by A. K. Koonce
It’s mere seconds that my attention is off of the second man, but when I look back, his eyes are closed, his head tilted to the sky. He holds his hands up and out to his sides and they’re starting to glow. I can see the muscles in his arms and in his neck flex as he channels his power. I barely even have time to recognize the shaggy blonde hair that frames the square jaw and the sharp planes of his handsome face. Jameson Ryne. Target Three.
I’m not sure if he’s here for me, but I’m not about to take any chances. Just as lightning bolts of pure electric energy pass from his hands, I slow time, watching them sail toward the man I’ve got in my grasp.
Growling my anger into the alleyway, I shove the man into the electricity, leaving his neck intact. His body moves in slow motion.
The blonde watches me with an amused expression on his face, one corner of his mouth is tilted in a crooked smirk. The color of his eyes is a deep, electric blue—for lack of a better term. It suits him.
I have ten seconds left before my hold on time wears off, and I make a split-second decision to stay. Something tells me that Jameson isn’t here to kill me. In fact, he’s about to take out my assailant in three, two…
As my power fades, the energy bolts straight into the unknown man and I watch as his body contracts. Falling face first into the ground, he writhes as though he’s been tased.
“That’ll keep him awhile.” Jameson nods, propping his hands on his hips in a carefree way I find alarming for an assassin—ex-assassin? I seriously need to learn more about these four marks of mine. I have a feeling I’ll be coming face to face with the fourth anytime now if my rapid introduction to the first three was any indication. “Where to now, cupcake?” He flashes the whites of his teeth at me in a Cheshire grin.
Cupcake.
“I had that handled.” I cross my arms, my shoulder resting on the dirty brick wall to my side as I nod to the now unconscious, twitching man lying prone on the ground.
“Of course, you did.” He nods, mimicking my posture as he crosses his own arms, stretching the fabric of his shirt over his broad, strong chest in the process. He looks like he works out every single day. Probably outside, if his sun-kissed skin is any indication. He’s good looking, but that doesn’t make me want to roll my eyes at him any less. I don’t appreciate his condescending tone.
Deciding dismissal is the best way to deal with him, I push off the wall and strut past him, adding a little extra sass to my walk.
“Nice to meet you, Jameson.” Without looking back, I throw the words over my shoulder.
“You too, Alexa.” He taunts me, making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Not because of how he says my name, but because of how close his voice sounds. He’s right behind me, moving soundlessly. I feel the heat of his body warm mine.
Ignoring him, I continue on my way. I weave in and out of different alleyways, avoiding the sketchy ones while I try to escape my golden shadow. No matter how hard I try, he follows me like a lost puppy dog looking for handouts. Relentless. I’m tired, irritable, and beyond frustrated.
“Are you lost?” I quip, spinning around to face him. I can’t help the small lift of my lips as he stumbles to a stop only inches in front of me. He stands so close I have to tip my head back to meet his gaze. I’m not short, but I barely come to his shoulder. “Are you just going to follow me all evening?” My eyebrows arch in challenge.
“That’s the plan. Orders.” He shrugs unapologetically. I want to knock the smirk off of his face. Unlike his friend, he seems to be permanently happy. I don’t know why it pisses me off so much.
I narrow my eyes. “Orders from who?” I have a guess, but want to make sure I’m right.
“Who else?”
“Tylin.” His name is a growl on my lips.
“You got it. So really, where to?” Suddenly he drops his guard, looking around the desolate area I led him to.
Sighing, I realize I’m not going to be able to shake Jameson, and it doesn’t seem like he’s under kill orders. If he was, he would have done the deed and disposed of my body in one of the large dumpsters that seem to decorate every damn alleyway we pass. At least, he could try.
“Come on, Goldilocks.” I start walking again, letting him keep pace right beside me. “It’s not far now.”
“You’re planning on holing up in one of these run-down warehouses?” He looks skeptical. I try to recall the file I had on him. His background is as golden as his hair. Living in one of the wealthy communities, he’s grown up privileged. It seemed to me that opportunity and good fortune fell at his feet in his formative years. Hell, he’d even been offered a full football scholarship to the best college in the city.
But then he just… disappeared from society. How he got hooked up with Armond is a mystery, and I won’t deny I’m curious.
“Yes.” I’m not in the mood for idle chatter.
“Won’t this be trespassing?” Like that would bother me. I kill people for a living. He knows this. Once upon a time, he did too, if the mark on his neck is any indication of his involvement with the Lifeless League. The ink slashes across his skin, drawing attention to the sharp angle of his jaw. I pull my gaze away from his features.
“Per se. Does that bother you?” He can’t seriously have any qualms about breaking and entering, can he?
“No, no. I’m good.” He holds his hands up, acting like he’s surrendering. “Whoever owns the building might mind, however.” We turn a corner, the building I’m aiming for in sight. The man is infuriating.
“He won’t mind.”
“Why’s that?” he presses.
“Because he’s dead,” and with that, I walk around the side of the building and jimmy up a window I know from a previous encounter doesn’t lock from the inside. I slip through, not waiting for him to follow.
