HardJustice (5 page)

Ben chuckled, but Layla had an idea forming in her wicked
brain. Scooting back, she inserted her thigh between Ben’s legs, pried his
knees apart and slowly ran her body down his as she lowered her knees to the
floor. Making certain her breasts pressed against every inch of his chest as
she made her way down, she strung kisses on the small sections of skin his clothes
exposed—his neck, his collarbone—until she paused to unfasten the fly of his
jeans.

Dipping her hands inside his pants, she pulled his shaft
free. His head was already slickly coated in clear, moist pre-cum. She licked
her tongue over his head, circling around him to gather every drop of the
luscious fluid.

“Wait, babe, what are you—
Circe
,” he groaned. She
sucked his cock deeply into her mouth until his plump head butted against the
back of her neck. Relaxing her muscles, she swallowed around him, taking him as
deeply into her throat as possible.

Bobbing her head up and down, she flicked her tongue along
the sensitive skin of his shaft, stimulating every nerve along the way. Ben
moaned at her actions, both hands fisting in her head as he cradled her scalp
in his large palms.

“Oh, babe. Fuck. Yeah, just like that,” he murmured. Layla
lifted her eyes as he fucked her throat deeply. She watched each expression
cross his face, relished the pleasure she could bring to him.

“Careful. Oh babe, I’m so close.” His breath hitched and a
look of painful rapture flitted over his face. His eyes screwed shut, his back
and neck arched as he pulled her head farther down so he could fuck her in
earnest.

Feeling the trembling in his cock, she stroked her fingers
over the thin, sensitive skin of his balls. As she’d hoped, the extra
stimulation helped nudge him over the edge. Warm seed erupted from his head.
Breathing steadily, she swallowed the salty cum down as he thrust into her
mouth with hard jerks of his hips.

As she pressed her tongue against his length, she stroked
him, his shudders evident as she caressed his cock. Swallowing convulsively,
she hummed in satisfaction as he emptied his essence into her. Tiny sparks from
his fingertips vibrated against her skin as he massaged her head.

Slowly he came down from his peak. Sighing with bliss, he
collapsed, boneless, back into the soft cushions of the couch. Feeling
justifiably smug to her own mind, she bobbed her head a few times, stroking her
tongue out over his depleting cock. Lifting her head and licking her lips, she
grinned at Ben. His eyes glanced over her lazily, satisfaction glinting in his
dark depths.

“You look incredibly pleased with yourself,” his tone was
thick. Layla climbed back up into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.
Kissing him slowly, she let him taste himself.

“Mmm,” she murmured as she pulled back. “You were the one to
bring up feeling like a randy teenager. What could be better than giving you
every adolescent’s fantasy of a quick sucking off on the couch?”

“You’re dangerous, witch,” Ben said, the comment clearly a
compliment. “I can’t ever get enough of you.”

They kissed hungrily. Layla knew she’d never get enough of
Ben, either. Her temperature rose as they continued to pet each other, until
finally she had to pull away, her cheeks hotly flushed, her nipples tightly
pressed against the lace of her bra and her body slick with need.

“If we don’t stop soon…” she let her words trail off. Ben
didn’t listen but merely unsnapped the fly of her jeans. “Ben,” she moaned,
caught between stopping him and urging him to return the favor.

He appeared determined on his chosen course. His fingers
dipped inside her lacy thong, pushing aside the scrap as he stroked the pad of
his finger over her clit. Layla arched up into him, pleasure shooting through
her body as he touched her masterfully. Ben pushed three thick digits inside
her weeping pussy as he continued to tweak her clit with his other hand.

She was already unbearably aroused, and his talented fingers
made short work of her. He hungrily kissed down her neck as she panted and
tried to muffle her moans of need. Incoherent half-words fell from her lips as
she pleaded for more. Lifting herself and thrusting back on his plunging
fingers, she fucked herself on his hands, desperately striving for her release.

She muffled her scream into the flesh of his shoulder as he
lightly pinched her clit, the sensual overload crashing through her as she came
in a rush. Grinding her hips down, he fucked her hard with his fingers, reaming
her pussy as he thrust in and out of her with a ferocious pace. Gasping for air,
she shuddered, her body contracting as the adrenaline of release washed through
her.

