Two
Dita waited until the sun set before returning to the Refuge. The gates were closed, the impressively large green male no longer stationed in front of them.
Warriors patrolled the top of the white stone walls. Dita’s lips lifted. Had Kralj added that precaution for her?
It wouldn’t stop her. She waited until the warrior passed, ran to the wall, pressed her back against the warm stone, counted.
Sixty. Sixty-one. Sixty-two. He walked by her position again.
That was enough time.
Having scaled the wall five times during the previous rest cycle, while she was scouting for the ideal entry point, she knew her climbing speed. The ascent was doable.
Dita scrambled upward, using the natural indents in the rock as handholds. Her palms still stung from her confrontation with Kralj. The sand had embedded in her skin. It had taken her many moments to remove all of the granules.
His rough treatment shouldn’t excite her but it did, which attested to how fucked-up she was. A trickle of sweat dripped down her spine. There was no coverage on the exterior. The walls were illuminated. If beings glanced in her direction, they’d spot her.
What would Kralj do if he discovered her on his precious wall? He’d killed beings for less. The grisly display of mauled corpses around the settlement was a testament to his wrath.
If he sought to end her life, her skills as an assassin wouldn’t save her.
Orphaned at birth, Dita had been selected by the guild when she had two solar cycles. She’d been small even then. That had caused them to initially reject her. Then they discovered she was insusceptible to beings like Kralj, telepaths who could foresee a normal assassin’s moves.
Since that planet rotation, she’d either spent her time killing or training to kill. It was all she knew, had become a piece of her, a significant part of her identity. Ending lives was her sole purpose in the universe. Without that task, she felt incomplete.
But she realized her limitations.
She wouldn’t best Kralj in a fight. He was the one being on this planet she couldn’t kill.
That was extremely sexy.
It also concerned her. She had three targets to eliminate.
It was best not to be caught.
Dita darted across the top of the wall, her tread silent, and she swung herself over the side. A domicile had been erected close to the stone, casting a concealing shadow across it. Although it decreased the possibility of discovery, she didn’t take any chances, descending quickly.
Voices broke the silence, none that she recognized. She slipped into the darkness.
“I knew as soon as I smelled you, you were my gerel, the female meant to be mine.” A young Chamele male danced around an equally young human female.
Dita recognized the girl. She had been part of the religious group she’d seen enter the Refuge. They had an issue with violence, if she recalled correctly. That made their chances of survival on Carinae E, one of the most primitive planets she’d ever encountered, slim.
“You’re one of the wicked beings our leader warned us about.” The young female’s sparkling eyes belied her prim tone. “I’m not supposed to speak to you.”
“You have to speak to me.” The boy playfully pulled on a lock of her hair as they passed Dita, the two of them oblivious to her presence. “You’re my gerel.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“And I’m not wicked being. I’m a future warlord.” The boy lifted his chin proudly. “Soon, I’ll be the best warrior in the universe.”
“Violence leads to evil and evil leads to an afterlife of nothingness.” The girl teased. “You don’t tempt me, future warlord.”
“The Ruler of the Refuge is training me.” Her would-be mate wasn’t daunted. “The great Kralj himself deemed me worthy.”
“He’s a very wicked male.” Their voices faded.
Kralj was a very wicked male. Dita grinned. She liked that about him.
Because she was equally wicked. They were two killers, designed to end lives.
She dashed from shadow to shadow, heading toward the structure her targets utilized as their base. The lives she was ending deserved that fate. Todt-931, Todt-932, and Todt-933 were three of the cruelest humanoids who had ever walked the sands of Carinae E.
Before they learned she was tracking them, they had raided unprotected settlements, inflicting unspeakable horrors upon innocent beings. They’d then return to the Refuge, where they had sanctuary.
No one could touch them there. They were protected by Kralj and his rules.
A group of survivors had contacted her, pleading for her help, asking her to hunt the clones, to stop their cruelty, avenge the tortured and the dead. She had planned to ambush the males on one of their raids. It should have been an easy assignment.
But a traitor within the group of survivors had warned the Todts of her presence. Now, the brothers wouldn’t leave the settlement, hiding behind its high walls.
