Assassin's Kiss (8 page)

Even if she were about to tie herself to another.

“What.” His words came out thick and inhuman, forced around his clenched teeth. “Do you mean.” It wasn’t a question.

“Just like it sounds, demon. Surely I don’t need to spell out the details for you.”

Details. Fuck. “You can’t go through with it.”

“I can.”

Scorpio tried and failed to put a lid on his corrosive anger. “Do you love him?” he gritted.

The flicker of disgust that crossed her face told him her exact feelings about the enemy leader. “That’s irrelevant.”

“The hell it is.” He breathed through a growl. “Do you?”

“None of your fucking business,” she hissed, staring at the path ahead.

“So you don’t.” When she didn’t respond, he continued. “Why are you doing this?”

“I want to.”

“Bullshit.”

She turned angry eyes on him, flashing blue fire. “Who the
fuck
do you think you are?”

Your true mate.
But he’d already told her that, and that had gone over like a pet cat bringing its master a dead mouse. “You can’t do this.”

“Aaannnd, we’re back to you thinking you can tell me what to do. You know what? You can take your goddamn Watcher attitude and shove it. I’m done.”

“Tessa, wai—”

But she was already halfway back to the rear of the group.

Furious disbelief pounded in his veins, making every limb, finger, and toe ache for retribution. He wanted to smash this Damien’s face in, then use his internal organs to—

Fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, then opened them to the brilliant greenery around him which swayed peacefully, in direct contrast to the darkness of his thoughts. Thoughts like those were exactly why the witches had stereotyped him. Why everyone had created a mental picture that he was a monster.

And if he wanted any chance at all with Tessa, he’d have to put those thoughts on lockdown.

But dammit to fucking hell. She was promised to Damien? The fact that she was promised to anyone at all burned like acid. But a power-hungry rival who sought to oppress and corrupt her people?

Witches were one of the very few species who married when they took a fellow witch or mage as a life partner. The mate bond, which was more common and more permanent, was what clicked into place for predatory species and fae, allowing an emotional and psychic link that would last until death.

If a witch and a demon fell in love, the demon’s psyche would dominate, and a traditional mate bond would form, centered on love and devotion.

If a witch pair fell in love, they would have a wedding ceremony performed by a coven Elder. Much like human weddings. Sometimes the pair included a blood bond, made with a small ceremonial cut to the palms. This exchange supposedly enabled the pair to tap into each other’s magic. But there would be no mental bond, and while the flowery words “til death do us part” were often spoken, that wasn’t binding in any way.

Not binding in any way.
Scorpio knew in his bones that Tessa didn’t love Damien. She couldn’t. If she did, why the hell wasn’t she already with him? Also, she didn’t carry a male’s scent. She hadn’t ever since he’d been there.

There was no way she could go through with this. She was his.

And as much as this development infuriated him, the tactical half of his mind assessed it like any other challenge. It was like going on an op and discovering an extra layer of security you didn’t know was there.

It could be done. No wall was too high to scale. Because failing to win her wasn’t an option.

“Hold up, demon,” one of the guards commanded roughly. It was Orser, his most frequent jailer. “We’re close.”

Scorpio stopped, as did the rest of the group. He quieted the fury in his mind and focused on the sounds of the forest. Insects buzzed, birds chirped, small mammals scurried under rough, deadened shrub branches. A hawk keened high overhead.

The scents of foliage and animals filled his nose. All seemed peaceful as bright sunlight streaked in golden beams through the dense canopy. “I don’t detect any other witches or any predators.”

“Good,” Orser said. “They aren’t usually this far out, but you can’t be too sure. From now on, we go silently. And you alert us if you hear or smell anything that doesn’t belong. Got it?”

Scorpio nodded. “One thing, though. We pause at intervals so I can do an assessment, like I just did. No one moves, no one talks.”

Orser glared at him. But from behind him, Zeebi spoke up. “Sounds good. He’s the stealth expert.”

“Zeebi,” Orser warned.

“What? It’s public knowledge that Watchers can move as silently as tigers. Us?” The blond witch shook her head. “Um,
not
.”