Their bodies pressed together, Layla rested her head on Ben’s
shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. Not needing any words, she was
content to sit there and bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking. She felt
replete, utterly at peace. It was as if everything were perfect and she had
found her special wizard, the one with whom she could spend the rest of her
life with.

She knew in moments they would need to plan their next
steps, but for now she wanted to indulge in the private, intimate moment with
her lover.

* * * * *

Layla looked up as Damon entered the room. She and Ben had
only just sat back down after setting their clothes to rights. Had the Healer
walked in a minute or two earlier, he’d have received an eyeful of them being
in decadent disarray.

“How’s Riley?” she asked. Damon sank into an overstuffed
armchair with evident relief.

“He’ll be okay,” Damon replied. “He’s bound and determined
to get back up again and Track whoever it was who singed him. I have to tell
you what I warned him just a minute ago—that person has power and meant
business. That was not a happy, cheerful casting the assailant used. Do I even
want to know what mess you’re all in?”

“I think that will be a story best told when it’s over,” Ben
said as he cast a curious glance to Layla. “Unless you really want to know. We
owe you for helping Riley, but I’d hate to drag anyone else into this.”

“I might wait for the hindsight version over a drink or two
one evening in the future,” Damon decided. “I can tell you, though, Riley will
likely get tired easily. His energy is pretty depleted. He could have lost his
leg had the damage been worse. I’ve told him to take it easy, but he seems to
be a wizard of singular stubbornness.”

“Will he make himself worse if we let Riley move about? I
can’t lie to you, Damon, I’d love for Riley to Track this guy. But if it’s
going to cost him too much I can try and bully him to resting for now,” Ben
said, his face reflecting the serious tone of his voice.

“I’ve managed to heal the worst of the muscle damage, and
his skin has healed nicely, in that respect he truly was lucky. The spell only
grazed him,” Damon began. “But having said that, if Riley pushes too hard too
fast he might need a lot more help and extend his full recuperation time.”

“We’ll make sure he doesn’t overdo it,” Layla promised. She
glanced at Ben and he nodded.

“Anyone would think I was four years old again and had just
fallen out of a tree,” Riley grumbled as he tenderly limped into the room. He
eased himself down into the other overstuffed chair and huffed out a breath.

“This time I plan to be far more prepared,” he insisted. “I’ll
be standing
behind
the big guy over here. Luckily we should be able to
take the bastard by surprise this time. No way will he know I’m a Tracker. If
we can get onto it soon enough I can follow his trail and lead us right to him.
Ben can subdue him, glare at him and we can find out who he works for.”

“Don’t forget what I said about running on adrenaline,”
Damon cautioned. “You’ll think you’re fine, maybe you won’t even feel pain in
your leg. But once you sit down you’ll crash. You won’t feel it or notice how
hard you’ve pushed yourself until it’s too late and you’ve maybe hurt yourself
again.”

“I’ll let Ben here do all the hard work,” Riley insisted.

“Tell you what, let me go grab a poultice for you,” Damon
stood up and left the room. They waited and a moment later he returned with a
small, tightly wrapped ball in a leather bag. Damon handed it to Riley.

“When you’ve caught the bad guy, got the information you
need and called the Enforcers and handed him over—or whatever you’ll do—when
you manage to sit down and be driven back to your place, take that out of the
bag and spread it thickly over the entirety of the wound.”

Riley opened up the leather bag and sniffed, making a
comically disgusted face.

“If it didn’t smell so bad it wouldn’t be good for you,”
Damon insisted. “Come see me again if you’re not noticeably better in a few
days.”

Ben and Layla stood up. Layla crossed the room to wrap Damon
in a large, warm hug.

“Thank you so much.” She squeezed her friend tightly and he
hugged her in return. “I appreciate this.”

“Take care, you three, okay?” Damon shook hands with Ben and
Riley. They walked to the door. Layla noticed Riley still limped, but his face
no longer twisted in pain and he was able to support himself—albeit tenderly.

“If you can drive us back to the cottage and maybe circle
the side streets without bringing us to the attention of the Enforcers I should
be able to sit in the passenger seat and pick up the trail,” Riley said as they
made their way back to Ben’s car.

