 
# Royal Blood

### (Royal Blood #1)

## Amity Cross

**Royal Blood (Royal Blood #1) by Amity Cross**

Copyright © 2015-2020 by Amity Cross

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All song titles, song lyrics, products, networks and brand names mentioned in this book are the property of the sole copyright owners.

**Cover Design © Amity Cross**

Contact: theamitycross@gmail.com
**Sometimes following your heart means losing your mind.**

### Contents

I. Royal Blood

1. Mercy

2. X

3. Mercy

4. X

5. Mercy

6. X

7. Mercy

8. X

9. X

10. Mercy

11. X

12. Mercy

13. X

14. Mercy

15. X

II. Blood Ties

16. X

17. Mercy

18. Mercy

19. X

20. Mercy

21. X

22. Mercy

23. X

24. Mercy

25. X

26. Mercy

27. X

28. Mercy

29. X

30. Mercy

31. X

32. Mercy

Other Books in the Royal Blood Series...

About the Author

Bad Blood (Royal Blood #2)

Other Series by Amity Cross

## Part I

# Royal Blood

_When you deal in death..._

_There's only one way things can end._

## Chapter 1

# Mercy

Kill or be killed.

Fuck or be fucked.

The Gambler's Inn was the kind of establishment you went to when you wanted to disappear. It was also the kind of place you went to work if you didn't want anyone to ask questions. Good girls didn't get jobs behind the bar here. Good thing I was far from prim and proper.

Mercy Reid was a mistake that had happened the day she was born into this world, screaming and covered in gunk. Mercy Reid wanted to disappear from a lot of things.

I wiped down the bar, tracking the cloth around the old musty dude who was sitting on a stool, nursing his pint of beer. That there, was just another way of trying to disappear. The mind was a powerful thing. It never actually forgot anything, no matter how hard you tried. The bad things always stuck and got you when you weren't looking.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing in a shit hole like this?" Musty Old Guy asked through a wheeze.

"Hard times call for desperate measures," I replied. No cash, no place to stay. I'd take any job I was offered. My mind went back to that bar job I applied for at the strip joint a few blocks over. Yeah, I'll take that back and amend it to _almost_ any job.

Working at The Gambler's Inn wasn't much better, but it was _better_ and the boss was slightly less of an ass. It was exactly the low kind of place I was looking to get lost in. They didn't want any trouble and neither did I.

The front door opened with a bang that reverberated through the loud garage rock that was blaring out of the speakers above the bar. The old guy in front of me glanced up at the commotion and his eyes widened. He chucked a bill by his half-full pint and scurried away like a startled rat.

Narrowing my gaze at the fiver he'd tossed at me, I snorted at the ridiculously insignificant tip. _Thanks a lot asshole_.

That's when I realized a figure was looming in front of me. Glancing up, my gaze collided with a set of the strangest green eyes I'd ever seen. They were almost clear, only a tinge of color threaded its way from the outside in.

Shit, and the rest of him. Messy hair just the right length that you could bury your fingers into and tug in the middle of a rip roaring orgasm, a strong chiseled jaw coated with dark stubble and what looked like a hard ripped chest. He wore a black leather biker jacket, the tiniest hint of a tattoo peeking out from the collar of his black T-shirt. He oozed sex. The kind of sex that was sweaty and dirty. All animalistic grunting from behind.

"Who are you?" he snapped and I realized that the old guy had known what was good for him when he'd bolted. The hottie had a reputation. He was purely fuckable, but even I could tell a dangerous man from a mile off. Didn't stop my pussy from convulsing all on its own though. You couldn't have a body without a mind, but it didn't stop either of them wandering off on their own tangents.

"Well?"

My gaze snapped back up to his and it was cold.

Snorting, I snatched up the fiver and the glass. "Mercy," I bit right back, dumping the beer down the sink.

"Mercy, who?"

"Mercy, none of your business." I glared at him as my nipples began to ache at the sound of my name on his suckable lips. "Do you want to order?"

The man leaned over the bar, closing the space between us and I swallowed the urge to lean right back and give him a lick.

"Weiss hire bitches now?" he growled.

Holding back the urge to slap the guy and bend him over the bar at the same time, I said, "Listen, buddy. I don't know what kind of asshole you are, maybe you're the dominating prick who likes to own women and put them back into the fuckin' kitchen, but I'm not her. Either you want a drink or you get the fuck out of my face."

