Last Kiss Goodnight (Otherworld Assassin) (44 page)

Saw a strange man reclining behind the table, a gun resting just in front of him. Even as relaxed as he appeared, she had no doubt he could reach the trigger in plenty of time to put a hole in her chest if she made a single move in his direction. He had the same
I’m prepared to do anything
glaze in his eyes that Solo had had.

“Who are you, and what do you want?” she asked with a weary sigh.

“I’ll be asking the questions, girl. Who are
you,
and what are you doing here?” he demanded. “And don’t you dare lie to me. I’ll know it, and I’ll get angry.”

“Sir, there’s nothing you can do to me that hasn’t already been done,” she said. More than that, the worst thing that could ever happen to her had already happened. “And to be honest, I’m too exhausted right now to care what you do.”

He frowned. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

“Who are
you
?” she repeated.

“Someone who was invited.”

“Well, so was I. I’m Vika Lukas.” If he tried to take the farm away from her, she would fight him. With everything she had, she would fight. “And I’m here waiting for someone.”

A pause as he studied her. “My name is Michael, and I want to know where Solo Judah is.”

“Michael. You’re Solo’s boss, aren’t you?” she asked, as a little bead of excitement formed.

His eyes widened. “You’ve heard of me?”

“Yes. Solo mentioned you. Have you seen him? Heard from him?” Maybe Solo had contacted him. Maybe “home” was someplace Vika didn’t know about.

“I haven’t, no.”

Disappointment was a crushing weight on her shoulders, obliterating the excitement.

“He would never mention me to a woman,” Michael said.

“Because you forced him to kill people?”

His jaw dropped. “I never forced him.”

“Well, he’s not working for you anymore. He’s done with that way of life. He told me so, and as you know, he never breaks his word.”

Dark eyes narrowed on her. “How long since you’ve seen or heard from him?”

“Thirty-two days.” She set the basket on the table and flopped into the seat across from him, wiping sweat from her brow. “You need to eat.” His skin was pale and his cheeks hollowed out. He had scabs on his face and hands, and those scabs stretched all the way to the edges of his clothing; she would bet they even stretched underneath.

Another pause. Another frown.

“I want to know everything,” he said coldly.

She sighed. “The last time I saw him, he was . . . he was . . .” Stupid chin, wobbling. “We were at the circus. He kissed me good night, and he . . . and he . . .”

“Tell me.” A ragged command.

“Vanished,” she whispered. “But he’s not dead, I assure you.”

He demanded the details she had omitted, and she gave every single one, leaving nothing out. She told him how Solo was captured, how he was kept, what her father had done, what she had done, how they had escaped, the fight at the end, his final words to her.

Michael did not react the way she’d expected. He rubbed two fingers over his chin. “Until I see a body, I won’t believe that he’s dead.”

“That’s good, because like I said, he’s still alive,” she replied.

“And you know this how?”

“I just know.”

A small smile greeted her words. “Years ago, Solo used to say the same thing to me. He stopped.” The smile faded and he scowled, tugged at his earlobe. “Had my assistant not betrayed me, there wouldn’t have been an explosion. And had there not been an explosion, my boys would be on a case right now.” His hands curled into fists. “Did Solo mention anything about Corbin Blue or John No Name?”

“Yes. They’re his friends, and he loves them. He plans to look for them.”

“I could really use him. I’ve had men on the hunt
since I woke up in the hospital, and we’ve even found a few leads but with zero success. They’re still out there somewhere.
I
know it. As for Solo, I had nothing on him until he invaded my home in Siberia, but I had no idea how deep my assistant’s betrayal went or if someone else was working with her and didn’t want to reply to his attempts at contact. I waited, hoping a traitor would reveal him- or herself.” He pushed to his feet, the chair skidding out behind him. “One did, and the moment I had him, I rushed to the cabin, but by the time I got there, Solo was already gone.”

And they really could have used the help. “Do you think everything happens for a reason?”

“No. Of course not. I think bad things happen, but those bad things can be worked to our good.
If
we’ll let them. I have a feeling you’re the good that sprang out of Solo’s situation.” He peered down at her for a long while before nodding. “That’s why I’ve decided to let you stay here.”

He sounded so sure of himself. “That’s very kind of you, but honestly? Had your decision swung in the other direction, you would have been unable to force me out. Solo taught me a few tricks.”

He gave a sharp little bark of laughter. “If there’s ever anything I can do for you, let me know.”

“All I want is for you to contact me if you hear from him.”

“I will, and I’ll expect the same from you. Here’s my number.” He tossed an identification card, an IDC, on the table, a small round device she had only to touch to activate. The patrons of the circus had used them.
A screen would appear in the air just above the base, and on that screen would be his number and any other information he’d added. “See you around, Vika.”

He padded from the house, his footfalls quiet. If he had a car hidden somewhere, she hadn’t seen it. If not, he’d be doing a lot of walking. The house was miles away from any other home, and even farther away from the only grocery. Solo had a car parked in the barn, but she hadn’t found the key.

Sighing, Vika dumped the fruit and veggies into the sink and began to wash them.

A flash of bright light erupted behind her, and she grabbed an apple and turned, ready to launch it. The last bright light she’d seen had ripped her out of the only real home she’d ever known and taken her back to the circus . . . to Solo’s destruction and disappearance.

A tall, muscled man stepped from the center, and she launched the fruit. It slammed against his chest, bounced to the floor and rolled.

“Some greeting,” a familiar voice said.

Breath caught in her throat. “Solo?”

