Marked by an Assassin (14 page)

He opened his mouth and didn’t have a chance to get the first word of his apology out.

Cavanaugh grabbed him and Harbin tensed, prepared to take a blow, but then his brother’s arms wrapped around him like steel bands, crushing him with the strength of his embrace. The warmth of his skin, the familiar scent of him, sent all of Harbin’s strength flooding from him and he sank against Cavanaugh, feeling as if he was dreaming or had maybe finally lost his mind, because it felt too good to be real.

“Gods, I’ve been looking for you for five fucking years, you little bastard… where the fuck have you been?” Those words, growled in his ear with so much anger and affection, drained the last of Harbin’s strength and he couldn’t find his voice to answer.

He closed his eyes and hoped to the gods Hartt and Fuery were too busy arguing with Sable and Thorne about what had happened back at the Archangel facility to notice how pathetic he was acting, stripped of his strength by nothing more than a tight bear hug from his brother. The guild would laugh their arses off at him and his reputation as a merciless assassin would be shot if word got out about this.

The darker side of him said to push his brother away and remember what he was now, he was that merciless assassin with blood on his hands, but the softer part wanted to stay a little longer, absorbing what it felt like because he couldn’t remember ever experiencing this. He felt wanted. Loved. Even when he knew he didn’t deserve it.

Cavanaugh cleared his throat, released him and scrubbed a hand around the back of his neck. “We should probably go somewhere private to talk.”

The awkward edge to his brother’s pale eyes drew Harbin’s focus back to the others in the room with them and he barely stifled his cringe as he realised that Hartt had witnessed the public display of affection. Thank the gods that Fuery was too busy growling and flashing fangs at the demon king, practically nose-to-nose with the massive brute.

The door in the back wall banged open again, throwing a brief burst of white light across the room.

“Hartt?” Silence descended as a soft female voice rose above the din and the tension already filling the air grew thicker.

Cavanaugh swung towards the source of the voice, shifting to one side of Harbin and revealing the female to him. Another elf. It was rare to see a female outside of the elf lands in Hell, and even rarer to see one stand with her head tipped up, radiating confidence in the company of so many males. Strength. This was one female who knew how to handle herself and the look in her violet eyes said she was considering dealing out some punishment to his boss for some reason.

If Harbin had to guess, he would say they had a history and that it hadn’t ended well.

The elf female stepped further into the room, her fall of black hair brushing her shoulders and melting into the long black satin negligee she wore.

Harbin was about to look to Hartt for an explanation when all Hell broke loose.

The jaguar shifter roared, the strange sound echoing around the expansive nightclub, and launched himself at Hartt. Harbin swiftly sidestepped out of the path of the male, moving closer to his brother and readying his own claws. The jaguar slammed into Hartt, knocking him back a few steps, but his boss was quick to defend, blocking each fierce blow the sandy-haired male dealt.

Hartt teleported and appeared right in front of the female elf.

Harbin cringed. Was his boss insane? Was he trying to get himself killed? It was obvious to Harbin that the jaguar was mated to the female elf, and he was fairly sure Hartt knew it too. He was provoking the jaguar on purpose, but Harbin didn’t have a damned clue why.

The jaguar roared again, the sound deafening in the heavy silence, and sprang towards Hartt, landing right behind the taller elf male, his eyes glowing dangerously in the low light. Hartt ducked to his left, dodging the blow the jaguar aimed at the back of his head, and twisted to face him.

Hartt actually smiled at his enemy.

Maybe Fuery wasn’t the only mad bastard in the guild’s ranks.

“How the hell do you know my mate?” the jaguar snarled and slashed with his claws, frustration rolling off him as Hartt dodged again, nimbly strafing to his left and coming around behind him.

“We were engaged once,” Hartt said and it explained a lot, and also made the whole messed up situation reach boiling point.

“Kyter,” the female elf snapped in a firm tone but her mate wasn’t listening.

