An Assassin's Death

by A. K. Koonce

  “Don’t get caught up in what you think you know, Huntress.” His whispered words fan across my lips and a consuming energy swirls between us.

  “You’re willing to let me risk my life for all this but you won’t even tell me the full story.” My voice dips but the anger in me shoves it right back into place. “You want me on your fucking team, then act like it.” Rage shakes through me and before I say one more stupid thing, I turn away from him.

  Warm fingers grip my wrist just lightly, halting me in my tracks.

  “They’re breeding a source of power. They’re creating something deadly. What if I told you it was safer if you didn’t know the full story?”

  His question consumes my mind with confusion.

  I hate this. I hate the not knowing. And I hate that he’ll never tell me.

  My stomach tangles as I realize we’ll never be friends. I was an idiot to think I could ever really belong here.

  I’m making a mess of my life.

  More than it was before.

  I push at his hand but he doesn’t let me go. My palm connects with his shoulder and I shove against his hard chest. He staggers back from me. A shining look gleams in his eyes. It looks like guilt and it looks like regret.

  But I know he’ll never tell me either way.

  I turn, but at the last minute, all the fury in me builds to an all-time high. I spin quickly and kick my leg out, catching his knees just right until he lands hard on his back. A low grunt rumbles through him.

  It’s oddly satisfying in a petty way.

  “Don’t pretend to care about my safety, Ty.” I turn slightly away from him, wanting to go to bed but I can’t seem to look away from him. Nothing but exhaustion has filled this day. I just want to sleep. I want to sleep and forget the way these men are affecting me.

  Then his palm wraps around my ankle and he pulls hard. A gasp barely has time to leave my lungs before the back of my head slams against the soft rug. Pain shoots through my skull. He rolls and his body covers mine, his arm holding him just above me.

  “Don’t pretend you don’t care that I care about you.” His rumbling words send a tingling feeling all through my core. The hard pounding of my heart pulses through me and I'm suddenly aware that I'm not wearing underwear. His smooth stomach is pressed between my thighs and against my sex.

  It's all I can think about.

  His gaze drifts across my features as if he’s just now aware of how close we are. The white light of the moon catches the intensity of his eyes. It highlights every storming emotion he holds there. He’s still assessing everything about me as I lean slowly forward.

  I inch closer, my elbows supporting my weight and he watches my every move with intent interest.

  My lips press slowly to his. I don’t know why I do it.

  I’d like to say it’s to test him. To see if he really meant what he said.

  Does he really care about me?

  But honestly… it’s impulsive. I simply want to feel that connection that’s always brooding between us when he’s around.

  But only for a moment.

  I pull back from him and a heavy breath leaves his lips, fanning against mine. It’s a repressed sound. Like he’s been holding his breath the entire time he’s known me.

  Power tingles against my lips and I know it’s his abilities absorbing into me. But I have no idea what his powers even are. I feel it though. It caresses against my mind and lingers peculiarly there. It tries to distract me from the sexy hooded look in his eyes.

  “I knew you guys would fuck eventually.” Jameson’s voice cuts through the tension. He tears away our rising emotions in an instant.

  It’s a simple statement, but it’s enough to make Tylin pull away from me. He sits up, his hands pushing over his short, cropped hair. He puts plenty of space between us.

  I hate how much that felt like a dismissal.

  Like he’s embarrassed to be seen here like this with me.

  With ease, I stand and pull my shirt back down, ignoring the both of them. I don’t chance a glance back at Tylin where he stays seated on the floor.

  My heavy footsteps bring me up the curving staircase. Jameson’s shoulder is smooth against mine as I pass. I didn’t even hear him walk from the living room to the stairs. How long has he been here?

  I can’t help but leave him one last snarky remark before I head to bed.

  “If you think that’s what sex looks like, then you’re not nearly as experienced as I thought you were.”

  Twenty-Seven

  An Assassin’s Past

  There’s a feeling you get right before you’re about to do something that you’ve dreaded doing for days. Instead of obsessing about it, or even planning for it anymore, you just… do nothing at all.

  I’m currently sitting in a gown and accessories that cost over a thousand dollars. Sure, I think the sunglasses and three gleaming rings are a bit excessive, but Tylin did buy them for me, so I’ll wear them with pride. Even if I do look ridiculous wearing them as I sit on the floor of Jameson’s bedroom. The gown’s bunched up around my legs as I sit in heap of satin fabric. A cherry, crimson color stains my lips, my eyes are a brilliant blue with long lashes coated into a thick array of beauty. Long, dark locks are pulled back from my sweetly freckled face.

  When I looked in the mirror, I realized I looked like her. It startled me so much I finally just sat down, trying hard to get the image of her photo out of my head.

  But I can’t.

  Because I look like her.

  For the first time in my twenty-one years, I look just like my mother. My dark chestnut hair was always a dull tangle of thick locks, my face a little dirty, my clothes were a mixture of poverty and assassin uniform.

  It wasn’t until today that I realized I’m more like the carefree woman I researched back when I joined the Lifeless League than I ever realized. There was never any resentment toward the woman who should have been my mother. She wasn’t someone who abandoned me, a forgotten child in the world. She was just… an absence.