His fingers curled over the edge of the bar, knuckles turning white, expression unreadable. I was going to take a stab at pissed off. Yeah, well that made two of us.

His lip curled into a sneer and he straightened up, squaring his wide shoulders. Without a word, he turned on his heel and began striding across the pub. That's when I saw the logo on the back of his jacket and paused. A skull wearing a crown was stitched there in white, with the lettering _Royal Blood MC_ emblazoning the top and bottom.

Shit. Another motherfucking biker.

It stunk of trouble with a capital t and it was the thing I needed the least. I couldn't ditch this job. I needed the money too bad. I was totally skint.

The hottie opened the door to the owner, Weiss', office and slammed it closed behind him with a loud bang.

Fuck. He had a grabbable ass, too.

## Chapter 2

# X

I was already riled up, but the black haired stunner behind the bar had jacked it up even further.

Xavier "X" Blood. License to do whatever the fuck I wanted.

Slamming the door to Weiss' office closed, he stared up at me, raising his eyebrows.

"I was beginning to think you were dead, you stupid fucker," he said, leaning back in his chair.

"Who's the bitch on the bar?" I drawled, shucking off my jacket and tossing it on the sofa.

Weiss smirked. "Like her?"

"Bitch needs an attitude adjustment."

"I knew you two would hit it off."

Sitting on the sofa and kicking my boots up onto the coffee table, I glared at my best mate. I loved the fucker, we'd been through some nasty shit, but he knew what buttons to press and had a great time doing it. We were the same age, late twenties and were both stuck in the same god damned fucked up motorcycle club, Royal Blood. The only difference between us was that I was handsome. Weiss was ugly as fuck.

He eyed me for a second before saying, "Mercy Reid. Just blew in two weeks ago lookin' to get lost. Wild one, that woman."

"Looking to get lost from what?"

He shrugged. "She does the work, handles the scummy fuckers we get in here better than any man. She's proved herself."

"In two weeks?"

He smirked. Ugly fucker.

"You fucked her?" I asked, my cock tightening.

"She's not the fucking type, X. She fucks you."

"She fuck you then?"

"In my dreams."

Despite my rage being turned on, I couldn't help the sly smile that tugged at the corners of my mouth.

Mercy Reid.

Smart mouthed bitch. What I wouldn't do to press her pretty little face into that beer soaked bar top, rip off her tiny denim shorts and fill her pussy with my cock. What I wouldn't give to fuck her so hard she'd scream and moan and milk my dick with her cunt. I'd teach her a lesson in manners with my favorite body part.

"You're thinking about fucking her right now, aren't you, you dirty prick?"

"I'm ready to come back," I said, effectively changing the subject.

"Are you sure?"

"I've heard the word on the street, Weiss." Trouble with the Necromancers MC... _again_. Rumor had it that someone had tried to put a bullet in their president, Sykes', head.

Weiss fished around in his desk drawer and pulled out a big orange envelope that had been stuffed full of papers. And hopefully with a photograph or three.

"Target is unknown-" he began.

"Unknown?" I scoffed. Fuckin' amateurs.

"I thought you were good at this kind of thing? A little challenge scare you?"

Running hits for Royal Blood wasn't the way I wanted to operate, but I was in too deep to get out now. Getting out entailed getting dead. Besides, I'd lost my soul the moment I'd picked up a gun and let them call me a hitman. Fuckin' assassin. Having a soul in my line of work was baggage I didn't need.

Weiss tossed the envelope at me and I caught it against my chest. "Target is a runner. Six months ago someone tried to kill the president of the Necromancers."

I knew it wasn't just a rumor. There were a ton of fucks out there who'd want to do that guy in. I thought Royal Blood was bad when I first got in, but the Necromancers were a nasty piece of work. They defined the word evil. Drugs, guns, those were big enough things, but the Necromancers...their dealings went a lot darker. Rumor had it, they trafficked a lot more than drugs and illegal arms.

"Nobody knows who?"

"Nope. There's some leads, but the club hasn't been able to tie any of them up."

"Why are they coming to us? Royal Blood and the Necromancers aren't exactly known for being the best of friends." Both clubs had hit each other so many times no one knew the actual tally or who started it in the first place.

