the covers, one small hand tucked beneath her cheek.

  I stopped to stare, to absorb the moment—a moment most men would take for granted, possibly even get angry over. My woman was too tired for sex; how “real life” was that? What would it be like to have Abby asleep in our bed, exhausted from a day of caring for a child? Or desperate for sleep after the restless nights that came with pregnancy?

  Less than half a year ago, I couldn’t have imagined the desperate longing that filled my chest in that moment. Couldn’t imagine a life where a wife was possible, much less a child. And now…

  Abby had asked how revealing my identity would affect my life, my brothers’ lives. I still didn’t know. Even with my parents’ money, I couldn’t imagine not working, not making the world more just, one kill at a time. But maybe—

  A buzz caught my attention. At first I couldn’t place it, staring around the room before I scrambled toward the tuxedo jacket I’d dropped on the floor with so little consideration. In the outer pocket, a slim phone, barely thicker than a credit card, waited, screen lit up. Unknown Caller, it said. I tapped to accept the call.

  Silence on the other end.

  “Who is this?” I demanded. Not how did you get this phone in my jacket? I’d settled it on the back of my chair during dinner. Opportunity—and my enemies had taken it.

  I stared down at Abby, sound asleep, and barely held back a growl. “Who. Is this?”

  “Agozi, I’m glad you found my little gift.”

  Fuck all. Redding.

  Chapter Twenty

  “He wants you to what?”

  I glared Remi down. “Shut the fuck up. I don’t want Abby hearing you.”

  “You’re going to hide this from her?” Eli asked. “Not a good idea, bro.”

  Probably not, but it was the only way I could do what I had to. If, in the back of my mind, all I could focus on was her worrying, I’d be too divided to stay safe. Redding would have a foothold, and I couldn’t allow him one.

  “Just get everything ready,” I snapped.

  “And what about Abby?” Remi nodded at the phone in my hand. “I can guarantee he tracked that here. She’s not safe.”

  “We’ll get her out before we hit the meet up.”

  “Get her where?” Remi growled. “Because if you think you’re walking into that mansion without both of us covering you, you’re fucking insane.”

  I wasn’t insane, nor was I stupid. “We’ll take her to Mrs. Sanderson’s. She’ll be safe there for a couple of hours.”

  “Levi…” Remi shook his head like I definitely wasn’t as bright as he’d thought. “If they know we’re connected enough to throw Molotov cocktails through her windows, they know everything about her life. Including her visits to Geneva Sanderson.”

  “They set her house on fire because we were with her.” I scrubbed a hand over my face, dug into my tired eyes. I had been up all night trying to figure out a plan. The only thing I knew was that a meeting with the enemy would happen one way or the other. It was better for it to happen when we could strategize ahead of time. “Besides, they’ll be concentrating on the mansion. I’m a far bigger threat than Abby will ever be.”

  She was just collateral damage. Or would be if I didn’t stop this fucker in his tracks. The mansion was practically a compound now with Rathlin’s army there, and they wouldn’t let me inside if I was armed. But meeting with Redding, discovering what his plan was, evaluating his defenses up close was worth the risk. My brothers stationed outside with sniper rifles would keep things even any day.

  Remi waited a moment, weighing the odds just like I had. Just like I’d taught him to do. When his shoulders slumped, I knew he’d come to the same conclusion. He gave me a reluctant nod. “We’ll get ready.”

  I jerked my chin in gratitude, not that I’d had any doubts. They would always have my back, even if there was no chance of winning.

  When I turned to face the bedroom door, I sucked in a sharp, deep breath and pushed away the long night, the decisions, the killing instinct that had risen at the sound of Redding’s voice invading the sanctity of my and Abby’s most intimate space. The instinct that hadn’t quite faded. I’d never gone into a fight worried I wouldn’t come out alive, not since my brothers had gotten old enough to survive without my protection. That was one thing that made me so good at what I did—lack of fear. If you weren’t afraid of dying, you wouldn’t hesitate. But knowing Abby was waiting on the other side… Hell if it didn’t make me worry. Not because she couldn’t survive on her own; the problem was, I didn’t want her to. Ever.

  That fear was dangerous. It got you killed. I needed to be stone-cold when I walked into that mansion, the killer the only part of me that was aware. For the first time ever, I doubted I could do that.

  The bed was empty when I entered, but the sound of the shower behind the closed bathroom door told me exactly where to go. I left a trail of clothes in my wake as I followed the call.

  Steam shrouded the bathroom. Through the glass shower door, I savored the mottled view of her body stretched beneath the spray, hands sifting through the burgundy strands of her wet hair as soap slid from the mass to trace the graceful lines of her back, ass, legs. Fucking A, she made me hard. Hungry. I wasn’t a sentimental man—before Abby, I would’ve argued that I had no emotions. But deep inside where no one could see, there was a lockbox full of memories just like this one. Moments that proved to me that life could still be good, could still be worth living. Worth fighting for.