“I have energy bars in the glove box,” Ben said as he
unlocked the car.

Riley sighed but didn’t argue as he carefully lowered
himself into the passenger seat. Layla climbed in the back as Ben slid behind
the wheel. Riley placed the small leather pouch in the glove box then snapped
it shut. They buckled up and Ben twisted the key in the ignition. They pulled
away from the curb and retraced their steps back to the cottage.

“There, unit B,” Riley pointed. Ben worried as he noticed
the thin sheen of sweat on his friend’s brow, but the wizard refused to acknowledge
he grew close to his limits. Not ashamed to use underhand tactics to coerce
Riley into taking it easy, Ben leaned close to his friend.

“Can you stay out here? Protect Layla while I go in and
subdue the wizard?”

Riley opened his mouth with a frown. Ben cut in with a
serious, “Please.” Riley closed his mouth again. Ben didn’t doubt the wizard
knew he was being played, but Ben was not completely using the witch as an
excuse.

He hated the thought of her entering the apartment directly
behind him. Not only because of the danger she would be in, but also because
this time he didn’t plan to hold back. Deep in his soul, there was a core of
violence Ben had spent decades restraining. His magic in its naked, raw form
was the ability to maim, destroy and kill. When unleashed, he became socially
unacceptable to say the least.

He was not some fluffy bunny to cuddle, cosset and take home
to Mom and Dad to show off or be proud of coupling with. He was a killer. An
Assassin. He had an unyielding aspect to his soul that most witches ran
screaming from when they caught sight of it.

Even though he’d spent only a few days in Layla’s presence,
he wasn’t yet ready to share that less tasteful side of himself with her. In
his heart, he knew she deserved better than him, she should really be with some
happy, placid, regular wizard and not a hardened killer like himself. Selfishly
he wasn’t prepared to give her up. Not yet and maybe not ever.

He didn’t want to think about how she’d react when she saw
his true soul. It was inevitable, he knew that, but it didn’t mean he would
knowingly, purposefully rub her face in it either.

Some of his secret feelings must have shown on his face, for
Riley nodded, albeit with clear reluctance.

“Sure, dude, I’ll wait out here with her. Call us when you
have the situation under control.”

Ben leaned past Riley and planted a kiss on Layla’s lips.
For
luck
, he told himself, though it could just as easily be for safety as the
devout hope she wouldn’t turn away from him if she saw his true colors. She
seemed puzzled, but he didn’t get the feeling she understood his deeper reasons
for not wanting her to follow him into the apartment.

A part of him prayed she never would see the darker side to
him.

Ben stalked toward the front door to apartment B. He closed
his eyes and took a few deep, cleansing breaths. He focused on removing the
walls and barriers he had spent months learning to erect in his youth, all the
trappings of civilized behavior he had learned and the lessons in common
etiquette and courtesy. Ben lowered his defenses and allowed the ravenous,
deadly desires that clawed his soul constantly to come into the fore.

Anger, hatred and his killer instinct leapt at the chance to
finally be unleashed. Ben felt himself change. He crouched a few inches lower
as he balanced himself on the balls of his feet in an eager, fighting stance.
He knew if he had a mirror his face would appear etched in perpetual challenge,
spoiling for a fight and a chance to shed blood.

The hunger to fight, to win, to beat any and all opposition
burned within him. He unleashed the demon he believed his soul held, trapped in
the physical body of a mere wizard. Power sang through his veins, the bloodlust
—always so close to the surface—spread its wings, ready to take flight. He readied
himself for battle, a small corner of his brain hoping he could pull himself
back when it became necessary.

His greatest fear was that one day he wouldn’t be able to
tie the beast down and return to his “normal” self.

The demon shredded the thought, hissing malevolently in his
ear. Ben flexed his fingers, his magic rising as his skin glowed with the rush
of his power. From the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Layla. The
demon chortled, licking his lips hungrily. Ben wrestled the thought away, not
wanting to expose the witch more than he already had.

He knew he would lose his soul should he harm her in any
way. Ben planned to keep the demon as far from her as possible.