Six
Joining the Team
He does follow though. He follows on quiet steps, his eyes catching every detail of our surroundings. The damp, dark warehouse smells of mildew and the decaying body I planted here last week.
Yes, home sweet home.
If Jameson notices any of it, he doesn’t show it. I lounge with my leg thrown over a rusted chair. The metal bites into the underside of my thighs. I try to keep a lazy and tired appearance, but the way he watches me sets my nerves on edge.
The life of a huntress is a quiet one. Not lonely exactly. In the Lifeless League I’m surrounded by fellow assassins, but there is nothing to talk about. We’re a group of individuals with everything in common, but it’s safer not to speak of our crimes. The less you know, the less incriminating you are.
So we don’t speak. The days pass quietly.
Until today.
“Nice place you got here.” His sculpted shoulder leans against the dirty wall as he studies me closely.
A simple nod is my only response.
“You come here often?”
I cock a brow at him.
At that terrible question, I do answer.
“Do you always use pick-up lines as small talk, or am I just really special?”
A smile that makes my insides tangle around themselves tilts his full lips.
“Tylin said you were dangerous. I’m starting to think Tylin doesn’t know you as well as I do.”
Jameson has a confidence that tells me he gets laid. A lot.
It’s annoying. Not charming at all if you’re paying attention to the intentional things he does. The smile. The posture. The slow, raking, eye fucking he’s constantly doing.
A shaking breath parts my lips.
Completely annoying I tell you.
“All targets have ratings based on our evaluations. Danger ratings and such.” He nods as I speak. He’s aware. “The file I have on you rates you as a five, did you know that?” It’s a lie. A five isn’t a threat at all. Judging by his electric show, he’s a solid nine if not higher. But I can’t help but kick him in the balls just to see how fragile his ego is.
“A five. I’m not a five anything. You should
reevaluate your math, love.”
His sweet little nicknames are raking on my every nerve.
“It’s a little lower because of that other thing.” I tilt my head in a deliberate but hush-hush way.
His eyes narrow on me. He’s waiting to see if I’ll say more, and I’m waiting to see what he’ll confess to.
When he relents, his features soften. The stiffness in his shoulders dissolves.
“I suppose that’s fair. Erectile dysfunction would lower anyone’s score.”
My lips part and I can’t think of a single thing to say to him. My shock only makes him smile more, if that’s possible.
“I’m kidding. Fuck, stop looking at me like my cock is breaking your heart or something. Tell me I’m a ten, and we’ll just both move on from this awkward way you’re looking at me.”
“You are not a ten.”
Maybe in the face. Jameson has the face of a Greek god. The body of a warrior. Personality of an eggplant.
Definitely not a ten.
But he might be just what I need right now.
Someone with information.
“What are the four of you doing together?” Are they some sort of anti-league?
His attention darts away from me. The city lights outside shine down on him, beaming over his now somber features.
“Tylin should have killed you.” It’s a whispered confession. It’s so quiet it scurries through the room and across my flesh.
“But he didn’t.” I need him to do what I know a normal assassin would never do. I need him to give me information on his own people. “He trusts me,” I say it with more confidence than I feel. Unearned conviction steadies my voice. “You want to trust me.” I feel like I’m trying to convince us both.
His tongue rolls across his lower lip. He looks at me from beneath long, dark lashes. It’s a dangerous look. Striding steps sound quietly through the room as he comes closer and closer until the nerves just beneath my skin start to tingle throughout my body.
He lowers himself. Long fingers grip the chair as he holds himself above me. Heavy shadows line his face. His beautiful eyes bore into mine, making me shift beneath his gaze.
“I don’t trust Armond.” Warm breath kisses my lips. “I don’t trust the Lifeless League.” His attention drifts to my mouth for only a second before meeting my gaze with a hard look. “And I don’t fucking trust the assassin they sent to kill me. So no, I don’t want to trust you, Alexa.” He shoves so hard away from me that the chair scrapes against the damp concrete.
My jaw clenches shut when he storms back to his spot near the windows. Why are they all so frustrating?
It seems I’ll have to figure this out for myself. The League would never have kicked them out. That isn’t their way. They would have disposed of a rogue assassin rather than releasing them. So that must mean they left. They abandoned us.
They abandoned me, even.
Why does that feel so hurtful?
They left because they didn’t trust the League. But why? The League will kill me for not killing these men. The twist of my stomach seems to tell me I can’t kill them though. If it were one man, it’d seem logical. Occasionally, an assassin will think they can retire. Think they can slip away without a trace. But four of them?
It just doesn’t feel right.
If I’m being honest, Armond isn’t someone to be trusted. He’s someone to be respected.
“Will you answer me one thing?” I sit up straighter in my chair, realizing he’s not as easy of a target as I originally thought.
He looks my way but doesn’t reply.
“Do you intend to retaliate? Will you eventually come back for Armond to do to him what he would surely do to you?”
“That is the plan.” His voice holds that casual sound once again.
His response isn’t surprising. They aren’t the first people to want Armond dead. They are the first who might have a real fighting chance though.
“And what about those who get in your way?”
“No hard feelings, but I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.”
