Blood Magic (Dragon Born Alexandria Book 2) (12 page)

Except for being born.

“So I talked to Joren. I wanted to know who wanted Alex dead and which assassin had taken the job. He pretended not to know anything about it.” Logan’s eyes narrowed in anger, as though he were reliving the moment. “He was lying.”

“How did you know?” Naomi asked.

“Because his scent changed. He stank of lies.”

“You can smell lies?” Marek asked.

“Yes.”

“Have you ever considered coming to work for the Magic Council?”

“No. I didn’t run away from one totalitarian organization just to join another.”

Marek frowned at him.

“What happened next?” Alex prompted Logan. If she had to smack those two with her sword, she would.

“I said to Joren that he was going to tell me everything he knew about the contract on your life. He laughed, telling me I might be good, but not that good. He was mistaken. His six lackeys tried to jump me at once. I killed them. And then I grabbed Joren and tortured him until he gave up the assassin’s name and location. Unfortunately, that’s all he knew. He didn’t know who hired Shadowstalker. That’s the fiend’s name. What a ripoff. He’s clearly trying to ride the coattails of Deathstalker’s success.”

“Are you sure Joren didn’t know more?” asked Alex.

“I was thorough. I’m sure.” Logan’s expression darkened. The crazed look really matched all the blood. “I went to the location Joren gave me, but the assassin had already fled. He’d left in a hurry.”

“He knew you were coming,” Alex said.

“Yes. One of the assassins at the Hangman must have tipped him off. As soon as I started taking down Joren’s security force, they all left.”

“What now?” Marek asked. “Are you going after the assassin?

“Are you going to take him down?” Naomi added.

Neither of them looked upset at the prospect. It was nice to have friends.

“Yes, I will get this Shadowstalker.” Logan’s voice seethed with fury. “And I need to do it before he goes after Alex again. But right now, we need to move. There are vampires, Convictionites, and an assassin all after Alex. She has made quite an impression on the city tonight.”

“Hey!” she said, indignant. “How is this my fault?”

He didn’t stop to dignify her complaint with a response—even though it totally deserved one. “Any one of them might have tracked us here. We’re not safe. Let’s go.”

“Go?” Marek sounded at least as indignant as Alex. He clearly didn’t like the idea of having to abandon his own house. “To where?”

Logan grabbed a duffel bag and started stuffing it with supplies. “I have just the place. Nice and off the grid.”

* * *

To Logan, ‘off the grid’ meant an upscale apartment at the top of one of London’s most expensive hotels. The man did love his penthouse suites and city views.

This hotel was owned by a ghost who had been a business mogul before death. He was even richer in the afterlife than he had been in his mortal life. What a non-corporeal being did with all his piles of cash was anyone’s guess.

“He sure was friendly, especially compared to the last ghost I met. And he showed us all the way up here himself,” Naomi whispered as the owner floated off down the hall.

“He and Logan are friends,” Alex replied, swiping the keycard to open the door.

She, Naomi, and Marek stepped into the suite. Logan, deciding his blood-stained appearance would probably draw unwanted attention, had climbed in through the window. He stood in the living room right now, waiting for them. He’d climbed up the outside of the building and had still beaten them there.

“How does one come to be friends with a ghost?” Naomi asked him.

“Ripley wasn’t a ghost when we met. We were both prisoners of a man named Nails.”

“Nails?” Naomi snickered.

“A gangster who fancied himself a warlord.”

“You were captured?” Marek was barely containing his joy.

Logan’s face was pure granite. “No. I allowed myself to be captured. So did Ripley. We were both after a magical artifact that Nails had in his vault. Ripley was something of an amateur treasure hunter back then. But breaking into a high-security building was a lot different than rummaging through old ruins, as he quickly found out. He paid me to help him steal the artifact. Since I was just going to sell it anyway, it was a no-brainer. I’ve been doing the occasional job here and there for him ever since.”

“So you think you can trust him?” Alex asked,

“Yes. But I’ve taken precautions just in case.”

“What sort of precautions?” asked Marek.

“Deadly ones.”

“Like climbing in through the window?” Alex teased.

“That was more a matter of necessity. We’re checked in under an alias, but if I walked through the lobby dripping blood, word would get out.”