With an angry snarl he took two long strides, lifted his
booted foot and kicked the door to splinters. The angry
snap
of the wood
fed the beast within him. Roaring free, he stormed into the apartment, his gaze
racing through the room like a laser. The sound of movement caught his
attention and Ben ran into the kitchen.

A tall, slender wizard with a mop of unruly dark hair gaped
at him, anger quickly replacing his initial look of fear. Ben didn’t give him
another moment to react. Closing the distance between them in a few giant paces,
he reached one power-coated hand out and grabbed the wizard by the neck.

The momentum from his strides carried them both another few
paces, Ben lifting the other wizard off his feet, stretching his neck to a
dangerous degree. He tried to rein himself in, reminding his tempestuous demon
that killing this one and only link would ruin all their plans.

Ben crashed them both into the back wall, the wizard
flinching as his back rammed into the hard surface. Only the last-minute
warning to himself stopped Ben from breaking the other man’s back. He growled
at the wizard, the deep, booming sound of his voice filling the room in an
unmistakable, angry snarl.

“Who hired you?” The wizard reeked of fear, the scent
causing his bloodlust to rise hungrily. “You just killed two witches, one of
them Britney Joddins. I need to know who. Hired. You.”

“It was just a contract, man,” the wizard stammered. “Nothing
personal. I swear. If you were banging the witch I’m sorry. Truly.”

Gasping for air, the wizard clawed at the single hand Ben
held him with. Ignoring the tiny pricks as the killer scraped his skin, Ben
slapped the wizard’s face with his other hand.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he purred. The demon almost
in control of him now, Ben tried to wrestle against the urge to torture the
information out of the wizard. He reminded himself Layla stood outside the
smashed door, and that soon he would need to be fit to return to her. The anger
in his soul howled at this, but gave him some breathing room.

He lifted him higher and the wizard choked as his weight
dragged his body down despite Ben holding him by the neck. Ben calculated the
exact moment before the wizard would pass out, blood suffusing his face as he
ran out of oxygen. Lowering him at the last possible second, he snapped at the
terrified man.

“Who fucking hired you? I could happily make this a whole
lot more painful if that’s the way you want to play. I’m a lot better at this
game than you, you’re just a dabbler, a cheap trick to hire when a bit of flash
and knife work is needed. I’m the real deal and I’m happy to spend the next few
hours proving so to you.”

“All right!” the man squealed, his legs kicking out as he
tried to touch his toes to the floor. “All right. It was Jimmy McRoy. He’s a
fixer I’ve done some kneecapping for. You can find him down at the Lost Soul
every evening. His ass has worn a groove in the barstool.”

Ben leaned in so he was only an inch away from the wizard’s
pale, clammy face.

“I can Track you anywhere, buddy,” he intoned in a low,
scary voice. “Even when the Enforcers come to collect you, I can still get to
you. Anytime. Anywhere. Are you certain this Jimmy McRoy is who I’m searching
for? This is your last chance.”

The wizard nodded as best he could. Dark strands of hair
fell over his eyes.

“He is, I swear.”

“Then we’re done here. For now, at least,” Ben said as he
released his hand with a sudden flex. The wizard sank to the ground in an
ungainly heap. Ben spoke a single word, a familiar incantation that created a
long coil of magical rope. He restrained the wizard where he sat—wrists,
elbows, ankles, thighs and around his chest—binding him to a pipe on the
radiator that hung on the wall. Pulling out his handkerchief, Ben gagged the
wizard and left the room without a backward glance.

Pausing in the living room for a moment, he closed his eyes
to focus better and forced his breathing to slow. Piece by piece, he bricked up
the demon once again, putting his perfectly constructed social façade back into
effect. His blood still hummed with the latent energy of his magic, the rush
from unleashing himself so completely not a simple thing to switch off and on
again.

He waited until he felt certain the beast no longer lurked
in his eyes, properly restrained. Ben could feel the itchy anger claw at him,
but with years of long experience he beat it back. That part of him howled for
blood, to kill and kill until he was sated, but this wasn’t the time. Ben had
no doubt that should he murder the wizard in cold blood he could not walk out
to Layla, stained and tainted like that. She would cower or turn away in disgust,
and rightly so.