"They know a good thing when they see it," Weiss said, nodding at me.

"Desperation's more like it." They wished they had me in their back pocket, but I was sworn to the Blood.

"You want it or not?"

Without even cracking open the envelope I asked, "How much?"

"Don't you want to sit on it for a day or two? You ain't even looked in the envelope."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "How much?"

"Half a mil."

Sneering, I said, "Cut close to home, did it?"

"If someone tried to put a bullet in your head, wouldn't you want to know who it was to serve some revenge?"

"I assume Sykes wants to see me," I said, ignoring his question. "He's not giving a rival club member a free shot, right?"

"He'll call you when you accept the contract. No sooner."

"Then my price goes up."

"X-"

"If Greggor's handing over my identity in the name of peace," I air quoted the most ironic word in the sentence, "then I want more compensation."

Greggor was the president of Royal Blood. He was the definition of hard ass. He called all the shots and his word was law. Step out of line and you paid the ultimate price. Your cock or your life. I absolutely hated the fucker.

"I'll see what I can do," Weiss said through a sigh.

I narrowed my eyes, peering into the envelope. My first job back in a month and it had to be the big fuckin' kahuna. Complicated had nothing on it.

"You know, taking this job would make things a lot easier for everyone," Weiss said, lighting up a fag.

No more drive-bys, no more fights over money and women, no more territorial lines. Short story; a lot less fighting and a lot more revenue raising. Nobody wanted an all out MC war and that's what Royal Blood and the Necromancers had been teetering on the edge of for fuck knows how long. An attempt on their President's life was the ultimate tipping point.

"If it turns out to be one of ours, you know shit's going to get crazy," Weiss said, smoke streaming from his mouth. He flicked the ash off the end of his cigarette, pointing at the door. That was my cue to get gone.

If it was a member of Royal Blood, then I'd be fucked for shooting a brother. If it was a Necromancer, I'd be fucked for offing a rival. If it was an outsider, I'd be a hero. Either way, my identity as X would go from being a shadow of death to front page poster boy.

My life as a hitman would be over.

"Those things will kill you," I said, rising to my feet.

"No they fucking won't," he said with a chuckle. "You will you motherfucker."

## Chapter 3

# Mercy

_Two Weeks Ago_

* * *

Staring into the grotty bathroom mirror, I fluffed up my hair.

The remnants of black dye stuck to the skin around my hairline and I licked a finger and rubbed at the stubborn spots. When they didn't budge, I rolled my eyes. _Great_. With a sigh, I messed my long locks forward a little to try and hide it.

Black hair kinda suited me. It made me look like a complete stranger, which was the exact statement I was going for.

Grabbing my phone, a little burner I picked up at a convenience store a few days ago, I shoved it into my pocket and pushed open the door.

The stage with the sparkling curtains and seedy lighting hadn't changed in the last ten minutes and nor was it likely to. A woman dressed in nothing but a pair of thigh high stockings, red lacy knickers, six-inch heels and tassels on her nipples passed by me, her hand in that of a slimy looking pervert. She glanced up at me and winked before disappearing out back to a private booth.

_Puke_.

I was desperate for work, but not that desperate. I'd tried to get a job at the bar, but it didn't pay enough for me to deal with all the fucking gross men who constantly tried to feel me up...and I'd only been in the place for half an hour. I pulled a couple of beers, served some weirdos with wandering eyes and got felt up by the owner. Luckily for him he didn't follow me into the ladies.

Working at a strip club wasn't the kind of lost I was looking for.

Pushing out of the front door, past the bouncer and ignoring the calls from the owner, I walked down the dark street, pulling my leather jacket closer. I was running out of money and if I didn't find a job soon, I'd be out on my ass. I couldn't get a regular job that required tax numbers, ID and names, so I was shit out of luck. If somebody had of told me it was this difficult to disappear, I might've planned it out a little better.

A car zoomed past on the dark street, colliding with a puddle of murky water and it splattered all over me. Gasping, I held my arms out and cursed.

"Fucking great," I muttered. I was all on my own, totally skint, desperate, lost and now I could add wet to the list. Fucking great indeed.

Shaking myself off like a wet dog, I glanced up, my gaze catching on an old school pub across the street. A sign hung over the door, swinging in the breeze, a coat of arms painted onto the 'ye olde' wood. It was very...old world. The coat of arms was a skull with a crown hanging off its head with the pub's name written in an Old English script, The Gambler's Inn.