  The animal part of me raised its head, staring at its mate. Wanting to wade into battle soaked in her scent.

  The man wanted the same.

  “Are you going to stand there staring or come in here with me?” Abby asked. She was leaning close to the glass, her palm resting against it at just the right angle to obscure my view of her breast. A hint of a smile peeped at me through the mist.

  Hunger clogged my throat. “I’m definitely coming in, little bird,” I growled. In more ways than one.

  The door to the shower clicked open.

  Abby slid back in the narrow tub as I stepped inside and closed the door behind me. The spray hit the back of her head, and then she was beyond it, the trail of water as much of a barrier to my sight as the glass had been. U
nacceptable. I reached up and pushed the showerhead to one side, removing the obstacle between me and what I wanted.

  Abby’s eyes darkened as they trailed along my raised bicep, the thick muscles of my chest. “You’ve been up awhile.”

  I glanced down at the tightening length between my thighs, then arched a brow. “Since the minute I heard you move.”

  She blushed. The pink wave moved from cheeks to neck to just above the smooth mounds of her breasts like it was directing my attention where it wanted me to go, and I was happy to comply. Moving in, I grasped Abby by her arms and dragged her around, switching our places, putting her back to my front. My cock went from tight to rock-hard as it slid along the crack of her ass.

  Abby moaned. Her head tipped back to rest in the hollow under my collarbone, exposing the frantic beat of her heart in her throat. I couldn’t resist. When my teeth gripped her skin and my tongue stroked with languid pleasure, she went to her tiptoes to give me more.

  Fuck, the view down her body. A year and a half after our first night together, it still took me by surprise how beautiful she was. It shook me down to my marrow. I took advantage of the water coating her skin to slide my hands around her narrow waist, up her rib cage to cup the full weight of her breasts in my palms. A perfect fit.

  Her breath hitched. So did mine.

  Abby had mouthwatering strawberry-pink nipples that got tighter every time I touched them. Taking both between thumbs and forefingers, I rolled them delicately.

  She whimpered.

  I pinched.

  “Levi!”

  I was a dying man sucking back air, desperate to keep control. “Put your hands on the wall for me.”

  Abby tried to step forward, but I dropped a hand to her hip to keep her in place. “From here, little bird,” I said, the words ragged.

  She leaned forward slowly, bending from the waist to stretch out, back flat. Her palms hit the tile in front of her. The angle dragged her cream-coated slit along my cock, and when I dipped my hips, I slid right to her opening—and inside.

  Abby squeaked. “Not quite…ready…”

  My chuckle was strained. “Don’t worry; I’ll take care of that.” Her grip on my cock was so tight I thought I would choke. Holding myself deep inside, I reached for her dangling breasts. Abby had the most sensitive breasts—a few minutes sucking them, playing with them, and she could come with a mere breath on her clit. I used that knowledge ruthlessly now, pinching and pulling, twisting, scraping my palms over the tight nubs, massaging the full globes. Abby panted and squirmed, her cream flooding my cock over and over until I thought I’d go insane if I had to hold still a moment longer.

  But I waited, pressed as hard and deep as I could inside her, until with a sharp cry she spasmed around my erection.

  Harsh breathing filled the tiny bathtub. “Oh God.”

  “You’re not done,” I warned her. I wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

  She whined when I dropped to my knees, but a firm slap on one tender ass cheek kept her in place. A moan escaped—from her, from me—when my tongue speared inside her. I lapped up the cream that waited for me there, sought out every drop as deep as I could delve, savoring the tang of her pleasure in my mouth. I licked her folds, drew them in. Sucked gently until Abby was rocking back toward me, tipping her hips in a desperate attempt to get her clit between my lips.

  It wasn’t my lips that I gave her. When the edges of my teeth grabbed her sensitive nub, she gasped. My name echoed off the shower walls in a shrill cry when I shook my head, scraping her clit roughly.

  Tearing myself away was like tearing out my heart, but I needed her face-to-face, needed to stare deep into her eyes as I fucked her as hard as I could. In seconds I had Abby out of the shower and lifted onto the long counter next to the sink. She spread her legs wide immediately, expression as desperate as if she’d never come, and I slammed myself deep inside with a hard, harsh groan.

  “Abby, Abby, Abby…” I chanted her name to the rhythm of my hips, lost in the pleasure of her core gloving me, her cervix tapping the tip of my cock, the slapping of my balls against her. Abby reached for my ass, and her nails dug in deep, pulled me hard against her. No, forced me. Begging me to fill her. The hard tips of her breasts scrubbed my chest, and I ducked my head to draw one into my mouth, smashing her nipple between my tongue and palate and sucking with desperate hunger—

  And just like that, she went off again, clutching and crying and squeezing my cock until a surge shot down my spine and I shot my load at the mouth of her womb, marking her as deeply as she’d marked me. So deep it touched my soul.