Kyter roared and kicked off, hurling a hard right hook at Hartt’s face. Hartt went to dodge to avoid it and the jaguar moved with speed beyond what was possible for his species, catching the elf with a swift left that had him staggering sideways and growling. The noise level in the room rose as Hartt finally stopped evading Kyter and attacked him, landing several blows but receiving just as many as he dealt as they danced around the room.

Cavanaugh backed off and Harbin joined him, giving the two room to work out their differences.

The bitter scent of anger and frustration rolled from the blonde mortal female at the bar with the elf leader, growing stronger as the room grew louder. Whatever she and the elf were doing to Loke, they were trying to help him and the fight wasn’t helping them concentrate. He looked back at Hartt and Kyter as they grappled with each other, tempted to intervene and give the mortal female a shot at helping the dragon shifter. He could sense Loke weakening and, as heartless as he tried to be, he didn’t want to see the male die.

“You must stop disappearing like this, my prince.” A male dressed in the black armour of the elves appeared close to the one Harbin had pegged as some sort of leader of their species and answered one of the questions that had been plaguing Harbin.

The male was a prince.

The
prince.

The prince’s hand tensed against the back of the mortal female’s neck and she squawked. “I am sorry.”

The new elf male huffed, but there was no anger in it, nor frustration. If anything, it sounded teasing to Harbin. Was this male a sort of babysitter for the prince? The two had to be close if the prince accepted the way he had spoken to him, chastising him in front of others in a manner that almost challenged his authority.

The female in the negligee pinned him with wide violet eyes. “Bleu?”

The male looked over his shoulder at her, his wild blue-black hair parting to reveal the pointed tips of his ears as he brushed it back from his face. Lights flashed over that face, and Harbin recognised it. Not a babysitter, but a commander. Harbin had crossed paths with the elf in the past and each encounter had left him with new scars.

He smiled grimly. He had given as good as he had got though, adding a few new scars to the male’s collection. Elves weren’t the only ones with weapons capable of cutting through their armour. Harbin’s blades were made of the same material, a gift from Hartt the day he had proven himself as a member of the guild by eradicating three powerful fae and protecting injured comrades.

Bleu frowned at the female, and then turned on the spot, his gaze swinging towards the source of the commotion. It landed on Harbin, a brief flicker of recognition lit his violet eyes, and then he shifted his focus to Kyter and Hartt where they fought in the centre of the massive room.

Harbin sidestepped again when Kyter went flying past him, stumbling but not managing to keep his footing. The sandy-haired male landed on his back on the black floor, pressed his hands to the ground above his shoulders, and flipped back onto his feet. Golden fur rippled in waves over his arms, and he flashed fangs as he growled at Hartt, his eyes bright in the darkness.

Hartt was pushing his luck. If the male shifted, it would be difficult to defeat him.

“What did you do this time to get in deep shit with assassins, Io?” Bleu barked and the female elf looked mortified.

“I am not in trouble.” She folded her arms across her chest and glared at Bleu. “Hartt is not here because of me.”

Kyter landed a hard blow on Hartt’s jaw and the elf staggered sideways and snarled at the jaguar through bloodied fangs.

His boss was going to end up needing to see the dentist if things continued, and Harbin wasn’t sure it would end there. Fuery was prowling the side lines of the fight, his claws flexing as he watched the two males go at it. The Archangel huntress and her demon escort both looked as if they were considering joining in for the hell of it.

But most worrying was the look slowly dawning in Bleu’s violet eyes, one that warned he was close to dealing with Hartt himself.

Harbin wasn’t sure what would happen if Bleu made a move, but pandemonium sprang to mind. It would be all out war as both sides took it as a cue to join the fight.

“Oh, that is enough.” The female elf huffed and disappeared in a burst of green-purple light, reappearing right between Kyter and Hartt, her long negligee swirling around her legs like black smoke.

She pressed her delicate palm to Hartt’s armoured chest and he sailed across the room, slammed into the black wall to Harbin’s right and landed with a grunt on the floor.