There were a couple of motorbikes parked out front in a no standing zone, but nobody seemed to care. That right there? That gave me a glaring indicator at the type of clientele that this place attracted. I was running out of options and this one was a lot better than working the bar at the strip club I'd just vacated.

This was either an omen or a warning, but I was beyond caring.

Sucking it up, I jogged across the street, giving the bikes a wide berth and shoved the door open. Instantly, my ears were assaulted with some obnoxious grunge music, all guitars and wailing lyrics. It was dark and smoky, but I could make out the shapes of booths and tables, an old jukebox against one wall with a sign on it that read 'out of order'. A few people lingered in dark corners, all of them men and all of them mean looking. Some wore leathers that marked them as bikers, but others I could pin as crooks just from the way they looked. A different kind of slime to the clientele in the strip club.

The place reeked of beer that had soaked into the carpet and had never been washed. I wrinkled my nose, beginning to wonder if this was the best idea after all. Maybe I should just turn around and go someplace else...but there wasn't anywhere else to go.

The clack of pool balls broke through the music as someone broke the rack on a new game. Realizing that people had started to notice me standing there like an idiot, I narrowed my eyes and made my way to the bar.

_Don't bring attention to yourself, Mercy_. Rule number one. Keep a low profile.

There was a guy leaning against the bench that housed rows of liquor bottles, most of them looking like they were the hard stuff. No fancy cocktails here. Just straight up or not at all. Simple, no fuss, take it or leave it kinda shit. That, I could work with.

"Yeah?" the guy asked, tapping the top of the bar.

Customer service didn't seem like a high priority here and I wondered if it was a thriving pub or a front for something else. Best not to dwell on it. Sticking my nose in other people's money laundering would only serve to get it cut off.

"I'm looking for the owner." It came out a little more hesitant than I would've liked. There went my tough woman card already.

The guy straightened up, giving me the once over. "Who's askin'?"

"Just looking for a job," I replied.

He narrowed his eyes and barked, "Wait here."

I couldn't back out now, so I slid my ass onto a stool and an old dude at the opposite end of the bar raised his glass at me. I smiled thinly and glanced over my shoulder at the dingy pub. There were more eyes on me than I first realized. I'd seen biker bars in the movies and they were all painted to be dangerous places where one wrong move could see some pretty heavy shit go down. This place was no different.

Rule two was show no weakness, so I sat up straight and shoved my hands into my jacket pockets. Fake it till you make it.

"You," the guy from behind the bar snapped at me, reappearing out of the shadows. "Boss wants to see you."

Sliding off the stool, I looked him up and down this time, a sneer on my lips. The fucking manners...

"Office is there." He jabbed a finger to a door across the pub that had a sign stuck on it that read, _Staff Only_.

I didn't know if I should knock or just barge in, but by going by the attitude of Mr. Sour behind the bar, I decided to go with the ballsy approach. I jabbed the door open with the flat of my palm and walked into what smelt like an opium den.

A man was sitting behind the desk and looked up at my sudden appearance. When he saw me standing in the doorway, his lips curled into a smug grin.

He looked like this thirty-something, broad shouldered, tough guy with a slicked back head of hair and a dirty cigarette hanging out of his mouth. Totally unattractive.

He gestured for me to close the door and I let it go, stepping into the room. _Balls, Mercy_ , I thought. _Show him your big balls. Don't let him give you shit_.

Taking a drag from his smoke, he looked me over like he was sizing me up. It was different from the way Sleazy Strip Club Dude had raked his beady little eyes over me. He was calibrating the level of sex appeal for his patrons. Pub Guy was looking to determine strength - I could see it in his eyes. That, and the fact that he didn't linger on my tits.

"You're the boss?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. This wasn't the typical job interview, but none of them had been so far.

"That'd be me," he drawled in a voice that was all husky. Not sexy husky, husky as in I'm about to cough up a lung, husky.

"I'm looking for some work," I began, but he waved a hand at me.

"What kind of work?"

I glared at him. " _Bar_ work."

He started to laugh and butted out his fag into an ashtray on the desk. "We don't deal with whores here sweetheart. That's Freddy with the greasy fingers over at Fancy's."

I rolled my eyes. Fancy Freddy. Figured.

