Assassin's Kiss (5 page)

Zeebi drew in a breath, studying him, and released it slowly. “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Scorpio’s impatience had him grabbing the bars, glaring at her.

“This…” She mimicked his gesture. “Is thanks to you, whether it was your intent or not.”

“What are you talking about?” Was she as crazy as the witches from last night?

“We’re no longer on Bronwy land. We’re several miles away. We were forced to move when you killed Pennar.”

“Why?”

“He was the most powerful mage among us, and he was also more powerful than anyone in the Vespera coven. Our rival.” Her mouth curled in distaste. “Pennar was the only one who kept us in our true homeland and kept them in check.”

“They took your land?”
Why not take it back?

“More than that, demon.” Zeebi sighed. “Bronwy’s land sits on a rare confluence of dark ley lines. Not only are they full of dark magic, but they tempt us to dabble in it. It’s like a lure.” Her eyes grew distant. “Pennar was so strong, he created a barrier that prevented us from feeling the pull of darkness. He also created dozens of wards and counterspells that kept Vespera away. Sure, he used our communal talent, twisting all our magic together to help with barriers. But only he could create such blocks. That all came crashing down when he died.”

Scorpio stared at her as the pieces clicked together in his mind. The insults from last night, the buildings that looked thrown together… “There’s more, isn’t there?”

She nodded. “Vespera now occupies our old homes. Their leader, Damien, sucks up the darkness in the ley lines as if it were water. He doesn’t try to block the temptation. He wants to enlarge his coven, and loves it when one of ours defects to him. On top of that, they take a percentage of Bronwy’s income from the spells and potions we sell to the villages around here. And we don’t have access to the best herbs and crystals anymore. Damien guards them like gold.”

“Shit.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. Words wouldn’t form on his tongue, instead tumbling around in his head like a swarm of angry bees. He never thought too hard about the jobs he’d done. He’d had no choice about them and had simply done what had to be done. If additional suffering occurred, so be it. He always had another job on the horizon. Dalamos had no shortage of enemies.

But hearing the words and seeing the changes brought about as a result of his actions hit him like a sledgehammer. Even more devastating was the knowledge that his mate was here, among these people, who’d done nothing wrong. He’d caused her to suffer and that sliced deeply into his gut.

No wonder she’d looked at him with such horror. Killing Pennar had been the stone dropping into the pond, resulting in ripples that extended exponentially, farther than he ever could have imagined. Fuck. “Can’t you go after Vespera and reclaim your land?”

“No.” Zeebi shot him a look like he was stupid. “We can’t go up against the dark magic. Hallon is powerful, sure, but not as much as Pennar.”

“How many of them are there?”

“About a hundred, like us. But the dark magic doubles their power, so they may as well have two hundred witches.”

Scorpio, like most denizens of Torth, knew that dark magic was like a drug, hooking its talons into those who dared to try it and constantly pushing them to do more, use more. It allowed less powerful creatures to achieve more results faster, but it ate at the soul, turning it black until it consumed all sense of morality. It was a sentient, malicious being.

Torth had enough good witches to balance the overall distribution of magic, but the darkness had tendrils everywhere, just waiting for the chance to pull in more users.

“Let me help,” he said. “I can lead a group in and take out the leader—”

“Stop right there.” Zeebi held up a hand. “First of all, it’s too late to play hero. And second, you have no idea what you’re up against. There’s a reason those dark ley lines are a secret. Vespera is insanely powerful now that they can access them. I don’t think even a Watcher army can take them down.”

Then you’ve never seen a Watcher army in action.
But Scorpio held his tongue, knowing that his boss would never agree to get involved in a witch-on-witch conflict. Not unless it spilled over and upset the balance of peace in the realm, affecting other creatures negatively.

Shit. He needed to fix the injustices done to his mate’s people. Too bad they seemed bent on killing him.

But he was more than a killer. There was a time when he didn’t believe that, but that was long past. Scorpio knew he had value as a brother, a friend, and a loyal soldier. And as long as he knew, he could work to convince others. Somehow, some way, he’d prove his use to the coven long enough to make amends.

