Dark Deceit (16 page)

*

D
arrion faded back
to the office he had set up in Dorchester and immediately picked up the phone.
Korvain’s defiance was a slap in the face, and even though it killed him to do
it, he couldn’t have that in his guild. Losing his best assassin had now become
unavoidable.

Walkers followed the orders they were given. End of. If he showed
leniency now, other guild masters would see it as a weakness and kill him for
it. He had worked too damn hard to see his guild slip through his fingers.

Darrion clutched the phone to his ear, listening to the other end
ringing impatiently. Finally, Adrian answered.

‘Yeah?’

‘We need to talk.’

Adrian sighed then hung up. While he waited, Darrion pulled out his
throwing blades and started launching them at the target beside the door. Each
knife was perfectly balanced for throwing, perfectly tuned to him. He released
the first one. It sliced through the air, landing in the wooden board with a
familiar
thunk
.

Losing Korvain was going to be hard. He was the best there was. Hel,
he was even better than Darrion had been. But defiance wouldn’t be tolerated.

Death before dishonor
.

Adrian knocked before he came in. Darrion threw his last knife at
the target and retrieved them before barking the order for Adrian to get his
ass in the room. The Mare entered the room slowly, staring at Darrion as if he
was a loaded gun just waiting to go off. The funny thing was, he was right.

Darrion was wound so damn tight he could snap at any minute.

‘Sit down,’ he commanded. Adrian walked forward and sat in the
chair—his back stiff, his eyes darting around. Darrion sat in his office chair,
a throwing blade in one hand. He tested the tip with his fingertip, dimpling
his skin.

He let Adrian sweat there for a minute before finally speaking. ‘I
have a job for you.’ Darrion watched his face for a reaction, but got none. ‘A
Walker on a hit right now has been compromised.’

Adrian’s green eyes were fixed on the tip of the blade sticking into
Darrion’s thumb. A small bead of blood had welled, growing like a fattening tick
against his skin.

Darrion could see the Mare wanted to ask who had fucked their
assignment, but he wouldn’t—no matter how much he wanted to.

‘I will offer you the same terms as the other Walker had. Triple the
pay and...five years off your term.’

Adrian’s eyes widened. ‘Who’s the mark?’

Darrion smiled slyly. ‘Will you take the job?’

Looking stricken, Adrian sat back in his chair, but didn’t relax. When
he finally looked Darrion in the eye, a steely determination glinted back at
him. ‘Give me ten off and I’ll consider it.’

Darrion’s smile faltered. The fucker wasn’t supposed to negotiate.
He needed it to be him. He needed the fucking irony. ‘Five,’ he spat back.

Adrian shook his head. ‘I’ll go as low as seven.’

Darrion looked at him darkly. ‘You don’t negotiate with me. I
offered you five, but now I’m not feeling so generous. You will do this job for
me, and you will do it for one year off your service.’

Adrian met his cool gaze. ‘I refuse.’

Fucking Korvain. Darrion swallowed back a curse, maintaining his
business face. ‘You will do this, Adrian, or I will take Taer out of the
assassin program and make her the guild whore after I have had my fill of her.’

The threat worked just as he had hoped. Adrian’s eyes bulged for a
second. He was trying to keep his cool. He was trying, but failing. A trickle
of sweat trailed down from his temple, his nostrils flared. Darrion laughed and
leaned forward in his chair.

‘If you think you’re upset now, wait till you hear who your mark
is.’ Darrion sat back and smiled, pleased with how he’d tipped the situation
back into his favor.

* * *

K
orvain palmed his
phone before it had even had the chance to ring. Hitting the call button, he
held it to his ear.

‘Yeah?’

‘Korvain?’ Bryn’s voice came through on a tremble from the other
end.

‘Yeah,’ he replied, his voice softening. ‘Is everything alright?’
This was becoming a habit of hers that he liked.

‘Everything is fine. I need you here,’ she said and Korvain felt his
blood pressure surge.

‘Whatever you want. I’ll come now,’ he blurted out, cursing his
whipped ass with every word.

He ended the call, running a hand through his skull-trimmed hair. He
left the house straight away, only realizing when he faded to the club that he
was still in a muscle shirt and sweats.