My shoulders tense and instead of cowering from his words, I stand. His quiet appraisal watches my every move as I walk the span of the room to stand before him. White moonlight slices through the space between us. My lips purse as I stare up at him for several quiet seconds.
A taunting thought trickles through my mind. I could earn their trust. I could drag this out until I know what this is really about.
When I speak, my voice is a conspiratorial whisper that caresses the room.
“Don’t you think it’d be more helpful if you had someone on the inside?”
He leans in close, a smile tipping his lips. My breasts push against the hard panes of his chest. His words surprise me more than I’ll ever admit.
“What makes you think we don’t already?”
An empty breath falls from my lips. I hate when I’m speechless. To be fair, it doesn’t happen often. My shitty retorts always manage to fall from my lips before I can stop them.
“I’m just fucking with you, Al.” He steps back as a chuckle shakes through him. I watch him through narrowed eyes. I can’t believe he just called me Al. What an ass. “You want to risk your neck and be our inside guy, great. Doesn’t hurt us in the least. Doesn’t make us trust you either.” He bites the inside of his cheek as he seems to mull it over. My arms cross as I wait for his decision. “Sounds like it’d be nothing but a gain for us, and probably a pretty big loss for you. So sure, be our inside guy. Get us all the deets.”
Deets.
Could he be any more of a douche canoe?
He’s just trying to make it clear to me that he still thinks like an assassin. I can’t just pretend to be on their side. I’ll have to prove it.
“You really think you have the authority to be hiring inside guys?” Just to prove I’m the bigger dick, I add in one last snarky comment in my most belittling voice. “Maybe you should check with Tylin first.” I cock my head at him. He and I both know he’s not in charge here. Nothing puts a man back in his place like reminding him of that.
“I don’t have a boss, sweetheart. We’re a team. A really good fucking team.” A single stalking step brings him right back into my personal space. His body brushes all over mine. Hard muscle skims against my chest, distracting me slightly. Thank god his personality is shit or he’d be a real issue for me right now. “Welcome to the team, Lex.”
He seems to be the sweeter one. He isn’t harsh and dominating like Tylin. When he isn’t proving himself, he’s actually sort of nice in a weird way. Assassins aren’t known for their kindness. But somehow Jameson seems less intimidating than the other two.
A smile like sex and sin tilts his lips. It’s as if he’s drilling terrible and dirty thoughts all through my mind with just a simple look.
And here we stand; him staring down on me, my hands clutched tightly at my sides, our bodies fitting a little too perfectly together.
Why does he feel so good?
Jameson Ryne is more of a threat than I anticipated.
Just not in the way I originally thought.
Seven
A Father Figure
I refuse to back down from the showdown that we have going on. Returning his sexy smile with one of my own, I push as much sass into it as possible.
“Well then, teammate, looks like I have a job to do.”
“Get to it then.” His blue eyes bore into mine. Reaching a hand up to the fitted leather jacket I’m wearing, I unzip it slowly and grin in victory when his eyes flick downward to the swell of my breasts that are now on display. The black bustier top I have on cups the girls brilliantly.
I win.
Strutting past him, I head across the room and pull the door open to the bathroom.
“Does this job you speak of include the toilet? Because you really should shut the door. I don’t think we’re at that stage of our relationship yet, babe.” His arms cross over his chest while he flaps his annoyin
gly sexy mouth; speaking, but saying nothing of importance.
I roll my eyes, but it’s my own reflection I stare into. Wide blue eyes stare back at me. I run my fingers through the long brown locks working to untangle them. Pulling my hair on top of my head, I secure it into a high ponytail and then turn on the tap. The chill of the water is refreshing as it meets my face. Letting it drip back into the basin, I brace my hands on the ugly, white porcelain edge of the sink. Every inch of this place is covered in dirt and dust.
I’m going back. I am going to walk through the doors of the house that serves as home, training facility, and the headquarters of the Lifeless League. I am a fucking idiot.
Good pep talk.
I dry off and head back into the warehouse, moving toward the same window that gave me entry. The longer I stay away from Armond, the more suspicious my behavior will appear. While I was careful to keep my distance from him, I didn’t ignore him purposefully.
Damage control. Step one.
Pulling myself up, I slip through the opening, happy to finally be breathing fresh air again. The odor of decomposing bodies is not one I will get used to—no matter my profession. I’m going to have to bathe for a week to get the stench out of my hair.
“You don’t stay in one place too long, do you?”
“Thank you for your babysitting services, but they’re no longer required.” I clench my hands into fists, debating on giving in to the urge to punch him in his obnoxiously beautiful face. I am going to deck him if he keeps following me.
An evil smirk tilts my lips. Or I could just keep quiet and let him follow me right back to Armond. I bet I’d get some answers then. Or everyone would be dead. Either way.
Blissfully, he keeps quiet as I make my way back to the Lifeless League. Just before I reach the building his arm snakes around my stomach, hauling me back into his body. His other hand lands possessively on my hip, anchoring my back to his front. I try to ignore how the curves of my ass fits deliciously against the long outline of him.
Another impressive dick in under twenty-four hours. Unfortunately, that dick happens to be attached to a dick.