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Authors: Jaye Wells

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BOOK: Fool's Gold
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I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. “Guess we'll need to call the sweepers to clean up this mess.”

He nodded. “How's the faery?”

“Not good,” I said. “But luckily Rolf decided to jump the gun and came to get her.”

Just then, the door to the roof slammed open. Mischa exploded through it at full speed. When she saw the pile of ash smoldering on the ground, she yelled, “No! This was
my
kill.”

“Day late and a dollar short as usual, Mischa.” Slade flashed me a grin that made his normally harsh face look roguishly handsome.

She stamped her feet and punched the wall—a vampire temper tantrum. Pitiful.

Slade turned to me and slung his arm across my shoulder. “Come on, Sabina. Let's go celebrate your first kill.”

  

I couldn't sit still on the way home. By the time he turned into my neighborhood, Slade looked at me with a rueful smile. “I remember my first kill,” he said wistfully.

Needing something to do to distract me from my restlessness, I turned to him. “Tell me about it.”

He shrugged. “Not much to tell, really. The target was a low-level clerk for the Dominae. He'd cooked some books and siphoned a couple hundred thousand before anyone detected it. Easy kill. But I'll never forget how I felt after.”

“Excited?”

He smiled, turning into my driveway. “More than that. The closest word I can think of is
aroused
.” He punctuated the word by slamming the van into park.

“Yes,” I said, looking him in the eye. “Aroused. That's the perfect word.”

He watched me in the dark, saying nothing.

“Do you still feel that way after a kill?” I asked, licking my lips.

He answered with his mouth, but not with words. One second, he was on his side of the van, watching me with heat in his eyes. The next, he was on me. I welcomed the contact, reveling in another type of adrenaline. His fang scraped my lip, and he sucked on the sting, heightening the pain…and the pleasure.

We barely made it inside before the clothes came off. A small voice in the back of my head wondered if this was a mistake. After all, sex and business never mix well. But, another voice said, you're off the clock. The mission was successful, and it's time to celebrate.

I chose to listen to the latter voice and welcomed Slade's tongue in my mouth once again. His copper scent combined with the musk of exertion from the night's battle. He slammed me up against the wall and I felt the drywall give with the force of his thrusts. I wrapped my legs around his hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. He filled me thoroughly, but I wasn't content to let him have control.

He reached up and grabbed a handful of my hair. I jerked away and lowered my legs. I pushed him back roughly toward a dining room chair. Slade smiled and obeyed. He fell heavily onto it and pulled me down after him. My legs bracketing his hips, I dug my toes into the hardwood floor for a better grip. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving small beads of blood I licked away. Slade groaned and urged me on with filthy whispers.

I'd had sex before, but that had been restrained, polite affairs with upper-class vampires who thought bagging a highborn mixed-blood would be an adventure. But behind Slade's tightly controlled façade lurked an animalistic lover. One spurred on by the excitement of the kill. My own internal beast rose to meet his and I gave him back as good as I got. Scratching, clawing, fucking until we were both left sweaty and spent on the cold floor.

  

The next evening, I woke when the bed dipped. My eyes fluttered open. Slade sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on his boots. His clothes were on and his keys lay on the bed next to his hip.

“You're leaving?” I said.

“Got to go pick up our payment, but I'll be back.”

“Cool,” I said lamely. The muscles in my shoulders relaxed. It's not that I expected him to declare himself just because we'd screwed. But still. No one liked it when their partner dashed out the door after a night of hot, sweaty sex. “Fifty-fifty, right?” I joked.

He smiled. “You don't give up, do you?”

“You'll find I always get what I want,” I said.

He leaned down and kissed me. Unlike the frenzied kisses last night, this one was long and slow. Tender. Almost like he was saying goodbye for more than a couple of hours. When he pulled away and smiled, I shook off the heavy feeling of foreboding. “Fifty-fifty it is.”

“Excellent. When you get back, we'll celebrate.”

For a split second, I thought I saw a shadow pass behind his hooded eyes. But then he patted my ass and rose. “It's a date. Be back soon.”