C
HAPTER
4

T
ESSA STALKED THROUGH THE BUILDINGS
, skin prickling with irritation. What the hell was up with that demon saying she belonged to him? No goddamn male was going to claim her. She might be about to give up her body, but never her heart and mind.

She’d only let Damien think he owned her.

Vespera’s soulless leader had dark, cold obsidian eyes, just like his heart. Black and emotionless. Tessa knew that many of his witches thought he was handsome but to her, he only radiated evil.

And Scorpio…she finally allowed his name to enter her mind. Might as well. Acting like he bothered her would only give him power over her, whether he knew it or not. Did he radiate evil? He was a killer, a monster, an uncaring machine. Right?

But no, that’s not what his aura exuded. And that unnerved the shit out of her.

She wasn’t prepared for the sense of honor and duty that danced in the air around him like fireflies. And she certainly wasn’t prepared for the mesmerizing golden hue of his eyes. Lit from deep within, they were warm and curious. Intelligent and observant.

Not hard, cold, or self-serving.

But he killed Pennar. He’s a mercenary.
She clung to that mantra, those facts from the past, because the present and the future unsettled her.

Taking a deep breath, she opened Hallon’s door without knocking. There was no need.

“There’s my girl.” The chief mage turned from his table scattered with papers.

“Hi, Dad.” Tessa smiled at her father, who looked like he’d aged a hundred years since taking over for Pennar. Supernatural creatures didn’t show age until they were thousands of years old, but Hallon had definite streaks of silver at his temples that were relatively new additions to his dark hair.

“You saw the prisoner’s new location?”

“Yeah.” Tessa hadn’t minded missing Scorpio’s move from his original cell. She had no desire to be around him or have anything to do with him, other than her duty of maintaining the integrity of the bars that caged him. Too bad her damn cat seemed to have fallen tail over paws for the guy. What was up with that? Jinx turned her nose up at everyone except Tessa.

“I checked the bars just now. Figured I’d get it over with,” she went on.

Hallon nodded. “Good, can’t take any chances with that one. The people got pretty worked up last night. Boulder spells and all.”

“I’m not surprised. But he didn’t look any worse for wear today.” Though she had tried to focus only on the bars, she hadn’t missed the rugged glow of health that tinged his square jaw and full lower lip. “Those guys heal so freaking fast.” She paced the room, restless. “So…what’s next for him?”

Her father grunted and stared out the window, frustration etched across his face in fine lines. “I was thinking to use him to test the newest torture spells. Try them, let him heal, and try more. Make him suffer.”

His tone was heavy, and unease built in Tessa’s belly. “But?”

“But I thought about it all night, and I can’t tell if doing this would be justice…or darkness.” His blue eyes met hers.

“Of course it would be justice.” She shook her head. “Look at what’s happened since—”

“I know exactly what’s happened. I also know the lure of those dark ley lines. They try to reach us even here, try to influence every one of us. Even me.” He picked up an amulet from his desk and idly rubbed it. “Condoning torture isn’t who I am. It’s not who we, as a coven, are.”

“Why not let the coven decide? It sounds like they want blood.”

“Exactly. They want it. Part of me does too, but the reason why?” He shook his head. “I won’t lower us to Vespera’s standards.”

Tessa’s jaw dropped. “Dad. He fell out of the freaking sky and landed in our backyard! If that’s not a sign for us to deliver justice, I don’t know what is.” But even as the incredulous words flew from her mouth, a seed of argument rooted in her stomach. Scorpio’s aura, which she could read easily. Honor. Duty. Protect.

Crap!

“You echo the thoughts of many, I expect.” He looked at her with equal parts assessment and compassion. “But I’m going to consult with the Elder witches first.”

“Okay. Good.” That meant her dad wasn’t ruling out any possibilities. His standard MO involved weighing every option carefully, and this particular situation was made more complicated by the emotion running through the coven. Scorpio was the catalyst for Bronwy’s woes, and he now lived and breathed at their mercy.

But torturing Scorpio wouldn’t get their land back or improve their lives in any way. A brand new fledgling objection to harming Scorpio dug in and expanded, and its stark terms startled her. What she might view as justice would serve no good purpose. None. She bit her lip, more confused than ever.