"I can see you've already met him."

"And what a fucking pleasure that was," I bit back.

Pub Boss Guy smiled again. "You can call me Weiss," he said, looking me over.

"Mercy." The name I'd dreamed up for myself rolled easily off my tongue and Weiss narrowed his eyes.

"What?" I snapped.

"You've got bite," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I like that."

"Look..." I hesitated, wondering how far I could push this guy.

"Weiss," he prodded.

" _Weiss_. I just want a job."

"I've been lookin' for a reason to piss off that cunt Brock out there."

I cocked my head to the side.

"People ain't nice here," he went on. "Can you handle that?"

"Sure." I shrugged. "You lot have been a fucking riot so far."

"When I say they ain't nice," he went on, trying to hide a smile, "they ain't upstanding citizens who pay their taxes and are nice to their mothers."

Glancing around the office, my gaze lingering on the motorcycle jacket flung over the sofa, I said, "I figured that."

"Can you fire a gun?"

I raised my eyebrows.

"Sometimes shit goes down. There's a firearm in a bracket under the bar. You can't shoot, you tell me now. You can't shoot a shotgun, I'll get somethin' you can."

"I learnt how to fire a few different guns at a range," I said. "I haven't tried a shotgun, but I get the gist of it."

"That ain't a range out there, sweetheart."

God, the way he kept calling me sweetheart, like I was a little fucking girl, got my goat. "I can shoot a gun," I spat. "I can shoot you in the fucking balls if I have to and I will if you don't stop calling me sweetheart."

Weiss leaned back in his chair and started laughing until tears were welling in his eyes.

"Where the fuck have you been all my life?" he asked, reaching for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

"Those things will fucking kill you," I drawled.

"No they won't," he said shoving a smoke into his mouth and flicking his lighter. "You will."

"Don't push me."

Weiss took a long drag, the end of the cigarette flaring orange. "Can you start tomorrow?" he asked through a plume of smoke.

"Cash in hand." It wasn't a question.

Weiss raised an eyebrow, but didn't ask questions. "Cash in hand. Off book."

"Then I'll be back tomorrow."

"Hey," he called out. "What's your other name, Mercy?"

My heart stopped and face planted. I didn't want his questions.

"Reid," I said. "I'm Mercy Reid."

"Like that's your real name," I heard him mutter as the door slammed closed.

## Chapter 4

# X

I didn't look in the envelope straight away.

Instead, I sat in the corner booth at The Gambler's Inn and watched Mercy Reid serve at the bar.

I watched her tits sway as she wiped down the counter. I watched her lips move as she spoke to customers. I watched as she pulled beer after beer. I watched as man after man hit on her and got nowhere.

What would it be like to fuck Mercy Reid? What would it feel like to wrap my hands around her tits and squeeze? What would she taste like? Would she beg me to choke her while I fucked her pussy?

My cock stirred in my jeans, pressing against the material uncomfortably. Sticking my hand down the front, I rearranged myself, not giving a shit if she saw me.

Weiss was right. I wanted to fuck her, contract or no contract.

People came to The Gambler's Inn for one reason and one reason only. To get lost from the nastiest shit out there.

What, or _who_ , was Mercy Reid and her perfect tits hiding from? The devil inside me flared to life at the thought of someone hurting her. Not that it was an indication that I cared; it was an opportunity to shed some blood. Slice 'n' dice.

She glanced up every now and then, her gaze scanning the bar and when she didn't find whatever it was she was looking for, she'd turn to the next customer, clearly disappointed. Who was she expecting to find in the dark corners of this cesspool? Nothing fucking good, that was certain.

Leaning back into the shadows a little further, I took a mouthful from the bottle of _Corona_ Weiss had slid me on the way out of his office. He'd given me a look, a raised eyebrow that said everything, but nothing all at the same time. He knew I was jonesing over Mercy.

Sitting in a bar for three hours straight didn't seem to be the best way to use my time, but this was how I worked. Solving people was my strong suit and I usually used it for another end, but Mercy? She was different.

She glanced up again and this time, like she was looking for me, our gazes caught. Her fingers slipped on the pint she was holding and the glass crashed to the floor behind the bar. She cursed loudly, trying to wipe beer from her soaked shirt with her bare hands.

My lip curled into a satisfied sneer and I downed the rest of my beer as Mercy stalked into the back and disappeared.

