The Darkest Assassin (Lords of the Underworld 14.6)

Recalling how easily Bjorn had knocked her out, she alternated between rage…and awe. Few combatants had the skill to take her down so swiftly. But then, she’d arrived fresh from another battle, compromised emotionally, and bare-ass naked.

The taste of blood coated her tongue, and she realized she’d been biting the inside of her cheek. Okay, waiting for her mind to clear wasn’t going to work for Fox. She needed action, and she needed it now.

She eased to her feet and shouted, “Bjorn! Show yourself, you coward.”

“Coward?” He materialized just outside of her cell and stepped from a cluster of shadows.

How long had he been there? How had he hidden so well? And how did she feel about being secretly watched by him? Not excited, that was for sure. Nope. Definitely not.

“We fought,” he said. “I won. I didn’t kill you while you slept. Now, your every breath belongs to me.”

Oh, man, he looked good. Really good. He’d showered and changed into a clean robe. On most Sent Ones, the fabric remained loose. On Bjorn, the fabric pulled taut over his chest and biceps. Golden wings arched over magnificently broad shoulders. Locks of bronzed hair stuck out in spikes, those rainbow eyes gleaming with smug satisfaction. The bastard had her right where he wanted her.

Grinding her teeth, she said, “You should have killed me when you had the chance. I won’t give you another one.”

He hiked up a shoulder, unconcerned. “I don’t need you to give me anything. I can and will kill you any time of my choosing.”

No, not good enough. “You’ve already made the decision to do it. So. Go ahead. Do it.”

“First, I have questions for you.”

His tone tightened at the end of his statement, a sign she wasn’t going to like what he asked.

“I have questions for you, too.” Feigning nonchalance, she eased onto the edge of the cot. Anything to bide her time and figure out a game plan. Like…draw him inside the cell, kill him with his own weapon and flee? Done!

More Sent Ones would come after her, of course, but at least she’d be free. But…

Part of her didn’t want to harm the Sent One. Well. That’s new. She had a rule: always kill the one trying to kill you. But Bjorn wasn’t doing this for a payout or even revenge. Okay, he might be doing this for revenge. Mostly, he was following his leader’s order to punish the one who’d devastated their species. So. Killing him would be Plan B. Fingers crossed she created a stellar Plan A. Because…

She didn’t want to kill him. He was the first male to make her shiver in…ever.

I…desire him? Sexually?

In the past, when hungering for a man, she’d picked one. They’d share a couple of weeks together, and she’d moved on. She never slept with a potential target, and she never slept with an enemy.

To Fox, men were like toilet paper. Necessary for a moment, but happily discarded after use. Too many lied, stole or cheated. Who was she supposed to trust?

“Very well,” Bjorn finally said, nodding for emphasis. “We will converse as comrades…for a bit. I ask, you answer. And in return, I’ll do the same for you.”

Ugh. Did he have to be so reasonable? “I also have statements for you,” she said. “I’ll start with this one. Galen will come for you and yours. One by one, you’ll all die screaming.”

Shrug. “He can come, but he won’t be the one doing the killing.” Bjorn stepped closer and leaned against the bars, the sensuality of his movements mesmerizing.

Focus up. Ogle her captor—more than she already had? No, thanks. “Go ahead. Gentlemen first.”

“Why did you murder the ten?” He pushed the words through teeth as gritted as her own. “At our first meeting, you eluded to the demon’s dark influence, but I wish to hear a play-by-play of your thought process.”

Knew he’d go there. She opted to tell him the truth. “The moment I spotted the ten, Distrust began whispering his poison, reminding me the warriors were demon assassins, telling me they’d come for me and my friends and if I wanted my loved ones to survive, I had to strike first. The next thing I knew, the Sent Ones were dead, their bodies piled around me.”

Despite the savagery of her words, he did not alter his expression or evince a single emotion.

“And I know, I know,” she said. “I can’t blame Distrust, because I willingly welcomed the fiend inside me.” A point she could not refute then, now, or ever. She—ow! She winced as a sharp pain sprang from her head wound.

Bjorn, being Bjorn, offered, “If you are in pain, we can postpone our conversation.”

A kindness from him, his concern for an enemy commendable. But also, useful. Had she just found the way to lure him in? “I’m in pain, yes,” she said. The truth, only exaggerated. Playing her part, she rubbed her temples.

“I’m glad you hurt,” he grated, dashing her hopes.

She jolted as if he’d punched her. Sent Ones could not lie. He’d meant what he said. He wanted her to hurt. Can you blame him? Irritated with him, and herself, she gave up temple-rubbing and resettled on the cot, getting as comfortable as possible. “You can go now.”

He dropped his chin to his sternum, those rainbow eyes growing more intense by the second. “Do you think you deserve punishment for your crimes?”

Ouch. No matter how she responded to that one, she would sound like a total bitch. “You’ll believe me, whatever I say?”

“Yes.” Offered without hesitation.

Why would—? Oh, right. Sent Ones could taste lies when others spoke them. “Why do you want to know? Will the answer change your mind about me?”

“No. You will die, no matter your opinion.”

Yeah, exactly as she’d suspected. “I do believe I deserve punishment. What I did was reprehensible, and I regret it with every fiber of my being. But I’m still going to kill you and anyone else who comes after me.”

He blinked, surprised, then pivoted on his heel and paced before the bars of her cell. “Any last words?”

Their gazes met. She unveiled a slow, wicked grin and stood, ri

sing from the cot to assume a battle stance: shoulders back and legs braced apart, with one positioned slightly ahead of the other. “Come in here and get me, big boy.”

To her shock, desire flared in his eyes, there and gone. The possibility sparked an equal reaction in her. First excitement she couldn’t deny, then disappointment. The desire wasn’t for her. Clearly, the man entertained a battle fetish and got turned on by any type of fight. Or did the reason go deeper?

No. No way Bjorn desired Fox, the one responsible for his pain. And he was in pain. He’d recently said goodbye to ten members of his family.

Now, her head bowed with shame. Thankfully, she rebounded quickly, stuffing the shame into the emotional lockbox, going cold once again. There. Much better. The cold was familiar, and as welcoming as a long-lost friend newly returned home.

“I do have a question,” she rasped. “Why were you chosen as my assassin?”

“I am always chosen for this type of case, because I do not care why something was done, only that it was, in fact, done.”

“Motive should matter. Intent, too.”

“Why?”

The simplest and most complex question of all time. “Because…just because! Someone who doesn’t intend to cause pain should not be lumped with the ones who do intend to cause pain.”

He ran his tongue over his teeth. “You hope to convince me you did not mean to cause the ten pain? That will—” Suddenly, he went still, his muscles bulging with tension. The overhead bulb flickered, darkness chasing away light, then light chasing away darkness. Just outside her cell, a thick, black cloud rolled through the corridor.

The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention, as if a great and terrible evil had just neared. A reaction usually reserved for a prince of darkness. “What’s happening?”

Bjorn’s tension redoubled, then redoubled again. His breaths turned shallow. Panic lit his eyes before he blanked his expression. “Stay silent, no matter what you behold, hear, or smell. Draw no attention to yourself.”