  Sometimes, when I was really little, I’d pretend the woman who took care of me but couldn’t communicate with me was my mother. She barely spoke to me at all. It didn’t stop me from pretending. It wasn’t until I signed my life away to Armond that I found out anything about my real mother.

  She died a quiet but peaceful death.

  Carbon monoxide poisoning when she was asleep. It didn’t hurt at all.

  It was reassuring to me to know she hadn’t died in pain. That she hadn’t disowned me. That she was a good woman who I very much like to think loved and cared for me.

  The article on her death mentioned she was outlived by her only child. What the short article failed to mention is where that child was at the time of her death. What that child went on to do. Who that child grew up to be.

  My attention is held on the shine of my perfectly painted red nails, so much so that I don’t notice when Tylin walks in. His shoes stop an inch from the hem of my dress and I stare at his shoelaces for several moments before I realize he’s actually there.

  “You look like you’ve been stood up for the senior prom.” He lowers himself, crouching down to meet my gaze.

  My tongue slips across my lips and I force myself to push aside my very festive pity party.

  I consider telling him I didn’t have a mother to make sure I attended school let alone a prom but once again, I push aside that damn pity party.

  “I—” He pauses, his hands locking together in front of him. “I attempted to murder the higher power Armond has been showing an interest in. It wasn’t Armond I tried to kill.”

  My brows raise and I keep quiet in hopes that he’ll feed me more information.

  “The man, Derek Stallis, is someone of deadly intent. He’s been working for decades to create a source of power that could completely annihilate the human population.”

  “What could Armond possibly offer him?”

  “Since Armond is the leader of the Life
less League, he has the one product Derek wants more than anything; immense power.”

  “How’d you try to kill him?”

  He shrugs with a small smile and it occurs to me that I’ve never seen the power which Tylin was so adamant he could kill me with.

  “When I’m really focused and someone is unaware, I can sneak inside their minds. I can plant dangerous thoughts inside their pretty little heads.” There’s that cruel gleam in his eye that I always associate with his lies.

  But this time, I think he’s entirely honest.

  “You’re a telepath?”

  He shakes his head at me slowly.

  “Not at all. For majority of my life I never realized I possessed any powers, but bad things always followed when I was angry. When my emotions were at their highest and my target was at their weakest. Now I’m more in control. I probably could be a telepath if I used my ability for more than just killing.”

  “All those bad things could just be a coincidence. Have you ever heard of karma, Ty?” I’m taunting him and he seems to be taking the bait.

  “Maybe. I guess you’ll find out the next time you’re too relaxed around me.” A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips.

  My eyes narrow on him and his subtle threat but I can’t help but smile back at his rarely shown happiness. His gaze lowers to the curve of my mouth and there’s a fleeting moment that I know he’s thinking about our kiss. The one he dismissed me from.

  The one I’m not likely to forget for the rest of my life.

  Because I’ll never be able to ask him about it. I’ll never have the nerve to kiss him again. Because he’s essentially my boss. And I am just his asset.

  “Mason says you need to leave in exactly seven minutes.”

  My eyes widen.

  “You’ve been up here for at least five.”

  His hands wave before him. “You’re the one making small talk, not me.”

  I shove off from the soft carpet, and the heels I’m wearing catch on the hem of my dress causing me to stumble forward. His palm skims against my lower arm, steadying me and caressing me all at the same time. His thumb sweeps slowly over the tender skin of my wrist.

  “You’re ready. Wipe the anxiety from your face. You can do this.”

  I swallow hard from the sound of his reassurance and suddenly my breathing is calm and steady.

  Just as I take a single step forward, his arms skim against my bare shoulders, his body aligns with mine and in front of me he presents the diamond encrusted mask. The lighting glitters against the jewels even as he settles it in place. With perfect posture, I wait as he circles around me, tying the silky ribbons behind my head. His hands brush against the back of my neck, making me shiver as he works. At the last moment, he steals my fancy sunglasses from atop my head and I turn to him as he tosses them on the mattress.

  “You look perfect now.” His quiet approval washes over me and there’s a hint of awkward tension in the air.

  I’m definitely going to be thinking about that kiss for the rest of my life.

  Every detail Mouse gave me is one hundred and ten percent accurate. The pews of the church have been removed, leaving an enormous room laid out before me. There’s more people here than I’ve ever seen at the Lifeless League. The room is filled wall-to-wall with silky dresses and pressed suits. Hundreds of people are here. But where did they all come from?

  Some are assassins, and I can feel the charged atmosphere around me as the presence of their powers wash over me. I can only pray my mask is doing a hell of a job every time I make eye contact with someone I recognize.

  Armond is nowhere to be seen.

  The building may have been remodeled along the empty space that the patrons are using as a dance floor but at the front there still stands an altar. A cross demands my attention, and I just know that’s where he will stand when he does make his grand appearance.

  I peer up at the balcony, hoping to see familiar dark eyes looking out for me.

  But he isn’t there. A few people mill around the second floor but the one person who could bring me comfort right now isn’t there.

  The feeling that sinks low in my stomach twists in rhythm with my emotions.