Scorpio kept his expression neutral and his thoughts to himself. She was right. Witches didn’t know the meaning of silent. Their concept of it was to tromp through the brush slowly instead of quickly. They weren’t predators, and if one waited for them, they’d be caught.

“We also can’t hear as well as the Lash, so Vespera isn’t going to know if we let a tree limb snap back too fast from half a mile away,” Orser said.

Tessa gave a small grunt that sounded irritated, and let out a sigh. “I hate to say it but she’s right. Winston wanted us to put him to use, so we may as well let him do what he does best. If we hinder him and then run into trouble, it will only bite us.”

Her words were pure logic, phrased in a way that removed herself from sounding supportive. Almost. Because she didn’t have to say them at all. Actually she didn’t look happy about the fact that she’d opened her mouth.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, wanting to acknowledge her support, even though it was more of a backhanded compliment. But she folded her arms and focused on Orser.

“Fine,” Orser grumbled. “It’s over that ridge, then a half mile’s walk.”

Scorpio kept his gaze on Tessa. “If we find any of them, I request to be freed from these.” He held up his hands. “I can protect you better that way.”

“Not if we can protect ourselves first.” Blue eyes flared with stubbornness as she finally turned to him.

“I can protect you better than anything you’ve got.” Certainty infused his words and he didn’t move his stare from those ocean blue depths.

She blinked and a tiny twitch shook her shoulders.

“Let’s just play it by ear, okay guys?” Zeebi’s eyes flicked between them, wide and curious. “If we get into more than we can handle, we know what to do.” She turned a pointed glare on Tessa. “Right?”

Another irritated sigh. “Fine. Let’s go.”

Those were the same words delivered in the same tone she’d used before, after putting the restraints on him. Irritated, and a little flustered. Kind of like she was dealing with something she hadn’t expected.

Scorpio didn’t know why Zeebi seemed to be in his corner, but he wasn’t complaining. Between her and the damn cat, maybe Tessa would start to thaw. It was time to break the winter witch’s curse. He’d gotten Tessa flushed, indignant, and angry. In his mind, any emotion from her was better than zero emotion, because it meant he was getting to her. She’d hurled witchfire at him and now? She’d advocated for him, and that was progress he’d grab and scale walls with.

They started up again. Boots thudding on the dirt path, Scorpio slipped easily into the role of lethal protector. As far as he was concerned, every member of this group was under his watch, not only his mate. In fact, her whole coven was now under his protection, whether they wanted it or not.

Whether they continued to cage and restrain him or not.

The top of the ridge gave him a slightly better vantage point and he raised his wrists in a signal to stop. Guards flanked him, casting glances side to side.

He dropped his attention to the soft dirt as a familiar print caught his eye. Crouching low, he examined the telltale paw outline of a large dire wolf. “You have a lot of wolves in this area?”

One guard, called Kharv, nodded. “Been more in recent years. Their own natural predators haven’t been keeping up.”

“Wolves are at the top of the food chain.” Scorpio straightened.

“Mostly,” Kharv agreed. “But the night ghouls who stalk the wolves’ injured and young have been dying off. Not sure why. We figure the less of those things, the better.”

Scorpio frowned at the prints that headed off the path and into the brush. “There’s always a trade-off,” he murmured. Dire wolves were mainly nocturnal, but had been known to adjust to daylight hunting when desperate. Another thing to stay on watch for.

The sloping trail ahead of them descended to level ground. Oaks, sycamores, and maples rustled in the gentle breeze, their leaves lending a song to the February air. Due to the realms lack of changing seasons, the trees didn’t lose their foliage and the air in this region was moderate enough for short sleeves. Scorpio inhaled, catching a familiar scent.

“There’s water nearby?”

Orser nodded. “The Bronwy River curves around this way. It’s the border of our land.”

Our land.
Scorpio didn’t need to ask the guard to clarify which side he meant. His tense stance communicated his ire.

“Bridge?” Scorpio asked.

“No need. At the bend, the current slows and there’s a path of wide flat stones we can use.”

Scorpio nodded and signaled for the group to keep moving. He ignored their noisy footfalls and focused on what lay ahead, reaching out with every sense, and encountered nothing unusual. He stopped them again behind a line of trees that edged the river’s bank.