With a shrug, he approached the door and knocked—looking up at the
camera as he did. The giant metal door clicked and he pulled it open. He took
the elevator up to the living quarters on the top floor of the building,
knocking on Bryn’s slightly ajar apartment door.

Pushing it open, he called, ‘Hello?’

‘We’re in here,’ Bryn called from down the hall. Korvain slid into
the apartment and made his way down the hallway toward Bryn’s bedroom. Memories
from the dream came flooding back to him, sending blood south. His erection
made a tent of the front of his sweats and he quickly tucked the length into
the waistband.

He was about to push into Bryn’s bedroom when she called out to him
again. ‘Korvain, we’re in here.’ With one last lingering glance at Bryn’s
bedroom, he pushed open the other door.

The Valkyrie was pulling the sheets up on a twin bed while Eir sat
on the floor with a cushion hugged to her chest. Korvain’s eyes looked over the
healer. Her pale blonde hair, only a few shades darker than Bryn’s, was scraped
back into a high ponytail that bounced on her shoulders. There were deep purple
bruises under her eyes that about a day’s worth of sleep probably wouldn’t even
shift. He hadn’t noticed it last night, but there were a series of grazes up
and down one arm that hadn’t been healed.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked her.

She dropped her royal blue and teal eyes to the carpet she was
picking at absently. ‘Much better, thank you,’ she replied, voice barely
audible. He nodded. ‘And...thank you for rescuing me,’ she tacked on just as
quietly.

Korvain nodded again and looked at Bryn. ‘You wanted to see me?’

Glancing up, her cheeks flushed with a little color before she
cleared her throat. ‘Yeah. Eir’s going to move in here with me for a little
while until whatever this thing is passes over. I need you to take her home so
she can grab a few things, but I also need you to go check on the others.’

‘Wouldn’t it be safer if I go by myself?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, it would be, but you don’t know what Eir wants from her place
and the others will probably believe there’s a real threat if Eir tells them
herself she has already been attacked.’

Makes sense.
‘When do you want us to
go?’

‘Now.’

‘Alright.’

Eir slowly got to her feet and left Korvain and Bryn together. With
the other Valkyrie gone, he felt the air thicken, his need to touch her body
almost suffocating. The silence filled the void between them. When it was clear
she had nothing else to say to him, Korvain turned to leave, stopping when he
felt Bryn’s fingers curl around his arm. His head spun around, his nostrils
flaring when the faintest hint of gardenia hit the air.

‘Shut the door,’ she said. ‘I need to speak to you for a minute.’

He kicked the thing shut. ‘What’s up?’

She dropped her eyes to the carpet, her toes digging into the pile.
Gods, he had a flashback of those same toes curling into the sheets while he buried
his face between her legs and made her come—before she had told him about still
being a virgin. That little news flash hadn’t dampened his need to fuck her. If
anything, it had made it worse. Knowing she was untouched—unclaimed—made him
even hungrier for her.

He focused on her bare feet, on the toenails painted the same shade
of blue as one of the rings in her eyes. When she finally looked up at him
again, she was flushed.

‘I...umm...,’ she nervously fidgeted with the end of her braid. ‘Look
after my girl, alright?’

When a wave of her sweet succulent gardenia hit his nostrils again,
he knew she was thinking about the dream just as he had. ‘Tell me what you were
really going to say just then,’ he said gently, taking a step closer.

Her nostrils flared, but she shook her head. ‘It’s nothing.’

He growled softly, closing the distance between them. He hadn’t
thought. He’d just acted. He had denied himself in the dream. He didn’t want to
take her at a time where she thought it wasn’t real. He wanted her in this
reality, in this plane where there would be no doubt in her mind about who she
belonged to afterwards.

Taking her face in between his hands, she melted, whimpered. ‘Tell
me what you were going to say.’ It was a demand. He couldn’t help it. Where she
was concerned, he wanted to be that primal asshole who protected his woman.

She licked her lips, unknowingly tempting him to kiss her. ‘It’s
nothing.’

‘Bullshit.’

He smiled when he heard her cursing him under her breath. ‘I was
just wondering whether...’ she groaned. Her chest rose and fell with a large
sigh. ‘It’s stupid.’

‘I don’t care.’