  Warm palms run down my arms as a rasping breath fans against my ear. The pulsing feel of familiar power tingles over my skin, and I know who it is before I even lay eyes on him.

  “You look fucking stunning.” Mason’s words shiver all through me as his chest melds against my spine.

  “What are you doing down here?” My tone is harsh but my body language directly contradicts it. I melt back into Mouse, stealing any comfort his closeness offers me.

  “You looked too beautiful to leave alone. Had to come see you.” A hand trails down my arm to my hip, settling possessively on my curves, while the other slides upward, pulling my long hair to the side as he leans in. “Plus, I figured you could use a dancing partner.” His breath caresses the back of my neck, sending a shiver through my body.

  I look pointedly around the room at all the other males in attendance. “I didn’t realize I had a lack of options.” It’s true, but I secretly love that Mouse is here with me. Especially after last night.

  “Like I’d let another man touch you.” Each possessive word touches my heart and lights me on fire.

  “Jameson touches me,” I say. “So does Tylin. Rory—never mind.”

  “That’s different.” The statement is just that. A fact. He doesn’t sound conflicted about the relationship that’s forming between all of us. And neither am I. I’ve never had anyone to care about me, and I’m not about to let something like societal convention get in the way of my rapidly growing happiness. If I survive this, that is. And if Rory doesn’t kill me himself for infiltrating his precious team.

  The sharp sound of the small orchestra pierces the air as another song strikes up.

  Without another word, Mason places a hand low on my back and guides me to the dance floor, sweeping me up into his arms. I settle my hand into his and let him pull me closer than etiquette demands.

  The lighting makes his smooth skin more olive, his features sharper, and his eyes impossibly darker.

  I hold my breath as we start to move, staring at my feet and trying to remember the steps that Tylin forced me to learn. Although I will never admit it to Tylin, I’m glad he made me learn. I’m glad I got to share that part of him that he never would have shown me if not for this event. This event brought the five of us together really.

  This party is more posh than I could have imagined, and even though I’m all dolled up, I don’t feel like I belong. I don’t seem to belong anywhere.

  Without words, Mouse moves a hand under my chin, tilting my face upward.

  “Relax,” he whispers. I breathe once more.

  Mason wears his tux perfectly; the cut black lines perfectly tailored in perfect black and white. With my black mask and white dress, we look like quite the couple.

  We went over the details a hundred times but I never could have imagined all of this. Crystal flutes filled with champagne sparkle in the candlelight. The golden lighting casts the painted windows into pretty colors along the glossy floor.

  I feel like a princess. A princess with an assassin’s blade beneath her billowing gown but a princess all the same.

  The sweeping movements of the dance allow me a reason to scan the room, and I realize the brilliance of Mouse’s plan to get me on the dance floor.

  The altar is still suspiciously empty and I wonder when Armond is going to make his appearance. He won’t let it go unnoticed. That much I know.

  The room has a tense air about it, but what else would we expect from a group of socially awkward, deadly assassins? Whoever came up with the idea to put us all in one room is a disturbed human being. But aren’t we all?

  Mase and me flow seamlessly around the room, every step in unison like we were made to be together. With ease, he leads me through smooth, well thought out steps.

  As he angles my bo
dy in different directions, he schools me on the layout once more. “The exits.” I glance over his tall shoulders at the doors around the room he points out. “Listen,” he starts, “I know we have you here for a reason, but don’t take any stupid risks.”

  I nearly snort. “This whole thing seems like a stupid risk to me, Mase.” I don’t elaborate. Who knows who’s listening or exactly what kind of powers swirl through this room right now. All I know is that the air is super charged, nearly crawling with energy. It prickles against my skin.

  “Ty knows what he’s doing. So do you.”

  The fact that he lumps me in with his fearless leader lightens my heart and reminds me that I’m a damn good assassin. For better or worse.

  “Where are the other three musketeers, anyway?” The large room is filled with people, and I don’t see them. I know they won’t be seen if they don’t want to be, but it’s equally likely that they’re not here. The plan was for one of them to be my backup. I’m happy to have Mase here. Still, my heart sinks at the thought that Jameson and Tylin don’t care enough to be here like he does. The more sane, logical part of my brain is happy they aren’t. Everything about this event has me on edge. I’d rather they all stay safe. Even Rory. I’ve made peace with being the sacrificial lamb.

  He leans in. “They’re close enough.”

  It’s more than I should have hoped for. With one sharp nod, I turn away. I can’t chance losing myself to thoughts of them when I need to be hyper focused on the room beyond.

  I need to be on the lookout for Armond. I need to be on the lookout for this Derek Stallis.

  “Where’s Armond?” I ask. If anyone can track him, it’s Mouse. He spins me elegantly and I give myself mental kudos for my perfect follow-through.

  Closing his eyes, I notice the blue glow that radiates from behind his lids. When he opens them again the neon blue swirls in their brown depths, the remnants of his power fizzling out slowly. My lips part as I watch his beautiful eyes.

  “He’s here. Within the building.” He says it quietly, his eyes flicking to a side door near the stage at the front of the sanctuary.