Dita had to bring her unique brand of justice to them.
Light spilled from a large open porthole in their structure. The brothers were clearly visible, seated around a horizontal structure.
Todt-931, the leader, lounged at the head, a yellowish tinge to his long white hair, his nose flattened, his purple skin scarred. Todt-932, the second in charge, sat at his right side, his hair ear length, speculation in his purple eyes. Todt-933 sat on the leader’s left, his hair cropped close to his head, his body tilted toward his brothers.
All three of them were drinking, laughing, talking, uncaring who heard them. That was how certain they were that no one would kill them within the Refuge.
That confidence would end their lives.
Dita soundlessly slid two daggers from the sheaths on her thighs. She should kill them now, fulfill her promise to the survivors. The first two daggers would eliminate Todt-931 and Todt-932, the first and second clone in command. The third dagger would be drawn and thrown before Todt-933 realized what had happened.
She hesitated.
Not because she knew she’d die. She’d already accepted that fate.
Kralj would read Todt-933’s mind, see her through the third clone’s eyes, come for her. He was scarily fast. The self-professed monster would reach her before she exited his precious Refuge, would rip her throat out.
The last thing she’d see was his twisted face, his hard eyes.
Dita embraced that future. Assassins didn’t have long lifespans. One fuckup and they were dead. And Kralj was worthy of delivering her death. He had gifts unlike any being she’d seen. It would be an honor to have him kill her.
To have his hands on her body, his mouth at her throat.
She trembled, her desire obscene, as inhuman as Kralj was, as she was at her very core. That wanting was why she waited. They were both lonely, warped individuals and she longed for more time with him, more of that rare and bizarre companionship.
Her daggers glided back into their leather holders.
She’d kill the brothers during next rest cycle.
Boots scuffed against the stone pathway behind her. Dita ducked behind a waste receptacle, crouching, making herself even smaller than she already was.
Todt-931, the lead clone, farted loudly. The others laughed and slammed their beverage containers against the horizontal support. No other noises pierced the quiet.
Dita peered around the waste receptacle.
Lights illuminated the flattened stone. There was no sign of life. She waited, waited, waited. No one entered the pathway. She slowly straightened.
A large form stepped out of the darkness. Fuck. She froze. His face was shrouded in shadow but she’d recognize those broad shoulders, muscular chest, long black leather coat anywhere.
Kralj had been watching her. His eyes gleamed, reflecting the light. He had banned her from the Refuge. She had disobeyed him. And he didn’t have a reputation for leniency.
She sucked in her breath, held it.
He looked at her for one endless moment. When he gazed at her as he did now, she almost felt like a real female, desirable, feminine, whole.
She wasn’t. The guild had ensured she’d never have a regular life.
Kralj didn’t say anything, didn’t approach her. He strode away, his fingers curled around the handles of two great battle-axes, the blades shining, as deadly and as primitive as he was.
Dita released her breath. He wasn’t going to kill her, not yet. She followed Kralj, perversely aroused by him, by his dominant stance, by the weapons he might utilize on her.
She was one messed-up female and he’d realize that, would smell her desire. Her nipples were taut. Her pussy was wet. He’d take her life but she wanted him first, wanted those unsmiling lips on hers, his weight flattening her body, his cock inside her.
Kralj slowed his pace, as though accommodating her shorter stride. He wanted her to track him for some unknown reason. They ventured through a maze of pathways, keeping to the darkness.
She was no longer alone. That warmed Dita’s chest. She monitored the space around her, as she suspected he did, and was acutely aware of him, of the way he walked with a predatory looseness, the rolling of his hips, the proud angle of his head, the blackness of his hair, the straightness of his shoulders.
He was leading her somewhere. It wasn’t toward the main entrance to the Refuge. They were headed in the opposite direction.
He had another purpose for this stroll.
She hoped it involved touching her, whether with desire or in anger. The first was preferable but she’d take the second. Killers like her couldn’t be choosy.
Kralj stopped, ducking into an alcove.
If he was her target, she’d claim the alcove next to him. But he was her killer. Dita sidled close to him, brushing her body against his, sharing his darkness, his warmth.
