Marked by an Assassin (18 page)

Harbin was an enemy, a danger to her, and the quicker she realised that, the better. She couldn’t trust him. He made a living deceiving people in order to kill them. He wasn’t the male she had grown up with, the one who had never stopped smiling and had relished every challenge the mountains had thrown at him, tackling it with glee. He was no longer carefree and full of light and laughter.

He was darkness embodied, dangerous and deadly, a shadow of the male he had once been.

He would kill her, because she was a job to him. That was the only reason he had followed her into Archangel. It hadn’t been to protect her and ensure that she was safe, not as a male of his status should have behaved. It hadn’t been to be near to her and comfort her to ease her fears, as a lover would have chosen.

It had been to be near to her so he could find an opportunity to end her.

Aya turned, flicked all the locks and slid the chains into place, and kicked off her boots. She shirked her jacket as she turned away from the door in her dark apartment and tossed it over the back of her couch to her left, and tugged her jumper off. The air was chilly in the apartment, her grey t-shirt offering her little protection from the cold, but she didn’t care. She was used to temperatures far below what London felt even in deepest winter.

Her gaze roamed to the clock above the TV on the far wall, her sensitive eyes able to make out the hands in the darkness. It was late, already creeping into the next day. She yawned as her strength faded, the constant adrenaline rush of walking the streets and being on alert for both Archangel and Harbin leaving her drained and weary.

She glanced at the couch and TV to her left, and then at the door in the wall to her right, and couldn’t stop her feet from carrying her towards it. Bed was too appealing, even when she knew she wouldn’t find the rest she needed. Harbin would haunt her sleep, and she would wake feeling more fatigued than ever, but it would end tonight.

Tomorrow, she would call Cavanaugh and she would make him tell her everything.

She would finally discover the truth.

She stripped off as she walked into her bedroom, leaving her clothes in a trail on the floor, and grabbed her small cream satin nightie as she passed it where it lay strewn on her dressing table. She slipped into it, yawned again, and flopped onto her bed. The thick duvet was a comfort, cushioning her and immediately making the tension flow from her limbs.

Another yawn pushed free and she sank into her bed, her focus slipping as sleep caught hold of her and pulled her down into the darkness.

She would talk to Cavanaugh tomorrow, she would learn the truth about that night twenty years ago, and then she would ask him to speak with his brother and convince him to drop his mission.

The comforting arms of sleep wrapped around her and she drifted in them for a time, suspended in the peaceful darkness, her mind slowly emptying.

Harbin refused to leave it.

He wavered in front of her, staring at her as he had in the room, dressed in only a black pair of trunks, his body on full display for her eyes. They delighted in roaming his compact muscles as they flexed beneath his skin, barely an ounce of fat on him, all lean power that called to her most feminine instincts.

Wild silver hair begged her fingers to brush through it, to tease it with a soft caress before tugging on it, giving him a brief flash of pain and her strength.

Sharp silver eyes locked on her, intense and focused, drilling into her and heating her wherever they touched. They drifted over her, the black chasms of his pupils growing wider as he lowered his focus to her breasts and then the swell of her hips.

Hunting her.

Her every instinct screamed it at her, but it didn’t make her scared this time.

It thrilled her.

There was desire in that look, hunger that matched her own, or maybe even surpassed it. It was need that spoke to her, coaxed her into taking a step towards him. His eyes darted up to hers, widening slightly before narrowing into a wicked look, one that made her heart skip a beat and then thump ever harder against her chest, until her head swam and she felt sure she would pass out.

He advanced on her, each slow step ratcheting up the heat flooding her veins, fanning the embers of her desire back into an inferno that burned her resolve to ashes.

Long, powerful legs easily ate the distance between them, each stride coming faster, until he was running at her.

She pressed back against the cool wall, her breaths coming quicker too, until she was panting, aching for him to reach her.

He stretched out a hand to her and disappeared as the room melted away, blinding white light drowning it out.

