by Montana Ash
“No,” came the prompt reply.
Brax raised his eyebrows, “Just no?”
“Would fuck no work better?” The smile that lit Sabre’s face this time was full of sarcasm and challenge – but no less appealing.
Brax sighed and shook his head, asking without thinking; “Why do you make me feel so good?” The startled look on Sabre’s face would have matched his own had he not quickly regained control of his motor functions.
What the hell?! He thought, silently. Why was he admitting such things out loud? Why was he even feeling such things? He hadn’t even seen Sabre since that day in the gardens at the palace but his physical attraction to her certainly hadn’t waned. And thanks to his daily phone calls, he was quickly coming to the realisation that he found Sabre’s personality just as appealing as her tits. And shit – now he was thinking of Sabre’s tits. Clearing his throat and keeping his eyes locked on hers, he simply waited.
It took mere seconds for Sabre to regain her own equilibrium and she responded with her usual offhanded sarcasm; “Huh, usually the only time I make someone feel good is when I deliver the final blow to their brain stems. You know – put them out of their misery.”
“Uh huh, sure. Big, bad, scary assassin. I get it,” Brax acknowledged.
“I am scary,” Sabre stated. “Grown men piss their pants when they see me.”
“Kinky,” Brax waggled his eyebrows at the fallen angel in front of him, wondering for the umpteenth time how she seemed to bring out the playful side of him. Nobody had been able to do that since his brothers had died. He and his brothers had always been close, despite the complete dichotomies of their natures. Mikhail, as future King, had been the most serious of the bunch. And Z as the baby with the least responsibilities, had been the most spoiled and easy-going. Brax liked to believe he didn’t suffer from ‘middle child’ syndrome and instead was a good balance between the two. He was known to be serious but as the General of the biggest army in Purgatory, a little stern was needed. And before the shit storm of the last year, he had been known to have fun a time or two.
He realised he had been standing in the doorway, lost in thought for more minutes than was strictly polite – or wise. Especially given who he was letting his guard down with. Draven would have kicked his arse. And he still will, Brax thought to himself, acknowledging the argument to come once his guardian learned where he was. It wasn’t often he could strike out on his own – Brax understood the need for the constant hovering. He really did. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. Given Draven had a special kind of dislike for Sabre, Brax knew he was in for a decent nagging when he finally went home.
“Where’s your guard dog?” Sabre asked, peering around him, seeming to pluck the thoughts of Draven from Brax’s mind.
“Are you referring to Styx or Draven?” Brax asked.
Sabre smirked, tapping the machete against her leather-clad thigh, effectively drawing his attention to the shapely muscle beneath. “Draven,” she sneered the other angel’s name. “He know you’re here?”
Brax crossed his arms over his chest, “He’s not the boss of me.”
“So, no then,” Sabre surmised.
Brax narrowed his eyes again, standing to his full height of six-foot-three, “I am the King. As well as a fully-grown demon. I come and go as I please.”
“Uh huh. You keep telling yourself that. Just don’t come crying to me when you get your arse spanked for hanging out with the wrong company,” she told him.
“Whatever. You disappeared on me,” Brax tried to keep the accusation out of his voice. It had been ten days since the day at the palace and although he had been texting and calling every day, Sabre had been gallivanting around the rest of the time. “I’m here for an update. Let me in.”
Sabre hesitated one more second, before sighing in resignation and swinging the door open. What he saw the moment he entered had his eyes widening in shock and his feet cementing to the floor. “What kind of fucked up place is this?” He turned to Sabre, knowing his eyes were probably as wide as saucers, “Hell, Sabre. I knew there was something seriously wrong with you, but I never imagined this kind of … wrong.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sabre winced, Brax’s words echoing around the room. She knew he would react this way, which was exactly why she didn’t want him inside her studio apartment. Still, she didn’t let it show, slamming the door behind his fine arse when he finally entered. “How did you get here anyway?” Sabre demanded, feeling defensive and exposed. The only other people to ever enter her inner sanctum were Jinx and Gage. And they knew better than to laugh or question her. Judging by the incredulous and slightly horrified look on Brax’s face, Sabre was going to have to perform some serious badarsery in order to gain back respect.