Alex crossed the room to him and plucked a water bottle from the welcome basket. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Alex asked him in a low voice.

Naomi and Marek had wandered over to the television and were flipping through the early morning news reports. God, they’d all been up for nearly twenty-four hours. Alex swallowed an emerging yawn.

“I’m fine. My body can remain awake and active for days if need be,” Logan assured her.

“Awake and active for days, you say? I think I have to see that for myself.” She gave him a coy wink, the effect slightly ruined by the enormous yawn that followed.

He leaned in to whisper into her ear. “Alex, I would love nothing more than for you to stay with me tonight.” Every word melted against her skin. “But if you’re to survive the coming days, I need you to be at your best. You should get some rest.”

He was right. Damn it, but he was. That didn’t stop her body from arching toward his.

He’s still covered in blood,
she reminded her stupid hormones.

I don’t think they’re listening,
her helpful dragon observed.

Thanks
. Alex folded her hands behind her back. “How are we going to get into the Convictionite base holding the hybrids and the Blood Orb? Neither my nor Naomi and Marek’s attempt was particularly successful.”

“I heard you head-butted a security guard.” The corner of his lip twitched, the only evidence of emotion on his otherwise blank face.

“Naomi and Marek were in trouble. I was in a hurry and had to improvise.”

Logan nodded—whether in agreement or amusement she couldn’t tell. “I need to take a look at the building plans in order to come up with the best way to infiltrate it.”

“And you can use your hacking skills to steal the plans?”

A low laugh rumbled in his chest. “My skills won’t be useful here. The Convictionites are too paranoid to allow the plans of their bases to be electronically accessible. A field trip will be in order.”

“You mean breaking into the city records’ building to steal physical plans?”

“No,” he said. “The Convictionites had the physical plans removed from there too. The plans are kept in a secure island facility in the middle of the Pacific.”

“How secure?”

“Very. Our chances of breaking into that facility, stealing the plans, and getting away again are basically nonexistent. Luckily, a copy of the original plans are kept in one other place, somewhere few people even know about.”

“The Evil Queen’s nightstand?”

“The home office of the Convictionites’ architect, the person who designed all their installations,” he told her. “There are very few people in the Convictionites’ order who know his name: James M. Bradford.”

“Is the middle initial necessary?”

“He’s a pretentious man,” replied Logan. “But more importantly, he lives in London. We’ll pay him a visit in the morning.” He glanced out the window at the sky painted pink and orange by the rising sun. “Actually, the afternoon. That is, if I don’t have a lead on Shadowstalker by then.” He lifted his hand, cutting off Alex’s protest. “I know what you’re going to say, but this is just something I have to do. Forgive me if I insist on putting your life ahead of the hybrids and the Blood Orb.”

Alex wanted to protest, to say she could handle herself, but the truth was that if he hadn’t jumped in front of the knives, she’d probably be dead right now. She hadn’t even felt the assassin’s presence on that rooftop. “Is Shadowstalker a supernatural or human?”

“Human,” he told her. “But very well-trained. I’ve looked at his Guild profile, and he’s taken down some big people. Whoever hired him wasn’t sparing any expense. His file also claims that he never gives up secrets. That’s one reason he commands such a high fee. He’s supposedly immune to torture.” Something in Logan’s eyes—or maybe that was the hiccup in his aura—told Alex that he didn’t buy that last bit.

“You don’t believe it.”

“Of course not. No one is immune to torture. Sometimes you just have to dig a bit deeper to find his weakness.”

“And what is your weakness?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He reached out his hand toward her, then stopped suddenly. He frowned down at the smears of blood. “It’s you.”

She wanted to reach out and take his hand, but he’d already moved it behind his back. “Who would go to all this trouble, pay all this money, to kill me?” And could it be related to the assassin who had come for her and Sera years ago, the one who had killed Dad. “Does this have anything to do with what happened to my father?”

“I’m still waiting for Deathstalker to get back to me with some info about Nightshade and the person who hired him. But I’m getting the feeling this is something different.”

Great,
she thought.
Even more people want to kill me.

Logan looked at her. “You’re worried.” He brushed his fingertip down her arm, trailing goosebumps across her skin. “We’ll get Shadowstalker. And we’ll get the person who hired Nightshade. I promise.”

She cracked a smile. “Well, as long as I get to pull out my sword.”