Kyter breathed hard beside her, each laboured one shifting his grey t-shirt and causing the long claw marks in the soft material to open and reveal flashes of bloodstained skin. His bright golden eyes locked on Hartt and then her. The dark abysses of his pupils widened, and Harbin could see the hunger in him. His own animal side rose in response to it, the primal needs that had seized hold of him back at the Archangel facility coming back full force to fill him with a maddening need to shift and track the female snow leopard.

He
needed
her.

His chest heaved with that need and he struggled to remain where he was, battling his body as the ache to shift grew stronger and the voice deep within him commanded him to find the female. She was vulnerable and alone, left at the mercy of an organisation that had done terrible things to her.

He had left her there.

He had left her behind.

His brother’s gaze landed on him, intense and focused, pulling his away from the exit. Cavanaugh’s silver eyes questioned him and he knew his brother could sense the struggle within him and knew the source of it. It was his impending transition into sexual maturity that was triggering the need to find the female and nothing more.

Cavanaugh frowned at him, a flicker of something in his eyes that Harbin didn’t like.

It was nothing more.

He looked away from his brother, unable to look at him when he was fighting the urge to hunt for the female.

Gods, he wanted to hunt her.

He wanted her.

The compelling need ran deeper in his blood than the usual urge to fight and fuck, and no matter how much he wanted to pretend it was otherwise, he knew it stemmed from more than hormones.

This need ran soul deep.

Cavanaugh’s gaze on him intensified and he paused as he realised that he had been rubbing his chest through his t-shirt, soothing the aching spot directly over his heart.

Hartt pulling himself up off the floor gave his brother something else to focus on, releasing Harbin from the hold of his knowing gaze. Harbin dragged his focus back to the current situation too, aware that at any moment the fight might escalate and he would have to step in to help his friends. He had brought them to this place, and he was fucking damned if they were going to end up hurt because of him.

They were navigating dangerous waters, and he doubted there was a way to settle the dispute without more violence. He was always the first to pick a fight over diplomacy, but he also knew when to pick a fight. He scanned the gathered immortals, fae and mortals. The odds were against them.

His side were highly trained, and highly skilled, but then so was the enemy. An elf commander, an elf prince, a demon king and two huntresses from Archangel, were more than a match for him, Hartt and Fuery. When he added Kyter and the elf female, the scales were tipped in their favour.

He doubted Cavanaugh would fight on his side.

This nightclub was his home now, and snow leopards protected their homes and their prides.

Darkness welled in Harbin’s stomach at that and he swallowed hard in an attempt to settle it as he tried to pretend that thought hadn’t cut him to the bone and left him reeling. He had failed as a member of his noble species, but he wouldn’t fail again.

Hartt and Fuery were his pride.

The guild was his home.

He would protect them both.

Bleu stared at Hartt, a troubled edge to his eyes that Harbin liked even less than the one that had been all about violence. He was trying to place Hartt, and Harbin knew enough about family to know that he was going to lose his shit when he realised who Hartt was.

Hartt locked his gaze on the female, wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing blood over his cheek, and proved to Harbin that he was as mad as Fuery and had a death wish to boot. “If I had known you would turn out so damned beautiful, I might have married you after all.”

Bleu’s eyes widened in recognition.

Kyter roared and hunkered down, his muscles coiling and fur flashing over his exposed skin as he prepared to launch himself at Hartt.

Bleu was there before he could move a muscle, teleporting right in front of Hartt as he walked back towards the female. Harbin grimaced as Bleu’s fist slammed into Hartt’s face with so much force that the crack of bone was audible in the strained silence and Hartt flew across the room again. His boss growled and teleported, reappearing right in Bleu’s face.

The male didn’t even flinch.

He grabbed Hartt by the throat and shoved him away.

“Focus,” the elf prince said to the mortal female and Harbin willed her to do it, because they were going to lose Loke if she didn’t. Whatever they were doing, it had been making the dragon stronger, but now he was growing weaker again. “Bleu will handle this mess. Will you not, Bleu?”

“Yes, my prince.” Bleu gave a stiff jerk of his head and a black blade appeared in his right hand.

Hartt flexed his fingers, his black scaled armour covering them and turning them into deadly claws.