Crimson Truth (Onyx Assassins 4)

“Do I smell that bad?” I teased, standing at the edge of the blanket she sat cross-legged on.

Damn, she was beautiful, her face lit ethereally by the spinning, glowing strands of a magic I would never understand. The intensity of her scent filled my lungs, and my fangs descended, hunger beating me with an aching, torturous need. Bite. Touch. Taste. Claim.

Shut the fuck up.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

My instincts were getting louder by the minute, demanding shit I had no right to even think about, but that was the thing about instincts, right? Logic and rules didn’t apply.

“I wish,” she muttered as a crystal I hadn’t seen before swirled under her fingertips, arcing in huge circles around the map.

“You wish I smelled bad?” I sank down to her eye level, balancing my bare forearms on my knees. This was as close as I could allow myself to get, or she’d be on her back in a heartbeat.

“Yep.” She popped the P at the end of the word and avoided my gaze. “It would be better than feeling like I have a permanent locator spell on you.”

My eyebrows rose.

“My magic is being a little bitch,” she muttered. “You go to the living room? I instantly know. You’re in the garage puttering with one of your cars? I know. You go to your little war room? I know because you fall off my mental map. It’s really fucking annoying. There has to be something wrong with me.”

The only thing wrong with her was that I was inside her.

“It’s probably because you have my blood in your veins,” I whispered. “You’ll always be able to track me now. It’s one of the reasons most Assassins don’t offer our veins.” She was now my weakness in more ways than one.

Her gaze flew to mine, the sight of those violet eyes sucking the breath out of my lungs just like always.

“And as for the war room, it’s because we have ruby dust in the walls. That’s why you can’t locate me, or whatever.” I shrugged.

“Oh Goddess…” She blinked twice. “That’s why I can’t find Avi. No witch or warlock would be powerful enough to continually block my spells, not unless they all took turns. But if the building she’s in has ruby dust and a witch cloaking Avi…” She all but threw the crystal onto the map in frustration. “Then this has all been a huge fucking waste of ti—what are you wearing?” Her gaze dropped from my eyes to the shirt and leathers, her jaw falling simultaneously. Her scent shifted, sweetening with arousal.

“Leathers.” A corner of my mouth lifted into a smirk at her blatant ogling as I stood to my full height. We were too close, and she smelled so fucking good that my fangs pulsed.

“I can—” she swallowed, “—see that. Why are you wearing them?” She tugged her lower lip between her teeth and every muscle in my body tightened.

“Because I had to handle a lycan matter for Conclave, and a suit wasn’t exactly conducive to getting the job done.” I’d practically begged Alek for the assignment, hoping it would take my mind off Jocelyn, but it hadn’t. I’d been distracted the entire time, as if I’d left part of my consciousness back at the manor.

“Right.” She nodded and abruptly turned away, scooting off the blanket and wrapping everything—to include the map and crystals—up in the fabric, her motions slightly frantic. “You were handling a lycan matter. That’s where you were,” she said as if she was talking to herself. She stood quickly, the blanket in her arms, and I cringed at the sound of her beloved crystals banging together.

What the hell was she pissed about now?

“Contrary to what you’ve seen, our Order has a job to do.” My brow puckered in confusion. “Jocelyn, you were fully protected the entire time I was gone. Why do you think Hawke was out here?”

Her eyes narrowed.

Wrong thing to say.

“Like I need protection?” She shifted the mess of blanket in her arms. “From who? The snotty little stuck-up vamps who keep parading by over there, hoping they’ll get a glimpse of one of you?” She nodded toward the Domum, where in fact, there were at least four females doing exactly what Jocelyn said.

“That’s not what I meant, and those females are harmless.” I tilted my head, assessing the vampires. “It’s Cassandra you have to watch out for. She’d eat her own young to get her nails into one of us.” That little conniving aristocrat was also the reason my mate would have to be able to hold her own at court. The second Cassandra realized another one of us was off the market, my mate would have a giant target on her back.

Jocelyn could take her with a snap of her fingers.

My stomach clenched. It didn’t matter who Jocelyn could handle, since I wasn’t allowed to kiss the witch, let alone mate her. Why the hell were my instincts rising for this woman?