He stiffened.
She smothered a smile. The male wasn’t as indifferent toward her as he acted.
Moments passed.
Dita synchronized her breathing to his and followed his gaze. The domiciles situated across from them were dark. The pathway was empty.
What were they waiting for?
The door to a domicile slid open. A male, almost as large as Kralj, looked out, glanced to the right, to the left. Sweat dripped from the Ungarian’s hairy blue face.
He must have thought he was alone because he dashed away from his hiding place. Leather slid along her side, the lightest of caresses. A black blur crossed the pathway. The Ungarian was flung backward, slammed against the side of the domicile with an oomph.
Fuck. She gaped. Kralj was fast.
The cloud of gray surrounding him dissipated. He glanced over his shoulder, found her gaze in the dark, held it for a heartbeat. His lips curled back, revealing sharp, white fangs.
She understood the purpose of the outing then. He would give her a demonstration of his power, of his vengeance. Dita’s body ached with need. He’d show her how he killed.
No male had ever done that for her.
Kralj snorted softly, turned his attention toward his dazed target.
“I didn’t mean to kill her, sir.” The Ungarian held up his great paws in a pathetic surrender. “She lived for planet rotations after I—”
Kralj planted the axes in the male’s shoulders, severing both of his arms at once, dipped his head and ripped his prey’s throat out, spitting the piece of flesh onto the pathway.
Blood gushed, coating Kralj’s face, neck, shoulders, coloring the domicile red. The Ungarian’s feet kicked, gurgling noises announcing his impending death. His killer savagely tore at his hairy form, devouring him, feeding.
Kralj was no cold-blooded assassin, trained to end lives quickly and leave undetected. The Ruler of the Refuge ate his prey.
That should have disgusted, not fascinated her.
But there was something natural about it, primal and right. The Ungarian’s legs stopped moving. Kralj tore those limbs off with his bare hands, that show of strength impressing Dita.
She couldn’t remain silent. “I—”
Kralj flew across the pathway, moving too quickly for her to react. Bloody fingers wrapped around her neck, stopping her flippant comment.
“Don’t say a word.” He lifted her off the ground. “You disobeyed me, disrespected me.” His dark eyes were wild. His face glistened with crimson spray. “I should kill you too.” His gaze lowered to her neck.
Unable to speak, she tilted her chin upward, silently offering her throat. Her form shook, terror gripping her. She was in his control, couldn’t escape him. Would he end her life, ravage her flesh as he had the Ungarian’s?
Kralj became scarily still, looking at her with a pussy-wetting intensity. Blackness edged the perimeters of Dita’s vision, swirling toward the center. She resisted the instinct to struggle, forcing her body to remain limp.
“You’re fearless, little one.” His eyes glittered with respect. He shifted his hands, one at a time, to her shoulders, allowing her to breathe.
She gulped mouthfuls of air, her neck burning.
“I’ve never met anyone like you.” Kralj lowered his head, dragged his fangs over her skin, branding her with blood, with sensation, leaving a trail of pain, slight, stinging, sexy.
She arched her back, pushing her body covering-clad breasts against his chest, needing more contact with him. He growled, a thrilling rumble she felt down to her toes, and he pushed back.
The ridge in his leather ass coverings was long and thick and hard. Kralj was as aroused as she was. He marked her neck with his fangs, the light scratches, the exquisite hurt escalating her passion. The scent of death hung heavy in the air.
Dita wanted to reach for him, to hold onto his shoulders, to cup his scarred face, but the last time she touched him, he had flung her away from him. Instead, she caressed him with her body, undulating against him.
He held her in the air and sucked on her skin. Her heart beat to the tug and pull of his grim lips, her fingers twitched with each prick of his fangs.
“If you had killed those males, I would have ripped out your delicate throat.” He lifted his head, perusing that part of her, admiring his handiwork, the patterns he’d left on her. “I would have bathed in your blood.”
“You would have drunk from me.” Dita shuddered, his threats titillating her. “Taken me inside you.” Her voice was hoarse, raw from the abuse she’d endured. “I would have become a part of you.”