He cupped his hands around her cheeks and lowered his forehead to hers. “Why do you pretend to be such a brute?”

“It’s easier that way.”

“You’re so much more, Alex.” His nose brushed past hers as he dipped to kiss her.

Their lips had barely touched when Marek called out to her, “Alex, we’re going to bed now. Are you coming as well?”

“Coming.” Her pitiful laugh buzzed against Logan’s lips. “I should get some sleep.”

“Yes,” he agreed, stepping back. “Goodnight.”

“See you soon.” Alex turned and followed Naomi and Marek up the open stairs to their bedrooms.

Naomi paused on a step, waiting for Alex to catch up. “You looked like you wanted to stay there with Logan.”

“It’s complicated,” replied Alex.

Naomi grinned. “You and your sister always make it so, but it’s actually quite simple.”

“He’s covered in blood right now. He had to sneak into our suite from the outside so the hotel staff wouldn’t spread gossip that we’re here.”

“But he won’t be covered in blood the next time you see him.”

Alex gave her a hard look. “He’s an assassin. I think I can expect a good amount of blood.”

“And you’re a monster-hunting mercenary. He can expect a good amount of monster blood and guts. I don’t think he minds.” Naomi winked. “Would you like to borrow something slutty to wear when we all wake up? I can even lock Marek in his room while you make the move on your sexy assassin.”

Marek, who was a few steps ahead of them, paused to look back, his hazel eyes narrowed to slits. “Why do I have the feeling that you two are talking about me?”

“Go on.” Naomi waved him forward. “This is girl talk. No boys allowed.”

He shook his head, muttered something incomprehensibly British, then kept walking.

“What do you say?” Naomi whispered to Alex.

“About locking Marek in his room? I say that what you two do behind closed doors isn’t any of my business.”

Naomi snorted. “Me? With Marek?” She shifted her gaze forward. “Not that he isn’t good looking. And right now I am appreciating the pretty spectacular view of his ass in those jeans.”

“Oh?” Alex bit her lip to keep from laughing. “You should tell him.”

“And inflate his ego even more? No chance.” Naomi wiggled her magically-perfect blonde eyebrows. “Besides, he’s into my cousin.” She wrapped her arm around Alex. “In any case, I wasn’t talking about Marek. I was referring to my offer to loan you some slutty things to wear in front of your boyfriend.”

“Thanks, but I have plenty of slutty things in my own closet.”

Naomi chuckled. “Of course. Not like Sera. We really need to take that girl shopping. I have a feeling her dragon shifter boyfriend appreciates lace lingerie.”

“I wonder if assassins appreciate lace lingerie too. Logan certainly seemed interested in them when he was teasing me by going through my underwear drawer in front of me.”

Naomi’s eyes flashed from pale blue to amethyst-purple. “May I offer a suggestion?”

“Sure.”

“No underwear.”

Alex chewed that over. “Ah, that does make sense. Assassins are orderly folks. They wouldn’t appreciate panty lines.”

“Definitely. And, you know, I bet assassins are also into other things.”

“Like chains?” Alex asked drily.

Naomi grinned. “You read my mind. S&M. It’s like M&Ms—with half the calories.”

The statement was so ridiculous—and Naomi’s expression was so ripe with wicked mischief as she said it—that Alex couldn’t help but to break out laughing. Naomi joined in. Marek stopped in front of the first bedroom and pivoted around to face them.

“I don’t want to know what you two are so giddy about, do I?”

“Definitely not,” Naomi said, passing him to enter the second room. Right before she closed the door after her, she threw Alex a final conspiring wink.

Half-dead, Alex stumbled down the hall to the third bedroom, dropped onto the softest bed she’d ever been swallowed by, then fell asleep.

CHAPTER TEN

Breakfast at Noon

AS USUAL, THE dreams came almost as soon as Alex’s head hit the pillow. She was running down the streets of some generic European city. It could have been anywhere. Vampires—dozens and dozens of black-cloaked vampires that flooded the streets like armies of cockroaches—were chasing her.

Or so they thought.

As the narrow street opened up into a wide, open park, Alex pivoted around. She was wearing a cloak too. As crimson as blood, it flapped and crackled in the wind. Steel sang as she drew her sword and began cutting through the vampires surrounding her.