At times like this, Tessa was glad she wouldn’t automatically become the leader one day. Covens didn’t operate on a ruling family system, but rather on a popular vote, whenever there was a vacancy in leadership. And she would never, ever ask for this job.

Besides, she would be taking her place at Damien’s side soon.

The door flung open, rousing her from her gloomy reverie. She shuddered, not wanting to think of the Vespera leader or the arrangement she’d made with him.

A short stocky form stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the sunlight behind him. Only a few, like her, didn’t bother to knock on Hallon’s door.

“Hi, Winston.” Tessa grinned at the Elder’s mop of wild gray hair. “We were just talking about you. Sort of.”

“Ach, that’s why my fourth toe was itching.” The old mage walked in and plopped down in an overstuffed chair. “What is it?”

“I’d like to consult with you and the others about our prisoner,” Hallon said. “But we can do that later. What brings you here this fine morning?”

“We need more amethyst crystals.” Winston leaned down to remove his shoes and rub the toes of his right foot.

“We’re out already?” Tessa asked, surprise and dread mixing in her gut.

“Yes, child. We sell so many of the healing charms, and they’re used in those. One of the few high selling items these days.” Winston sniffed. Healing charms worked well on minor injuries and sicknesses that might befall witches. More serious situations required a healer, though not every village had one.

The items Bronwy could make had become limited, due to their supply area being reduced by Vespera. They were still able to grow many herbs, but the soil of their new land wasn’t as rich and nurturing as that of the old land. A few things didn’t grow at all…and the crystals were only found in a hidden pocket of the forest on Vespera’s land. Vespera knew they still created the healing charms, but thought Bronwy had a large crystal supply they were working from.

Desperate, Bronwy witches had been sneaking onto Vespera’s territory and harvesting the crystals. It was dangerous. If caught, they could be killed.

“That’s not good.” Tessa folded her arms tightly around her waist in an effort to settle the apprehension in her gut. “We’ll need to send another harvesting party. And bring more weapons and men.” The last time, they’d almost been found. She’d hoped to avoid another trip for a few more months, at least.

“Our ward witches are working on stronger spells to guard us as we move closer to Vespera.” Hallon frowned. “We can’t take too large of a group. That’ll draw their attention for sure.”

Winston grabbed a handful of nuts from a bowl on the table next to him. “Take the demon.” He tossed the nuts into his mouth.

“What?” Tessa gaped. “Let him out? Are you crazy?”

“May as well put him to use while we have him.” Winston spoke around a mouthful of nuts, as if he hadn’t suggested the craziest thing ever.

“He’s a killer. He doesn’t get to go on outings.” Tessa glared and shot her dad a questioning look.

But the thoughtfulness in his eyes gave him away. He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “Lash demons have excellent olfactory ability, hearing, sight—much better than ours. He would know if any of the Vespera were near.”

“What if he betrays us to them?” Tessa couldn’t believe her dad was considering this. “He could alert them. They’d probably throw a freaking banquet for him, and capture us, or worse.”

“Lash Watchers are honorable. It’s in their code, their oath, their blood,” Winston said.

No way. I can’t be hearing this correctly.
Tessa opened her mouth, but Hallon held up a hand.

“He wasn’t a Watcher when he killed Pennar.”

Right. He had worked for someone else. Tessa didn’t care who and didn’t want to learn more about their formidable prisoner. Formidable, muscular, confusing—and apparently—loved by her cat. She rubbed her temple as frustration built.

“He can be contained,” Hallon went on. “Magic rope, spelled cuffs, and a collar. Tessa, you can create them today.”

She could. Manacles from which he couldn’t escape. A collar that could weaken his muscles. He would also be given gloves that would prevent him from using his demonfire. But letting him out? No matter what she had observed in his aura today, it was too soon. Too outlandish. “I don’t know, Dad. I mean, yeah, I can do those things. But I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“He’s a protector,” the chief murmured.

“We’ve thrown him into a cell and used magic against him. Why would he feel the need to protect us?”

“Because his soul hasn’t gone cold,” Winston said. “I sense no malice toward us.”