“I walked,” came the demon’s flippant, off-handed reply. He appeared too engrossed in taking in his surroundings than to be really listening to her.
Stalking around until she was directly in his path, she stopped his wide-eyed wonder and pacing with the tip of her favourite machete against the dark material of his t-shirt. “That’s not what I meant and you know it. This is my secret lair. My evil, secret lair. How did you find it?”
Brax didn’t even bother looking down at the instrument of death resting directly over his heart, he simply pushed it away and snorted, “Your evil lair has fairy lights.”
Sabre growled, she just knew this would happen if anyone saw the inside of what she considered to be her home. She may have been required to have the room back at the Blue Devil den and though she did stay there more often than not, this place was her hideaway. It was her sanctuary. The one place she could relax her rigid control and just be herself for a few precious hours at a time. But if the King knew where it was – and what it was – then she was likely going to have to burn the whole thing to the ground. She couldn’t allow herself to appear vulnerable to anyone. Especially the demon standing in front of her.
“And?” Sabre challenged, responding to Brax’s earlier comment. “Fairies are the personification of evil,” she pointed out.
Abraxis nodded his head, his gaze still a little wide-eyed and crazed as it took in the room. “You’ll get no arguments from me there. Those little motherfuckers are vindictive. And they have really sharp teeth.”
The serious look on his face as he divulged that last part almost had her laughing out loud. She could only imagine how he came to know that fairies had needle-like teeth that could pierce just about anything. She managed to hold herself back, knowing she couldn’t afford to let down her guard any more than she already had to the pretty man. It was bad enough he was standing in her private place, looking just about perfect in a tight t-shirt, combat cargo pants and boots.
“Nice place you have here,” Brax told her. “Though, I have to say, it’s … pinker than I thought it would be.” Sabre narrowed her eyes dangerously, offering him a look that was hot enough to flay skin from bone. The look didn’t seem to bother Abraxis as he choked on a laugh, squinting at her refrigerator. “Is that a puppy calendar?”
Sabre slapped his hand away from the A4 sized, glossy calendar featuring Finnish Lapphund puppies. It had been a gift from the Earth realm and she adored the tiny, teddy bear-looking baby dogs. “This is where I keep my weapons of murder and mass destruction,” she informed him, her tone chilly.
Brax said one word; “Glitter.”
Sabre leaned in close enough to hear the catch in his breath as she whispered in his ear, “Have you ever been glitter bombed?”
“Can’t say that I have,” Brax admitted, after clearing his throat.
“Then you have no real understanding of what torture truly is,” Sabre stated, her hand clenching on the machete she was still holding. She really felt the need to slaughter something – just to prove a point. A girl could like puppies, glitter, and fairy lights and still know how to disembowel someone … couldn’t she?
Brax focused his eyes on hers and Sabre was gratified to find th
e mocking light gone, “Sabre, seriously. What is all this?”
It was on the tip of Sabre’s tongue to say; this is me. But that would have been a lie. It wasn’t her. Not really. She may have kept this place as her sanctuary. Her private oasis away from the blood and the death and the killing. But this place with its fluffy pillows, scented candles and sparkling lights was not her real life. It was a lie she allowed herself – a mirage – so she could keep doing what she did and still maintain a tiny piece of her soul. She had responsibilities and loyalties the same way Abraxis did to his people. Though, she knew neither he nor Draven – or anyone else for that matter – would see it as the same thing. But she had a code she lived by. Yes, she hated herself for some of the things she had done. But would that stop her from doing it in the future? No. Because she was also a soldier at heart and she followed orders well. She would never, ever betray her true employer. No matter what.
In the end, Sabre placed her weapon on the small round table, “This is just a place to be away from the assassin den. I like my privacy. Now, what exactly do you want from me that you couldn’t have asked me in one of your many phone calls?” And they were many, Sabre thought. And she just happened to love them.
