Crimson Warrior (Onyx Assassins 3)

Olivia took my breath away. She was dressed in a gown that poured over her curves like liquid starlight, reflecting the glow of the chandelier with every step she took. It somehow managed to stay up with two thin straps on her shoulders before dipping deep between the vee of her breasts, the fabric caressing the dip of her waist and the curve of her hips on its way to the floor.

I wanted to snap the straps with my teeth and bury myself inside her. Sounds like an excellent plan.

“You might want to put those away before she gets here,” Benedict said with a laugh.

“What?” I snapped.

“You have a little something right here,” he pointed to the tip of his blunt incisor. “And here,” he added with a smirk as he nudged its match on the other side of his jaw.

“Fuck off,” I muttered just before they reached us, drawing my lips over the sharp edges of my fangs. Jesus, Olivia’s hair was down, and I could scent it from here—scent her from here.

“Ransom,” Olivia greeted me in a low whisper, tucking into my side like she’d been there for years. My arm slid around her waist, then dipped to the luscious swell of her hip as I tugged her closer and leaned in, my lips grazing her ear.

“I can see why you wanted to get dressed with Avianna,” I whispered.

“Oh? And why is that?” She leaned into me and shifted slightly so my hand caressed her perfect ass.

“One look at you in this dress, and we wouldn’t have made it out of the bedroom,” I growled against her neck, barely keeping my fangs from nipping at her flawless skin.

“Behave.”

“I don’t want to.” I traced the shell of her ear with my tongue, and she gripped the lapels of my jacket. “I want to take you back to our room and strip you out of this dress.”

Olivia shivered as I subtly squeezed her ass, then dropped my hand down the back of her thigh, grazing something stiff under the shimmering fabric.

“Olivia Sorokin,” I lectured, pulling back in mock surprise. “Are you…strapped?” My girl was packing something under this dress that felt about the right size for a dagger.

“Like you’re not,” she muttered, but her cheeks flushed with color.

“Good evening, boys.” Avianna cleared her throat and smiled at each of us in turn.

“Your highness,” we said in unison.

“You know I hate that,” she muttered.

“Well, when we’re at the estate, we’ll stick to your preferred lack of formality.” Benedict flashed a grin as he spoke soft enough that only the five of us could hear him. “But when we’re out in the wild, it’s titles and tiaras, Princess.”

She rolled her eyes and groaned, “Fine. At least tell me what you need me to do.”

“Act like a princess and don’t put yourself in danger,” Hawke suggested, pulling his tie loose. “Fucking thing is strangling me.”

“Here.” Avianna moved in front of him and deftly untied and retied the black knot. “Now you look civilized and can breathe. Best of both worlds.”

I wasn’t sure about the breathing part since Hawke’s chest hadn’t moved from the second she’d put her hands on him until she stepped back, pink staining her cheeks.

I lifted my brows at him.

He glared back.

“You okay?” Avianna asked Hawke.

“I’m fine,” he responded.

Benedict flinched.

“And moving on to the business portion of this evening,” I said quickly, earning a quick look of thanks from Hawke. “You all have your assignments. Find out when your targets arrived on the island and try to get their opinion on how Alek is handling the war without outright asking.”

“You mean you don’t want us to whip out our polling data and talk about Alek’s ten-point plan to defeating the Sons of Honor?” Benedict drawled. “Shocker.”

“I don’t have an assignment,” Avianna noted, raising a brow in my direction.

“You have a line forming behind you, Princess,” I said gently, knowing how badly Avianna wanted to fight on her brother’s behalf. She was simply too valuable to put at risk. Ever.

She glanced over her shoulder and sighed, a professional, polite smile plastered on her face as she turned back toward us. “Great. It’s like The Bachelorette. Except they all brought their mothers. Oh, and I don’t want to get mated, but who gives a shit about that detail?” She said it with so much sarcasm that I nearly laughed.

“See how much information you can get out of them while they’re stepping on your toes,” Olivia suggested as the first beau pushed his way into our little circle.

The dress-uniform sporting vampire was above average height for a fully grown male, but Hawke still towered over him as the assassin took a begrudging step to the side, making room at Avianna’s side. His uniform was crimson and gold, and there were more than a few medals on his chest, though I didn’t recognize any of them.