Being an Assassin was one thing. Relishing the kills,
wallowing in the blood and thoroughly enjoying himself, that was something
else. Something he had learned long ago that it was not socially acceptable to
feel or relish. And so he pulled himself back from temptation, time after time.

He didn’t feel calm, but once he had regained control of
himself, Ben crossed to the small table alongside one wall, picked up the phone
and dialed a number from memory.

“Cranston,” the wizard answered briefly. Ben took a
steadying breath, the bloodlust and anger still lurking too close to the
surface for his peace of mind.

“Daniel, it’s Ben. How are you?”

The question was not merely his manners coming through. The
two men were friends, albeit loose ones. Daniel Cranston was another Assassin
Ben had worked with in the past. Cranston had also consulted on a number of
occasions with the Enforcers, the relationship proving mutually beneficial. A
while ago Daniel had ended up partnering with another Assassin—Melissa Geyton.

In the beginning there had been many sparks from what
Cranston had confided to Ben. Assassins were by necessity often solitary,
difficult creatures. Ben knew they all walked a fine edge in their own way,
dealing with their magic and what they did on a regular basis in their own
individual manner. Friendships were rare, and being close in a “normal” sense
even more difficult. It took a unique Mage to understand the depths many
Assassins fought with.

So he did not ask his friend how he went as an automatic,
general question, but a truthful offering to share.

“I’m good,” Daniel replied with as much warmth as Ben had
ever heard from him. “How are you? It’s been a while.”

The small chide was not a barb, but more an opening.

“I’m…I’ve been better but been far worse,” Ben replied
truthfully. “I have a few things to get through and not much time. Please
forgive me if I’m short just now. Firstly, do you still have your connections
in the Enforcers?”

“Of course, what do you need?”

“I’m currently in the residence of a…what was the term you
used to use?” Ben felt immense relief as some humor cracked through his
reserve. Talking to his friend—even over the phone—helped him feel more
himself. “Ah yes, a person of interest. I presume you know of the murder an
hour or so ago of two witches? Britney Joddins and a witch I presume was her
mother?”

“My, my, you do get around,” Cranston teased. Ben didn’t
need to see his friend’s face to hear his intent interest. “Tell me everything.”

Ben listed the address of the apartment.

“You’ll find him in the kitchen, thoroughly restrained and
only slightly bruised,” Ben offered.

“I’m impressed. Clearly you restrained yourself. Consider it
done. What else can I help you with?”

“I’ll need you to keep this between us for now,” Ben paused
while Daniel assured him that was fine. “Britney Joddins was dating Miles
Lancaster, the wizard who met an untimely end a few days ago. This is all
wrapped up in a friend of mine, Rob Padden, being unfairly tried for treason.
Actually, it was Miles who leaked the information, and he fingered the fact
there were Council members involved. We’ve been investigating it and being led
on a merry dance.”

“And now you have a lead?” Daniel concluded.

“Yes, Jimmy McRoy at the Lost Soul,” Ben confirmed. “This
has been quite a messy business, these people are not afraid to get their hands
dirty or kill others. It’s not something I’m taking lightly anymore. I could
use some help.”

“Melissa and I would be delighted to help,” Daniel offered before
Ben could even ask. He felt relief at his friend’s instant acquiesce.

“There’s one last thing,” Ben said hesitantly. Daniel
mistook his pause for needing reassurance.

“Name it,” he said promptly. Ben struggled to find the
words.

“There’s an Investigator, a witch who…who I am very fond of.
We’ve only known each other a brief time but…” Ben couldn’t believe how he
struggled for words, unclear exactly how to even express the depth of emotion
he already felt for Layla.

“Ah,” Daniel said, his simple statement summing up a wealth
of understanding both men could agree on. “I was like that too, from the moment
I laid eyes on Mel.”

“I don’t want her to see my true working face, not yet and
possibly not ever,” Ben grappled for the right words. “I never thought I’d feel
like this. With others it’s been so easy to separate the work from the private.
But with Layla, I don’t want her to be repulsed.”

“There has to be something similar in all Assassins to do
what we do,” Daniel said in a soft tone. The joviality had gone to be replaced
with an icy calm. Where Ben knew his demon raged and burned, Daniel could
freeze anything, going to a cool, calculated, private space different yet
eerily identical to the one Ben knew resided in him.