Brax widened his stance, long legs eating up the tiny space in the studio, “Like I said; you disappeared for a few days and all you’ve said about it was that you had to go on a road trip and how you were pursuing leads. Have you learned anything useful at all? What leads?”
Sabre pursed her lips, “Can I just point out, you’ve been trying to get information for over a year. I’ve been on the case less than two weeks. You’re lucky I have any leads to pursue at all.”
Brax huffed, “Two weeks should be plenty of time for someone with your reputation.”
Sabre told herself not to preen, that it wasn’t a compliment, still she raised her chin, “Actually, I have found something. A witness.”
“A what? A witness to one of the assassinations?” Brax’s fists clenched and Sabre saw the muscles in his forearms stand out in stark relief. “Whose? And you’re only telling me this now? We talk every day!”
That was true, Sabre allowed. But they mostly talked about inconsequential things like food and sports, what their favourite season was and who would win in a fight; Buffy or Sabre. Sabre firmly believed it would be her of course, but Brax was on Team Buffy, stating he would have to witness it in order to know conclusively. And he would have to witness it in the rain when their clothes would be wet and torn and muddy. Who knew Brax was such a pervert? Sabre had been biding her time, hoping to have a full report and some real answers before taking her new information to Brax. But it seemed the time was now to reveal her new findings.
“A witness to your father’s death,” Sabre admitted.
Brax’s knees must have weakened because he grabbed harshly at the chair in front of him, “Dad?” His usual strong, gruff voice was thin and had Sabre’s stomach pinching uncomfortably for some reason. “That was forty years ago.”
“I know.”
“How could there be a witness from back then? How did we not find them? Mikhail, Zagan, and I searched extensively,” Brax looked and sounded so confused.
“Well, you know my little trip with Draven? My not-so subtle revelation to the masses that I was working for you and hunting down the royal killer? Paid off,” she tried not to sound smug. But if the droll look on Brax’s face was anything to go by, she hadn’t succeeded.
“Tell me,” Brax demanded.
Sabre nodded, “Okay. But I want you to bear with me a little first, okay? For starters, I don’t think your father was poisoned –” Brax interrupted her before she could get any further and reveal she knew it to be venom rather than poison being the cause of death. The two were very different, with hugely different implications and was probably why they had been roadblocked in the first place. They had the wrong cause of death.
“It was poison. It had to be,” Brax’s voice brooked no room for argument. “There are things I can’t divulge but trust me when I say any other means of death would have been nearly impossible. Poison was one of the only ways to ensure my father was killed.”
Sabre stared at Brax for a moment, not relishing the upcoming conversation but knowing she would have to broach it if she was going to get Brax to believe her and change his mind. Figuring it was best to rip off the bandaid, she abruptly asked; “What was your father’s ability from Cerberus?”
Brax gaped at her, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. You’re father’s attribute – his legacy. Oh, don’t look so surprised. I know all about how the line of Cerberus works. The royal line breeds triplet males – always. And each of you receive a different legacy from the genetic pool. It’s like a biological lucky dip. The original Cerberus could open portals between realms, as well as command the veils – handy when he wanted to get out of Hell. His skin was also completely impervious to damage – it was like a hide made from vibranium and adamantium combined.”
“Wait,” Brax looked to be having a hard time keeping up and he rubbed the bridge of his nose, asking; “Vib-what?”
“You know, the material that makes up Captain America’s shield and Wolverine’s claws? Imagine if they were melded together – that shit would be completely indestructible,” Sabre informed him, feeling clever and wise at the same time. Brax didn’t respond to that, just continued to watch her with an indecipherable look on his face, so Sabre ploughed ahead; “Anyway, the third ability is the ability to skinwalk – literally shed your skin and become someone else. Entirely different to shapeshifters who share their bodies with the souls of an animal and can shift into their animals. What I want to know is what ability your father inherited.”