Like Orser said, a line of flat gray stones marched across the river. Curls of rushing water licked over their edges in quick caresses. But the tops remained mostly dry and looked rough enough to prevent them from sliding into the river.

A swirl of honeysuckle in the air had him instinctively moving closer to Tessa as she drew up beside him. So close…she’d kept her distance throughout the journey, except for when he’d asked to speak to her. He stopped himself short of brushing her elbow.

“Over there.” She pointed across the river to a rowan tree. Clusters of bright orange-red berries decorated its feather-like leaves. Surrounding trees towered higher, yet none of them grew closer than fifteen feet, as if giving this tree its own space. Typical rowans were only about twenty feet tall, but it stood proud and rooted in importance. “The crystals are down among the rowan roots.”

He snuck a glance at her and was momentarily blindsided by the unguarded appreciation on her face. No scowl or sarcastic comment. Just a gaze of wonder and longing.

Longing for what was supposed to be hers. Was that why she was marrying Damien? To get back to the land she loved?

But then she’d be leaving her people behind, whom she obviously adored. And who probably depended on her metal skills.

No, it had to be something else. And whatever it was, he’d find out, then he’d do whatever he could to restore Bronwy’s rightful land. He wasn’t sure how, yet, but he’d figure that out.

Win her.

Stop her wedding.

Return her people’s lands.

His impromptu mission kept adding layers. At this point, he might be years away from returning to Watcher duties. Arawn would have a shit fit.

But nothing could make Scorpio leave.

C
HAPTER
7

T
HE PULL OF HER HOMELAND
made Tessa creep closer to the tree line. So near she could smell it, the way the earth, and berries, and leaves mixed into a cocktail of permanent emotional roots that formed a connection straight to her heart.

Yep, it was that, and not the broad-shouldered demon who’d led them here. The one who prowled in silent lethal grace, and who radiated the ability to kill, even while wearing her restraints.

He broadcast protection along with that sense of duty, again. And she somehow knew it extended to their entire group and not just her. That fact relieved her immensely.

But it didn’t alleviate the impression that she’d unleashed a beast when she’d revealed her upcoming marriage.

Well, too bad. It was too late to change anything. But she was still a Bronwy witch and always would be, no matter whose bed she slept in.

She felt Scorpio’s eyes on her like twin beacons, but she refused to look at him. There was an intensity in the looks he gave her, that he gave to no one else. She didn’t understand it, or want to dwell on it, or even acknowledge it. That carnal, watchful stare flustered her as much as the liquid caress of his voice.

Just focus on right now.
The crystals. He would help them, of that she had no question. Still refusing to look at him, she asked, “Is it all clear, demon?”

“Yes.” His deep timbre rumbled over her skin, too close.

A shiver zipped down her bare arm and she stepped away, praying he didn’t see the goose bumps that had emerged like traitors on her bicep.

“But when we cross, we’ll be temporarily exposed. We need to move quickly,” he continued.

“We’ve done this before,” Orser muttered.

“And nearly got killed,” Zeebi’s warning was soft in the air.

“We can go. Now.” Scorpio’s last word was a command and a warning rolled into one syllable.

Orser stepped out, leading the way. “Behind me, demon. Then Zeebi, Tessa, and the other guards.”

They crossed the stones in single file. Tessa and the others had skillfully navigated the way a hundred times before, while they lived here. The only newbie was Scorpio, and he skimmed across as if he’d been doing this all his life too.

Tessa averted her eyes from his tight backside as he leaped from one stone to another, landing as soundlessly as a lion. Watcher training. That’s all it was. She bet they all went into stealth mode when necessary. Nope, nothing special about Scorpio’s muscles or sinewy moves.

Liar.
A tiny voice whispered in her mind. The inkling of an idea bloomed, that he might be quite extraordinary, indeed, and the perfect demon to help them.
Whoa.
She blinked, suddenly feeling like she needed to be on guard around him, and not for fear of physical harm. The muscles in his back rippled under his tight T-shirt as he advanced to the next stone. Predator. Protector. She shook her head, forcing her thoughts to the mission at hand.