Aya turned, breathing hard, her eyes darting around as she searched for Harbin.

Only empty white greeted her wherever she looked, blurring together into nothingness.

Hot breath fanned across her neck, a thousand tingles dancing down her spine in response and making her shudder in pleasure.

She tried to turn but strong hands clamped down on her upper arms, freezing her in place. She struggled and then gave up the fight, moaning as he stepped into her, his lean muscular body pressing against her back, his groin nestled against her bottom.

Naked.

She felt exposed and vulnerable, but it lasted only a heartbeat, the time that it took for him to lower his lips to her neck and press a kiss to the nape.

A groan escaped her as her eyes slipped shut, hot pleasure rolling down her spine. He moaned with her, his breath moist on her skin, cranking up the bliss flowing through her. His fingers tightened against her arms and he moved closer, and her eyes shot open as she felt the hot, hard press of his cock against her lower back.

His deep, guttural groan of pleasure as he dipped his body and rubbed himself against her had her eyes falling closed again and her breath rushing from her as her body heated, burning at a thousand degrees. Fire blazed in her belly and lower, and she couldn’t stop herself from arching her back and grinding against him.

One callused hand slid around her front, coming to cup her left breast, and she gasped and then moaned as he palmed it before thumbing her nipple, sending sparks shooting outwards from the stiffening peak. The heat travelled lower, turning her body liquid. She wriggled her hips, feeling the slide of desire between them, her need that she knew he could sense, because she could feel his too.

It wasn’t just the demanding press of his cock between her buttocks that told her of it. It ran deeper. In her blood.

In her soul.

Her male hungered, and gods, she hungered too.

He growled, the sound sending another thrill through her, and she didn’t stop him when he grasped her hair with his right hand, lifting it away from the nape of her neck and pinning it against her head, forcing it forwards. She whimpered as he tongued her nape and teased with a swift brush of blunt fangs. The slickness between her thighs grew with each sensual glide of his mouth over that spot, each wicked tease that tortured her and had her writhing against him, aching with her need.

His left hand dropped from her breast and trailed lower, and she willed it onwards, over her rounded belly to the point where she needed him. His masculine groan of pleasure as he sucked on her neck, thrust his thick cock between her buttocks, and skirted the thatch of silver hair between her legs made her knees weaken and her breath come quicker still.

She opened her mouth to utter his name, to beg him to give her what she needed from him.

His fingertips brushed lower, briefly dipped between her wet folds and pressed against her aroused nub.

She barked out a moan as bliss rippled through her and then growled as he stole it away, removing his hand from between her thighs.

His answering growl made her quiver and melt, and rub against him, desperately coaxing him into surrendering to his desire.

She gasped when he grabbed her left thigh and yanked it up, exposing her to the air that had suddenly turned frigid.

She opened her eyes and they widened as she took in the familiar mountains towering over her and the endless pristine snow. She didn’t feel the cold as she stared at her frigid homeland. The heat of his body kept it from hers. His hips slid lower and her breath hitched as his lips stilled against the nape of her neck and she felt the press of his fangs. Her primal instincts warned what was coming, and a trickle of fear ran through her.

The blunt head of his cock nudged between her thighs.

The sharp points of his fangs pressed against her neck, in the spot where he would bite when he claimed her as his mate.

He growled.

Aya shot up in bed as her instincts blared an alarm, and it took her a moment to gather her senses and realise that it wasn’t the threat of Harbin claiming her as his mate that had awoken her.

She shrieked and rolled off the left side of the bed as a man clad in black made a lunge for her, landed hard on her knees on the floor and shot to her feet.

Another male closed in on her, and neither smelled of Archangel.

They smelled of death.

Aya’s heart burst into overdrive and she turned towards the sash window and shoved it up so hard that the glass fractured. She didn’t hesitate as the cold night air rushed into the room. She pressed one foot to the sill and leaped out of the window, plummeting towards the hard tarmac in the alley below.