Where one second Brax looked shell-shocked and confused, the next he was in her face and clutching her upper arms in an iron grip. Sabre snarled up at him, barely stopping her reflex to draw one of her blades and gut the man where he stood for manhandling her. She allowed no one to touch her uninvited. No one.
Giving her a small shake, Brax demanded, “How do you know that? That is the most guarded secret in all of Purgatory.”
Sabre snorted, “Hardly the most guarded secret.” She would know; she held those. Sabre looked at the hands that were still gripping her harshly and then back up into that handsome face with the tortured eyes. “Let go of me,” she enunciated carefully.
Brax’s inner beast flexed at her growled words, she could see it in his eyes. Yes, she knew a lot about the royal family. Everything there was to know in fact. And although only one triplet was born with the ability to skinwalk, all of them were born with their own inner beast. She knew it wasn’t quite like a shapeshifter, sharing a spirit with their animals. No, the beast was them. It was a part of their makeup. It was the blood that pumped through their veins. She knew the beast wouldn’t be pushed. It was an alpha – Brax was an alpha. And he may be new to the whole king thing and also reluctant – but he was a General. A leader to hundreds of demon soldiers. He wouldn’t back down simply because she asked. Sabre felt a flare of something entirely different in her stomach at the thought and braced herself for his reaction.
Brax’s upper lip lifted in a tiny snarl – as if he was holding himself back. “Where did you learn that information? I won’t ask you again.”
“And I said; Let. Me. Go. I won’t ask you again,” Sabre fired back.
Brax’s nostrils flared, the beast taking in her scent. His hands gripped her more tightly for a heartbeat before he let out a huff and stepped back abruptly. To her surprise, he spun away from her, showing her his back. “Only the royal family and their guardian angels are privy to that information,” Brax informed her quietly.
“I’m aware,” Sabre admitted, just as quietly.
Abraxis turned around, “Then how did you find out? Is there a traitor in the royal line?”
Sabre forced her face to remain impassive in the light of Brax’s clear concern. To him, betrayal was obviously one of the th
ings he hadn’t counted on – and perhaps couldn’t survive. The lovely little spark of heat and want died a quick death in a fizzle on the heels of that realisation. There was no way the demon could possibly want someone like her. She made her living betraying everyone around her.
Including the throne.
But she didn’t admit any of that. Instead, she lied, “I’ve looked into your cousins and extended family. There’s no traitor. I’m an assassin, Abraxis. The best assassin in all four realms. I have ways of gaining information. It’s why you hired me. I’ve told you this before.”
Brax seemed to mull over her words but his defensive stance and the suspicious look in his eyes didn’t abate, “Why do you want to know about my father’s legacy?”
Sabre sighed, “Because it will help me determine if I’m right about the cause of death and if I’m right to continue to follow my new lead. As well as whether or not you’re also in danger,” she added.
Brax snorted a mirthless laugh at that. “Me? Oh, I pray I am the next target from that gutless piece of filth. Sneaking around, hiring rodents to stab my family in the back. Coward!” he spat the word out. “I long for the day he comes for me so I can rip his spine out with my bare hands.”
Sabre could appreciate the sentiment – and the imagery. But was worried over his blasé attitude. She stepped closer, “You have to be careful. Don’t get cocky. This person – or persons – have picked off five members of your family.”
Brax snarled, “I’m well aware of that. Why do you think I stooped so low as to hire you?”
Sabre winced, “Ouch.”
Brax ran his hands over his head and through his dark hair, making an enticing mess of the thick strands. “Shit, I’m sorry. I just … I don’t need a reminder of how much family I’ve lost. Okay? I’m well aware.”
The angel that was left within her wanted nothing more than to gather the lost and hurting demon close and soothe his pain. But the assassin who had spent more than a human lifetime at the hands of some of the cruellest mercenaries smirked at her. So, instead, she simply arched a disdainful brow, “Apology accepted. Now, your father’s legacy, it was the armour? Right? The same as you?”