The light faded, and she was able to make out his features. He’d lost a little weight, and there were bruises under his eyes, but he was the most beautiful sight she’d ever beheld.

“You were expecting someone else, sweetheart?”

“Solo!” She threw herself into his arms, and he wrapped her in his embrace. He pressed his nose into her neck and breathed deeply. “I knew you were alive! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! And I knew you’d come back!”

“Of course I came back.
You’re
here.”

Wait. Her face was buried in his neck, and yet he’d heard her. “We can both hear,” she said, gazing up at him.

“My ears are operating at low volume.”

“Mine too.”

“We’re sharing the ability, then. And before you start to feel guilty, you should know that I’m happy to share. I . . . love you, Vika Lukas.”

Her bones nearly liquefied. “You love me?”

“With all that I am.”

“Oh, Solo, I love you, too. So very much.”

He cupped her cheeks, kissed her. “Where’s the Targon?”

“He left.”

“Really?” Confused, he peered down at her. “But I gave him the farm.”

Her heart nearly burst. “You traded the farm for me?” The otherworlder had mentioned Solo had been willing to give up a lot for her, but she’d never suspected his farm. His paradise.

“I would trade my
life
for yours.”

“Oh, Solo,” she sighed.

“Vika, my Vika.” His thumbs stroked her. “You’re going to marry me, and I won’t tolerate an argument.”

“I’ll argue only if you want a long engagement.”

“That’s good, because I plan to marry you today.”

“That’s too long,” she said, and laughed with abandon. “Oh, we’re going to have the most amazing life.”

“Yes, we are.” He picked her off her feet and spun her around. His heart beat against hers, the two forming
the perfect rhythm. She let her head fall back, watched as the ceiling spun round and round. Then he carried her to the bed and tossed her atop the mattress.

He was on her before she finished bouncing, his weight pinning her.

He kissed her, then lifted his head and peered into her eyes. “Are you ready to exchange vows?”

“It’s that simple? Really? Just like that, you’ll be mine?”

“Forever.”

“Do it, then. Vow.”

He grinned at her exuberance. “I am yours, your husband now and forever. What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. I vow it. You will now say the words to me,” he instructed.

With pleasure. “I am yours, your wife now and forever. What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. I . . . vow it.”

She didn’t expect anything to happen; she’d made vows to him before, and nothing ever had. But oh, was she wrong. Her back bowed, and a cry split her lips.
His
back bowed in the opposite direction, and a cry split
his
lips. Suddenly she felt torn apart, limb by limb, piece by piece, and even down the middle.

Slowly, so slowly, though, the pieces began to return, as though she were Humpty Dumpty, being put back together again. Only when the transformation was complete was she able to relax into the mattress.

Solo sagged against her. He was panting, sweat-damp.

“What
was
that?” she asked.

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, don’t ever do it again.”

“Me?” He somehow regained his strength and placed a thousand kisses along the curve of her jaw. “Maybe it was you.”

“No, you. So are we married now, or what?”

“We are, and don’t you forget it.” He lifted and meshed his lips to hers.

Thirty-six

I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.

—SONG OF SOLOMON 6:3

S
OLO’S HANDS SHOOK AS
he stripped his wife. His beautiful wife. Pale hair was spread out over his—their—pillow. And now . . . now, her rose-tinted curves were atop their bed, just the way he’d once imagined.

He could have her here every night. Every morning.

They could talk and laugh, and hold each other. They would grow old together. Have children.

“I once thought the three most important words in creation were ‘whatever proved necessary,’” he said.

“And now?” she gasped against his mouth.

“Now I know I was wrong. The three most important words in creation are ‘I love you.’”

Her expression, already soft, utterly melted. She held out her arms, tracing her fingers through his hair. “My one day has finally arrived, and it’s more wondrous than I ever supposed possible.”

“For me too. I missed you more than I can ever say. I missed trading senses with you. I missed your scent and your voice and your laugh and your touch.”

While on Alloris, he’d briefly considered hunting
down someone who knew how to use black magic to open a solar flare. But then he’d recalled the price Jecis had paid for such an ability, and the way the man had changed over the years, and he had known not to dabble in such things, even to obtain what he wanted most.

Thankfully, there had been another way. The way his mother and father had used.

Natural
solar flares.

All he’d had to do was wait in a quarantined area all of Alloris avoided. Only a rare few had ever left Alloris or had ever wanted to leave. It was a land of beauty, of peace, of joy. A few, like his father, had turned their backs on the utopia, choosing to break the rules, which was why the area had not been destroyed.

Solo hadn’t turned his back. He just hadn’t wanted to stay there alone. One day, he would take Vika there. One day, he would see X again.

“I missed you, too,” she said. “So much.”

He pressed his lips into Vika’s, tasting her, enjoying her, relearning her. He caressed her, and when she could take no more, when she was fighting for breath, trembling uncontrollably, he forced himself to slow.

He was so on edge, so ready, so close, and he needed her, needed her so desperately, had been lost without her, wanting so badly to have her back in his arms, to claim her once and for all, permanently.

She nipped at his jawline. “I missed this.”

“Sweetheart, you have no idea.”

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

“Never.”

She released a moan as he claimed her the way he’d dreamed, branding her, branding himself.

Her head fell back, and the ends of her hair tickled his thighs. Even that served as a stimulant. But then, everything about her delighted him. And that’s the way it should be. A man and wife should see the best in each other, should work together, should enjoy each other.

Solo would never take this woman for granted. He would never forget the beauty of her heart. And he would always strive to be the man she needed. They wouldn’t just have a life together. They would have a future and a hope.

“Oh, Solo,” she cried. “Yes!”