The shift was swift to come, fur rippling over her skin as her bones distorted, pain rushing through her as they shrank or grew, cracking as they formed new shapes. Her tail sprang from the base of her spine, her nose flattened and grew wider, and her ears turned rounded and moved upwards as her shift completed, turning her into a sleek snow leopard.

She twisted in the air, the wind whipping through her thick silver fur as she dropped, seeking a perfect landing.

She wasn’t quick enough.

She cried out as she landed hard on the quiet road, fire sprinting up her limbs.

She had to run.

Aya kicked off and whimpered again as her right hind leg protested. She gritted her sharp teeth and growled through the pain. She couldn’t let it slow her down. The men would be coming for her, and death would be swift to follow.

Witches.

She would know their rank scent anywhere.

Many of their kind used hers in potions and spells, claiming their parts made the most potent ones.

The most dangerous ones.

She had learned to identify witches for that reason, not wanting to cross paths with them. She left whenever one ventured near her, slipping away before they noticed her, and avoided the fae towns where they peddled their spells.

Aya looked back up at her window.

These two felt different to the ones she had run into before though.

Darker.

More dangerous.

She had to move fast.

She lowered her gaze to the alley and froze.

The two males stood before her, identical in every way, from their long black coats that concealed their bodies to their inky black hair, and their faces and haircuts.

Twins.

No wonder her instincts were screaming they were more dangerous than any witches she had encountered before.

Twins shared magic, able to tap into each other, doubling the vast power at their disposal. They were feared by all, even other witches. When one twin was injured, the other only grew stronger, siphoning more of their sibling’s magic. The magic wanted to save itself, and would desert the weaker host, seeking the stronger one, making them even more formidable. In an attempt to protect itself, it would end up giving the stronger twin so much power that they would be able to heal their sibling without weakening themselves, giving them the ability to attack with multiple spells at the same time as they tended to their twin. Once the injured sibling was healed, the magic would split evenly between them again, until the next time one was wounded.

It was a terrible cycle of power, an infinite circle that couldn’t be broken, not even through death.

Twins had the power to become necromancers.

Raisers of the dead.

The two males stared at her, blue eyes glowing faintly in the darkness, a shimmering corona of blood around their jagged pupils warning her that she was dealing with such witches.

Aya turned tail to run the other way.

A third male stood before her.

His red eyes narrowed on her.

Her body shifted against her will, her bones blazing with crippling fire. She cried out again, the sound more human now as her face morphed back despite her attempts to hold her snow leopard form. Pain ricocheted through her, stealing her breath, and she shook from head to toe as the shift completed. She tried to move her hands but they felt as heavy as her head and all she could do was breathe and stare at the male with the red eyes.

Triplets.

It wasn’t possible.

The magic they shared would be vast. Infinite.

She managed to press her right hand to the tarmac but her strength failed her as she attempted to push herself up off it.

The male made a clucking noise with his tongue, as if her feeble attempts displeased him.

What did he want with her?

Footsteps sounded behind her, the other two males closing in. She kept her focus on the one in front of her, because he was the one in command.

The look in his eyes said that whatever they wanted, it would make the three years she had spent in captivity at Archangel look like a picnic.

Her eyelids grew heavy and fatigue rolled through her, swiftly followed by panic as she tried to remain awake. She couldn’t let them take her. She had to escape somehow.

She just wasn’t sure how.

Her eyes slipped shut again.

A scream pulled her back to the world and she stared blankly at the fight in front of her, a frenetic blur of black and silver that she found hard to follow when her mind was foggy and heavy, and sleep kept tugging her back towards the darkness.

A male bellowed in agony and she smelled blood, rich with a tang of magic. Witches. Twins. They were fighting someone. She had to escape the twins before they noticed. Her primal instincts whispered to her, correcting her and rousing her from her stupor.