The Darkest Assassin (Lords of the Underworld 14.6)

Desperate to touch and hold her, to beg for forgiveness, he raced closer. Halfway there, he dove and skidded across the ground. At her side, he blurted, “I’m here, vixen, I’m here.” Gently, he drew her into his arms. White-hot tears trickled dow

n his cheeks. “What did he do to you?”

Voice weak and thready, she told him, “He planned to chain me in a graveyard of souls he referred to as his spice rack. I declined. We fought. I escaped. Just don’t…don’t touch me.” She wiggled out of his embrace, and he quashed a thousand protests, each one louder than the last. “I’m here to tell you William isn’t William but Lucifer. That’s it. Now I’m leaving. If you try to stop me…don’t try to stop me, Bjorn.”

He flinched as though she’d stabbed him. The outcome of a conversation had never been as important as this one. Giving up wasn’t an option for him. “I learned the truth a few moments before your arrival. I went to William, the real William, as soon as I awoke. We fought—” Not important right now. Bjorn had a narrow window of time—very narrow—to apologize, to beg, to do whatever proved necessary to win her over. “Don’t go. Please don’t go. I must know…” What, what? “Is Lucifer dead or on your trail?”

“Not dead. Maybe on my trail. Not sure.” She rubbed her temples. “I left him chained, but I suspect he’ll escape at any moment, if he hasn’t already.”

“Do you recall where you left him?” If Lucifer was chained, there was no better time to slay him.

“I barely even have the strength to breathe.”

Another pang, this one stronger. “I’m so sorry, vixen. I saw you crouched over an unconscious Sent One, a weapon at the ready, but I should have trusted you.” He said the words loudly, for one and all to hear. “You’ve been—”

“Let me stop you there,” she snapped. “You and I are not happening. I came here to warn you, nothing else. If you don’t want me to leave, you’d better kill me, because nothing will stop me.”

Window of time—closed, locked and barred. His panic was resurrected, clawing at him once again. “I will pay you to take me to the Realm of Phantasia. Name your price.” Though decades would pass for their friends, the war in the Underworld raging without him, he would have Fox.

“No thanks. Not interested.” She offered no qualifiers, no room for negotiation.

His panic sharpened. “I’ll pay you to take me to Alana, then.” He would kill the woman, ensuring she never threatened Fox again. If he died in the process, he died. No more playing things safe. Look where he ended up when he did. “I’ll doctor your wounds and guard you while you rest.”

“No.” Again, she offered no qualifier. Eyes slitting, she dragged her tongue over her teeth. “I can doctor myself. I just need a place to hang out until I have the power to return to Galen.”

Pang, pang, pang. “You may stay in our cabin as long as you desire. Please, Fox. If you don’t want me there, I won’t come inside. I’ll remain outside and ensure no one enters without your express permission. I just need to know you’re in a safe place.”

She cast him a death-glare. When she tottered, about to pass out, he scooped her up and pushed to his feet. Once again, the Sent Ones parted, creating a pathway. The Warriors who had not attended his meetings stared at him with wide eyes and open mouths. He lifted his chin, unashamed.

Thane and Xerxes stood at the forefront, ready to stop anyone who thought to act against him.

How Bjorn thanked the Most High for those two. The worst experience of his life had led to the best friendships, something beautiful growing from something hideous. Exactly what happened with Fox. Ugly situation, exquisite love. It was time to prove his claims with action.

“This is Fox the Executioner, once a fugitive to our people,” he called as he marched on. “Like so many of us, she killed innocents while overcome by the heat of battle. Unlike us, she did it while simultaneously dealing with the demon of Distrust. She has since received forty lashes for her crime, with a whip laced with infirm?de. She also received a beating from Lucifer.” Not to mention mistrust and betrayal from Bjorn. “If the order to kill her is not rescinded—the order must be rescinded.” If not, he would fall. He’d let her down once, but never again. He would do anything to keep his vixen safe. “I love her, and I will protect her with my life. Attempt to harm her, and it will be the last thing you ever do.”

She sucked in a breath. “Y-you lie. You cannot love me.”

“I can. I do. And I will. Forever.”

Slowly she exhaled, and he began to hope…but she didn’t speak up again.

“I, too, protect Fox with my life,” Thane announced then. “A strike against her is a strike against me.”

“I protect Fox with my life,” Xerxes called, thumping a fist over his heart. “A strike against her is a strike against me.”

My most treasured friends. He’d known they would support him, no matter the path he decided to walk, but this...this went above and beyond.