She stared at him for a moment before tilting her chin up in
stubbornness. ‘Alright. I had a dream about you last night.’ A smile curved up
his lips. When Bryn saw it, she added, ‘Just forget I mentioned it, alright?’
pulling away from him.

He slipped his hands onto the top of her shoulders, stopping her.
‘What was your dream about?’ he asked gently.

She was flush against his chest so when her nipples hardened, he
felt them. His arousal came roaring back to life again, forcing him to angle
his hips away from hers.

‘I dreamed—’

‘Korvain?’ Eir knocked on the door. ‘Are you coming?’ Korvain
stepped away from Bryn reluctantly, his hand dragging down the length of her
arm as he did. He felt the little sparks extinguish as soon as he’d
relinquished his hold on her. ‘We aren’t done here,’ he growled softly.

Korvain and Eir
stepped out the back door of the club, fading to Eir’s house in Beacon Hill.
The woman glanced around nervously, fumbling with the keys before finally
getting the right one into the lock. Korvain had his back to her standing on
the stoop, his eyes surveying their surroundings.

When the door whined open, Korvain turned and followed Eir into her place.
She flicked on the lights in the entrance hall as she went, illuminating the
whole place like the shadows were going to suddenly grow fangs and attack her.
With a shake of his head, Korvain shut the door behind him.

Eir wandered away from him. Grabbing her wrist, he pulled her to an
abrupt stop.

‘Wait here while I check out the place.’

Her eyes widened like she hadn’t even considered there might be
someone lying in wait for her. ‘I’m coming with you.’ Her voice was brittle
with fear.

‘Fine, but stay close behind me.’

Palming one of his Sig Sauers, he moved through the bottom floor of
the house with an efficiency he could only credit with his training. Eir
trailed behind him, never more than two feet from his heels.

When they made it back to the entrance hall, Eir murmured, ‘Do you
really think someone could be in here?’

‘I’d rather not take the risk.’ His eyes lifted to the second level.
‘I’ll go up first to check it’s clear. You stay down here. I won’t be long.’

Eir nodded, her head jerking around unsteadily. Legging it up the
stairs, Korvain conducted the same sweep, but found nothing out of the
ordinary. He leaned over the balustrade from the mezzanine and called down to
Eir.

‘Come on up, but don’t take too long. I want to check on the
others.’

While Eir started rummaging through her closet for gods knew what,
Korvain went down onto the first level again. He peered through the curtained front
window before looking at the photos standing in frames around Eir’s living room.

Bryn showed up in a lot of them, and a lot of them were from the
early days. If he had to guess, he would have said the 1920s. Bryn looked great
in a flapper dress. Her legs went for days. In many of the images, the girls
posed; bright smiles on their lips. They all looked so different—so carefree.
Maverick even had long hair in these photos.

Bryn especially looked younger. She didn’t have the dark circles
under her eyes which were testament to the strain and stress she was living
under.  

‘I’m ready,’ Eir announced. Korvain spun around, having become so
caught up in the past—so caught up in Bryn. The Valkyrie had a sports bag over
one shoulder and a wooden box under the other arm. Korvain studied the thing.

‘My cloak,’ Eir told him when he asked.

‘What’s with the box?’

Eir looked down at the box and shrugged. ‘It’s just what Odin gave
us to keep it in.’

‘All the Valkyries have one?’

‘Yeah.’

He nodded. ‘Right. Let’s go.’ Taking the bag from her hands, Korvain
led Eir from the house, waiting while she locked it up again.

‘We’ll go to Sigrun and Astrid’s place first then Kristy’s on the
way back to the club.’

They both faded to the address on Lime, and Korvain froze. All the fine
hairs on the back of his neck were instantly set on end. Eir must have sensed
the danger, too, whimpering his name. Without another thought, he pulled Eir
into the shadows, calling them to him.

‘Stay here,’ he hissed. He was scaring her, he knew that, but if she
were to get killed on his watch Bryn would skin him alive. Korvain willed the
shadows to swathe Eir’s body before stepping away from his charge and up the
two steps of the stoop.

The instant he pushed the door open, he smelled the blood. His fangs
throbbed and hummed, punching out through his upper jaw. Following his nose, he
cautiously moved through the house, his Sig drawn, keeping his eyes swivelling
for any other movement.