I leaned back in the bed and listened to him leave. His footsteps on the hardwood floor. The click of the door closing. Then, a few moments later, the van's engine roaring to life.

I clenched my stomach muscles against the tickle of excitement. Everything was coming together for the first time in my life. I'd finally made my first kill. Now my grandmother would have to accept my competence.

And the fact I'd managed to finally outdo that bitch Mischa Petrov made the victory so much sweeter. The look on her face when she realized we'd beaten her was worth more to me than any monetary reward.

And what about Slade? Right then, Slade was a big question mark. A very sexy, intense question mark. I scooted down into the covers as a smile spread across my face.

Sure, the job didn't leave a lot of room for romance, but there was no reason we couldn't be friends with benefits. Using each other to work off the post-job glow, as it were. And who knew? Maybe more would grow. I allowed myself to daydream about us teaming up on more missions. He'd teach me everything he knew about being an assassin, and I'd reward him with hot, steamy sex. Seemed like a fair deal.

  

By the next evening, my post-sex glow had turned into an inferno of anger. I slammed my fist into the table. “Where is he?” I demanded. All rational thought had flown out the window in the last twenty-four hours, but it wasn't until this moment that rage filled up the hollow place that logic had abandoned.

“Calm yourself,” my grandmother snapped. “We don't know where he went.”

When Slade failed to reappear the night before, I'd spent the first hour in denial. Traffic, I'd reasoned. By the third hour, I'd paced a trough in my floor. By sunrise, after several unanswered phone messages, I'd gone into panic mode. What if something happened to him? Every now and then, even good assassins lost their luck and fell under the gun of a pissed-off friend or relative.

I'd called the Dominae headquarters just before sunrise, hoping they'd heard something. Tanith informed me Slade had come by to collect the payment as expected. She hadn't heard from him since, she said—not to worry.

After a sleepless day, my phone rang at about seven that night. I'd rushed to answer, convinced Slade was calling to explain. Instead, my grandmother commanded me to report to the compound ASAP. I'd driven over with dread pooling in my gut like tar.

When I arrived, my grandmother told me what they thought might have happened to Slade. I couldn't believe it.

“After you called last night, Tanith sent someone to check Slade's house. The signs of a hasty departure were unmistakable.”

“But we don't know for sure he ran,” I said, hating the desperate hope in my tone. “Maybe someone kidnapped him.”

Tanith shook her head. “He also left this.” She slid a note across the desk. As I read the letter, my dread morphed into black rage.

The note was addressed to the Dominae. The content was short and to the point: “I can't do this anymore.”

“How could he just disappear like that? Surely someone knows where he went,” I said.

Tanith shook her head. “Sabina, Slade is one of our best assassins. He knows how to disappear when he wants to. He has more than a full night's head start, and for all we know, he's been planning this for a while.”

I closed my eyes. I'd been so stupid. A foolish girl blinded by hero worship and eagerness to please. On that first night, Slade had said he had a lot riding on this mission. I saw now that he'd been planning to leave before I even entered the picture. He'd played me for three days, allowing me to think we were a team, when the truth was I was a pawn in his plan to cut and run.

He'd mentioned not seeing eye to eye with the Dominae. And when I'd asked him if he regretted killing anyone, he'd clammed up. Then there was the way he didn't get the job done with Zeke.

“Oh, shit,” I said as the rest became clear.

“What?”

“Does Slade ever use guns?”

Tanith and Lavinia shared a confused glance. “Of course. He's an excellent marksman. Why?”

I closed my eyes and shook my head. “He told me he didn't like to use guns. He only carried stakes when we were together.”

“That makes no sense,” Tanith said.

“It makes perfect sense. Last night, he deliberately missed Zeke twice. He all but forced me to carry out the kill.”

“Why would he do that?” Lavinia asked.

“Don't you see? Slade lost his edge. That's why he ran. He said he couldn't take it any more.” I held up the note. “He used me to kill Zeke so he could collect the money and run.”

“Wait—you made the kill?” Lavinia said. “Slade told me you froze and he had to finish the job.”