  I’ll be back for you, little bird. Nothing can keep me away. Nothing.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The hurt in Abby’s eyes when I left her at Mrs. Sanderson’s tiny duplex haunted me as I drove out of town. I had refused to explain where we were going, just told her not to worry.

  Eli was right. That plan had backfired big-time. But I’d have to deal with that when I returned.

  Five miles out from the mansion, I pulled over to drop off Remi and Eli. They would hoof it the rest of the way, coming in from the east and west to set sniper positions we’d already selected—Eli at the tree house, Remi in a grove of trees on a rise opposite Eli’s perch.

  “They’ll be expecting you,” I warned them. Rathlin was no idiot.

  “They’ll be expecting something,” Remi agreed. “Not us.”

  “They still haven’t found the camera I planted,” Eli said. “They won’t be finding us.”

  “Just don’t get cocky.” I put extra bite into the command. The last time I brought them into danger, Remi had almost died. Since then I’d kept them well out of range. They weren’t walking into the mansion with me, but Rathlin would step up patrols in the woods. I knew because it was exactly what I would do.

  The humor dropped from Eli’s face, and I saw my warrior side reflected in his light eyes. “We’ve got your back, Levi. Promise.”

  And we kept our promises. “You better.”

  “Let’s go,” Remi said and slammed the door shut.

  I watched them jog into the nearby woods and disappear. An hour later I drove onto my parents’ property. There were fifteen or twenty men waiting along the front drive, all fully armed. When I parked the car, it was Rathlin who came to my door.

  “The mighty Assassin.” His grin had an edge. “I never thought I’d see you face-to-face. Wish it was under better circumstances.”

  No, he didn’t. I lifted my sunglasses, smirking when I saw his muscles go tight. A healthy caution was necessary in our business, even when you thought you had the upper hand. Rathlin was cocky, but he wasn’t a dummy, just like I’d told my brothers. “Let’s get this over with,” I said, settling the glasses atop my head. I held out my arms.

  Rathlin nodded at two of his men. They started the pat down at my boots, only hesitating when they reached the Kevlar vest covering my chest.

  Rathlin raised a brow. “You know that has to come off.”

  “Fine.” I turned to the still-open door of my car and moved to get in.

  Rathlin held up a hand. “A vest isn’t going to do you any good, man.”

  This time I was the one who raised a brow. “I know. You could aim for my head anytime. So why fight over the vest?”

  He firmed his lips, obviously considering the argument—and maybe how badly his boss wanted me inside. “Fine. Loosen the straps and let my guys check under it.”

  He was thorough, I had to give him that. I left my keys in my car and followed him up the front steps when his men were finished. That was the only crack in my warrior cool, the moment I came face-to-face with that door. Remembering the last time we’d walked through it as a family, almost twenty years ago. And then I tucked the memory away, along with any emotion I dared to feel, and walked inside.

  Rathlin made a beeline for the stairs. He hadn’t even realized I’d stopped until one of his men called his name.

  “Redding is up
stairs,” he said.

  “I’m sure he is. Call him down.”

  Rathlin frowned. “Those aren’t my orders.”

  “Gentlemen, tell your fearless leader why he shouldn’t try to force me away from the wide-open first floor,” I suggested.

  A collective, somewhat smothered gasp echoed in the room as a tiny red dot appeared between Rathlin’s eyes. He couldn’t see it himself, but he didn’t seem surprised when one of the goons who’d fondled my balls outside told him about it. I shook my head. “You know my reputation. What the fuck got you thinking I wouldn’t know my enemy?” I jerked my chin toward the ceiling. “Call him down.”

  He did. I took the opportunity to walk toward the seating area in one corner of the large room, flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows. Rathlin frowned but didn’t bother protesting.

  Redding did. Obviously furious as he jogged down the stairs, he made his feelings even more plain with muttered curses as he crossed the living room. I didn’t bother hiding my satisfaction.

  Redding narrowed his eyes on me as Rathlin’s men spread out, their backs to the windows like a living screen. I sincerely doubted that they were prepared to give their lives for Warren Redding, but I kept silent until the man stood in front of me.

  “Didn’t think we’d meet again so soon, did you?” the older man asked. “If you think you have any control over the situation, think again.”

  I let my gaze drift to the stairs and back. An ugly red flush crept up Redding’s cheeks.

  “One sniper doesn’t give you the upper hand,” Rathlin pointed out. He stood, legs spread, arms relaxed at his sides. He knew how this was going to play out, even if Redding didn’t.

  “No.” I settled into a straight chair facing the couch and casually crossed one leg over the other. “It doesn’t.”

  Immediately four red dots appeared, scattered across Redding’s chest and face. The ring of men had no chance of covering every portion of the windows. And even if they had, well, I wasn’t afraid to make a hole if I needed one.