Bjorn directed his next words directly to Fox, at a much softer volume. “I love you, Fox.” He didn’t try to hide the emotion, didn’t blank his expression or put up new guards because he feared she would issue another rejection. If she rejected him, she rejected him. He would deal accordingly. How she might react wouldn’t and shouldn’t dictate how he proceeded. If he wanted to keep her—and he desperately wanted to keep her—he had to risk everything.

No risk, no reward.

“I love your sense of humor,” he continued, still marching. “I love your fearlessness. I love your mind, and I love your body. I love your honesty and loyalty, both a rare and precious prize. I love your strength, and I love your vulnerability. I love your everything, and I hate the way I treated you and made you feel. You built me up, yet I tore you down.”

Though she remained silent, tremors rocked her against him. When he reached the cabin, he shouldered his way inside and carried her to their bed. As gently as possible, he laid her upon the mattress and tucked her under the covers. He sprinted to the bathroom, afraid she would tell him to leave if he took too long; he grabbed and wet a towel to gently, tenderly wipe the soot and blood from her face…collar…arms. When no protests rang out, he took the TLC to the next level, and trimmed the ends of her hair. He didn’t want her waking up, smelling the stench of burnt hair, and remembering what happened. Again, she issued no protests.

When he noticed one of her cuts had opened up, blood welling, he collected the droplets as gently as possible. He knew what to do with them. Though he would have severed every limb to climb into bed beside her, he remained standing at the side, telling her, “I will go now, but I will be close. If you have any need of me, you have only to shout and I will come running.” Pause. “I am so very sorry, vixen. What I did to you…what I considered doing…there is no excuse. If I could go back…if I could kick my own ass…I am so sorry,” he repeated.

Looking past him, she admitted, “I do understand why you thought the worst of me. But you were so cruel and cold, willing to part with me and even let me die. That hurt far worse than your accusations or the whipping.”

His chest tightened, constricting his airways. “I will regret my words and actions for the rest of my life, but I will make it up to you. Somehow. I will not stop until I take my last breath. You are an incredible woman, and I love you. I didn’t show you before, but I will show you from this moment on.” He dropped to his knees. “Never again will I allow past hurts to color my perceptions. Never again will I fear the things you make me feel. Never again will I doubt you.”

“Easy to say. Harder to do.” Though she opened her mouth to say more, she quickly pressed her lips into a thin line, released him, and rolled to her side, showing her back. Deserved. “Tired. Going to sleep now.”

Heart heavy, he placed two daggers on the nightstand closest to her, wanting her to feel safe. He also added the drops of blood he collected to the bloodline, saying, “Around the house, there is a bloodline. That is what prevented you from portaling. But now that I’ve added your blood to the mix, your powers will be restored to you fully.”

Her eyes widened. He said nothing more, just strode to the porch and took a post in front of the door. Had he lost this battle? Yes. Badly. Would he lose the next one? Probably so. Wo

uld he give up? Never! He would work up a game plan. One way or another, he would win back Fox, and have the happily ever after he’d never before expected.

* * * *

Shouts woke Fox. With a gasp, she jackknifed to an upright position. Took her a moment to orient herself. She was in the cabin…after returning to Bjorn…after being abducted by Lucifer… after being accused of a crime she hadn’t committed. Tears burned her eyes and blurred her vision. Ugh! When did I become such a baby?

The shouting had stopped, at least. Maybe she’d dreamed it?

With a sigh, she flopped backward, reclining on the mound of pillows. Silvery moonlight seeped through the room’s only window. Getting back to sleep would be impossible, her mind too active, her emotions too raw. She should go on emotional lockdown but…she kind of wanted to embrace the pain. Maybe then she would wise up and refuse to go back to Bjorn…who she still craved more than air.

He claimed to love her. Her! He claimed to want a second chance with her, and he’d openly acknowledged his feelings in front of his peers, as if proud to be with her. As if a Sent One and a demon-possessed assassin weren’t the oddest couple ever.

Should she give him another chance, though? Did he truly love her, or did he simply feel guilty for the way he’d treated her? Could two opposites have a fulfilling life together?

Don’t be a fool. He’ll never trust you. You’ll get hurt again, only worse.

Stupid Distrust! She sprayed a little mental Windex on her brain, and wiped away her every thought. That was when little aches and pains registered in different places on her body. No doubt she had a couple of broken ribs, a bruised liver and kidneys, and a fractured wrist. Thankfully, she’d healed quite a bit.

“You will come with me, Bjorn.” Alana’s voice seeped through the window. “Do not even consider resisting. I’m in a mood.”

Horror inundated Fox. The shouts. The shouts had come from her. Realization: the bitch had come to Hell. She prepared to take Bjorn back to her lair, no doubt to drain his life-force again. And, as angry as Alana sounded, she’d probably take more than before. Would he recover?