It was an assassin’s fate to be forgotten. He might have remembered her.
Kralj’s eyes were as black as the sky above them. “You should be afraid, little one.” He lowered her, sliding her form over his, until her boots touched the ground. “I’m a monster.”
“I’m a monster, too.” Dita smiled sadly at him. She’d once longed to be normal, had dreamed of living a regular, uneventful lifespan, but that would never be possible. Planet rotations filled with killing were all she’d ever have. “You don’t scare me.”
To be fearful of dying, she would have to care about her life.
“You should be scared.” Kralj returned to the dead Ungarian. “I won’t tolerate rebellion. It’s contagious.” He wrenched his battle-axes from the side of the domicile. “The next time you enter the Refuge, you won’t leave alive.”
“If you catch me.”
“I’ll catch you,” he grumbled. “Your scent is imprinted on my brain.” He gazed at the body parts strewn around the pathway, at the puddle of red at his booted feet. “The exit is that way.”
A wall of air pushed her in the direction of the gates. “We have another corpse to add to our display.”
“It isn’t our display.” He propelled her faster, walking behind her. “And I’ll have two new corpses to add if you return.”
“I won’t return if you banish the three clones I was watching, Todt-931, Todt-932, and Todt-933, from the Refuge.” She could kill them outside the walls, fulfill her mission, and not break any of Kralj’s beloved rules. “You know what they’ve done.”
She’d seen the aftermath of the clones’ attacks, the butchered children, the pregnant female, beings abused in all of the ways beings could be abused, and it had horrified her, a jaded, worlds-weary assassin.
Kralj would have viewed their assaults through the males’ memories. The experience would have been more vivid for him. How could he allow them to live?
“I don’t judge beings based on their pasts.” His voice was curt, the words snapped off as abruptly as he’d broken the Ungarian’s bones.
Residents hastened out of their way as they walked. They were both covered with blood, must look grotesque, like a nightmare come to life.
Dita scowled. “Their pasts are their futures.” She had met many males like them. They never changed. “They’ll kill again and again.”
“Once they walk through my gates, it’s their past.” He increased their pace, a blast of air against Dita’s back propelling her forward.
“They ravaged babies, Kralj.” She glanced over her shoulder. How could he give the clones sanctuary, protect them?
His lips were a flat white line, his face like stone. “They ravaged babies outside the Refuge. While they’re inside the settlement, they follow the rules.”
“You set those rules.” She turned, walked backward, trusting him to steer her in the right direction. “You can change them.”
“I’m not changing any of my rules, not for them and not for you.” There was no softness in his countenance, no relenting. He’d force her to break his precious rules and then kill her for that transgression.
She wouldn’t passively accept that fate. “We could hunt them together.” Dita changed tactics. “One target for you. Two for me.”
He said nothing.
“Okay.” She lifted her hands, her palms facing him as though she was trying to stop fate. “Two targets for you. One for me.”
Kralj’s eyes shone. Was he tempted?
“Kill with me.” Dita lowered her voice, not hiding her need for him. “Let your monster play with mine. It will be glorious.”
His lips flattened. “My monster would devour yours.”
She quivered with delight. “I’d like that.”
Kralj studied her for one long moment, then shook his head. “No.” He glanced over her right shoulder. “Dare.”
A silver scaled Dracheon warrior hastened to open the gates.
“You’d like that too, handsome.” She didn’t move her gaze from Kralj’s face. “Kill with me.”
“I said no.” He utilized his unique powers, shoving her backward until she stood on the outside of the settlement. “If you’re intelligent, you won’t enter the Refuge again.”
“I’m intelligent, but while I’m seducing sexy males and delivering justice, I think with my heart, not with my head.” Dita rested her hands on the guns holstered at her hips. “You’ll see me again. Soon.” She informed him smugly. “Admit it, Kralj. You want me to break your precious rules.”
He gazed at her, his eyes glowing with a nipple-tightening heat. “Good-bye, little one.”
The gates closed between them.
Dita smiled. He hadn’t denied her accusation.
Kralj wanted her to return to the Refuge, to return to him.