Crimson Highlander (Onyx Assassins 2)

An acquaintance.

No fucking way. Right? The idea of it was absurd.

Or was it?

“Are we going or what?” Jocelyn called up, her voice pitching higher at the end in a nervous tell.

I kicked open the door, splintering the wood and sending what remained crashing into the wall beside it as it swung wildly on its hinges.

A set of pale green eyes flew wide from where the human sat on the queen-sized bed, her hair a glorious cloud of auburn and her bare legs tucked up under shorts too short to call decent.

“Valor,” I growled.

The human had the nerve to switch off whatever program was droning on in the background, then put the remote down slowly. But there was a fine tremble to those elegant fingers.

“You used apple cider vinegar to hide your scent from me?” I stalked toward her, noting that her eyes didn’t dart for an escape route. She was well and truly caught, and the lass knew it.

“It worked for six months,” she said with a shrug. “You’re going to shit bricks when you realize just how many times you almost had me.”

“I should—” Fury took off like wildfire through my veins, which was second only to the punch of my cock at the zipper of my pants and the lengthening of my fangs as her scent hit me full-on, burning my throat, filling my lungs, and jolting my heart.

“You should what?” she spat back, scrambling to her feet. “We both know you’re not going to hurt me. Just let me go now, so no one else does.”

“Oh, we both know that, do we?” So the fuck what if she was right? I was the general of the vampire army. The second to the king himself. “Would you like to test out that theory? I’ve been chasing your ass for six fucking months at the request of my queen, and now you think you have what? Immunity from your crimes?”

She tilted her chin. “I know what you do. You’re an assassin. Once judgment has been given, you carry it out. You kill the criminals.”

“Aye, I do.” I stalked her like the predator I was, my mouth watering at the thought of tasting her. Did that citrus scent carry into her blood, too?

“So if you’re here, it means I’ve been judged.” She backed away slowly, but my predatory nature was still triggered, ready to pounce.

“You don’t know anything about our world, lass. Just the lies those bigoted, murderous assholes you call family filled your head with.” The ones who had kidnapped my queen and tortured her. The ones who put out hits on every royal lineage among the immortals. Her. Fucking. Family.

“I know that you can’t hurt me.” Her breaths came quicker, and her scent altered, tinging with fear that I both appreciated and loathed. I wanted her to suffer for making me chase her for six months. I just wasn’t sure how I felt about her fearing me. Odd. Usually, I didn’t give a fuck what women thought as long as they got out of my bed after they’d come a few times.

“If I’d been sent to find you after a judgment, I wouldn’t be here to fetch you or hurt you, Valor.” I backed her into the wall, then caged her in with my arms.

“Well, you can’t kill me, either.” She tilted her chin and stared at me with as much defiance as I’d ever seen a human muster.

“And why is that?”

She laughed, but the sound wasn’t happy. Then she turned slightly and pulled her hair away from the nape of her neck. “Because I guess this stupid thing means I’m yours.”

My mating mark stood out stark against her pale skin.

Fuck me.

2

Valor

The chill of the stone seeped through my clothing as I leaned back against the dungeon wall. At least, I assumed that’s where I was. Lachlan hadn't exactly been chatty as he'd hauled me out of the motel room and driven me here.

I was back in the vampire lair—the residence, as they called it.

"You put her in the dungeon?" Lyric's shout of disbelief echoed down the stone corridor, sending a jolt a relief through my chest.

She was my best friend, and sure, I'd been hiding from her for the last six months too, but I had good reason.

First, I was the one who had inadvertently put her in danger. Okay, maybe inadvertent wasn't the right word since I was the youngest Moorehouse, which meant I came from a long, determined line of vampire hunters.

My second reason for hiding? My best friend hadn't just fallen for a vampire while we'd finished up our doctorates last year—she'd mated their freaking king, which meant Lyric was now the Vampire Queen.

And the third reason—

"And don't even start with me that this isn't a dungeon." Lyric's voice was growing louder.

"She has a damned pillow," a familiar Scottish burr answered, raising the hairs on the back of my neck, right along the tattoo that had appeared nearly six months ago.