Before this little revelation, I'd been hot with anger. Now, the blood in my veins became an ice floe. “Did he? And I'm sure you bought that, didn't you? Easier to believe I choked than to believe that Slade was playing you all for fools!”

“That's enough!” Lavinia yelled.

“You're right. It is enough. I will not be punished for Slade's choices. I carried out the mission as instructed. I want you to clear me for solitary kills.” I thought about asking them to pay me, but that didn't matter anymore. I wasn't going to let Slade's duplicity screw me out of my chance to be a real assassin.

My grandmother stared me down with black eyes. I didn't flinch—didn't give her a hint of weakness to use as an excuse to deny me. Finally, she lowered her chin. “Fine. But you must promise to speak to no one about Slade's desertion. Is that clear?”

I jerked a nod. “Crystal.”

“I'd hoped working with Slade would teach you lessons about how to be a good assassin,” Tanith said, shaking her head.

“Don't worry, Domina. The lesson Slade taught me was much more valuable than any he could have planned.”

“And what might that be?” Lavinia said.

I shook my head and turned to go. They allowed me to leave without comment. But as I walked out of the room and saw the hostile faces of the Undercouncil, and those other vampires who saw me as nothing more than a mixed-blood, the lesson echoed through my head.

I'll always be better off alone.

  

By the time I got home, my indignation had burned off, leaving the suffocating smoke of melancholy behind. I got out of my car and dragged my sorry ass up the sidewalk with my head hung low. It wasn't until I was almost on the porch that the feeling struck me that I was being watched.

I froze and looked around. The street was deserted and I didn't detect any life among the tall trees surrounding the house. A noise came from the shadows of the porch. I flicked my gaze in the direction. A small, traitorous part of my mind hoped to find Slade standing there. Instead, a pair of tiny eyes flashed from the darkness.

Hisss!

I blew out my breath and let my shoulders sag. “Oh, it's you.” I stepped onto the porch, where Satan was sitting on my doormat.

The cat's head tilted. “Meow.”

“Don't try apologizing. It's not going to work.” I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door without looking at the furball. When I pushed the door in, I held out a foot to block the cat's entrance. It hissed and scratched at my boots. With a sigh, I grabbed Satan by the scruff of its neck.

Looking into the cat's eyes, I hardened my heart. It would be so easy to let the cat back inside. But I knew it was only a matter of time before Satan escaped again. I shook my head. No, better to end this now. I didn't have room in my life for anyone or anything. Certainly not for an ungrateful beast who shit all over my life before running away. “It's over, Satan,” I said. “Don't come back.”

I walked to the edge of the porch and set him below the step. The cat fell back on its butt and meowed up at me. I put my hands on my hips. “Go! Get out of here.”

I flashed my fangs and hissed. The cat's hackles rose and he hissed before streaking toward the treeline.

After Satan was gone, I allowed myself deflate. Going inside, I dropped my stuff on the floor and locked the door behind me. I leaned back against the door and closed my eyes. Silence surrounded me, pressing in on my skin.

Alone.

I told myself it was better this way. Life was a lot easier when you didn't trust anyone. Simpler. Simple was good. I looked around at the ruined sofa and the shit stains on my living room rug. I'd learned the hard way that opening myself up to trusting others was messy.

Pushing off the door, I went into my kitchen for a beer. I pulled back the tab and drank deeply. But the carbonation couldn't wash away the bitter taste on my tongue. When I lowered the beer, my gaze landed on the bag of cat food and the shiny bowls I'd bought for Satan.

I pursed my lips and tried to decide what to do with all the gear I'd bought. I could throw them away. But right then, an image of Satan with its hackles up rose in my mind. I thought about the notch out of its ear from fighting. I thought about the matted hair and the aggression. No wonder Satan had been so angry. The cat never found anyone it could trust, either.

My decision made, I filled one bowl with food and the other with water. Before I could second-guess myself, I snuck out the front door and stashed the food in the far corner of my porch. Then I went back inside, locked the door, and stood at the window.

BOOK: Fool's Gold
5.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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