Sliding out of the booth, I sauntered across the pub and ducked behind the counter. Nobody gave me a second glance. They didn't know who I was, nobody did, but they knew I wasn't anybody good. Peering through the window on the door, Mercy had her back turned, wiping at her damp T-shirt. I could step into her from behind and show her how hard I was...but that wasn't the way this game was going to be played.

As I pressed the door open with the flat of my palm, she looked up at me with blue eyes that gave away two things. Her hair wasn't naturally black and by the way her pupils dilated, she was amped up. I was interested in only one of these observations and by the way my cock began to stir, there was no guessing which one was the money shot.

Mercy glared up at me, trying to cover her surprise at my appearance.

"What the fuck do you want?" she spat, dabbing at her tiny T-shirt with a rag. "You're not allowed back here. Employees only."

I stepped closer, not put off by her tone at all. I'd had worse.

"I don't give a shit," I said.

She eyed me, her gaze raking from head to cock and back up again.

I quirked an eyebrow, my lip curling in amusement.

"If you want something, just fucking say it," she said with an exasperated sigh. "I don't even know who the fuck you are."

"X."

"X, what?" she said, putting her hands on her hips. Bitch didn't miss a trick.

"It's my name."

"X as in the letter x?" She rolled her eyes.

"Got a problem?" I asked, inching closer.

"Yeah." She nodded at me. "You're in a staff only area. You might be all buddy buddy with Weiss, but I don't know you from shit."

"The mouth on you," I breathed, totally turned on. I knew she had bite in her, but fucking Jesus H Christ. The more she bit, the harder I got. My gaze rested on her tits. Yeah, I was a tits man through and through and hers...

"You think I'm going to let you fuck me?" she scoffed, her bluntness doing nothing but turning me on even more.

My gaze snapped back to hers. "Who said I was going to fuck you?"

She pressed her hips forward, her groin rubbing into mine. "Your cock."

My hand shot up and grasped the hair at the nape of her neck. With a sharp tug, her head fell to the side, leaving her neck exposed. If I was an asshole, I'd just take her now, but I wasn't...fuck that. I _was_ an asshole. Asshole was too safe a word to describe the kind of man I was.

"No," I said, running my gaze down her pale neck and over her tits. "No, I'm not going to fuck you, Mercy." She gave me a look that screamed 'offended' and it only made me grin wider. "Not here. When I fuck you, I'm not going to share your screams with anyone."

Her entire body shivered and I knew I had her. Next time, she would come to me.

Letting her go, I let her hair run between my fingers and it took her a beat too long to step back and separate our bodies.

Giving her one last appreciative look, I turned on my heel and exited the 'employee only' room. I could wait. My cock strained against my jeans in protest, but this was one desire I was playing out and savoring.

I strode across the bar and pushed out of the door, rearranging myself.

I could wait.

I didn't have to look in the envelope to make my decision.

I wanted out. I wanted to get out of Royal Blood. I wasn't done killing, but I was done killing for them. If I had to do a hit for the Necromancers to make that happen, then I'd stoop.

My face would no longer be a secret to the so called enemy, but I could set up shop anywhere in the world. Graduate from motorcycle clubs to something a little darker and a whole lotta fucked up. There were means available to feed my compulsions and I would need it to keep on surviving. There was no place in the real world for a man like me. The real world didn't even exist.

I glanced at the text on my phone and at the building in front of me. One word to Weiss and I had a meeting with the notorious leader of the Necromancers Motorcycle Club. I lingered at the corner, watching various men come and go. Some in leathers, some in suits and some in plain clothes. Sykes had set up shop in plain sight. He had huge motherfucking balls, I'd give him that, but to ask me to walk in the front door? That was a stroke of genius.

Pissed me off, but I would've done the same thing had I been in his position.

Flipping up the collar of my jacket, I pushed off the wall and crossed the street, dodging traffic. I'd left the leather at that shithole I called home for now, opting for a suit jacket and open collared shirt. Walking into Necromancers HQ dressed in Royal Blood colors? That was asking for a bullet in my head.

Pushing through the door, I was greeted by a guy at a table wearing a leather biker jacket. He was an ugly son of a bitch with a dirty handlebar moustache and greasy hair that hung around his shoulders. He stared up at me as I walked in, like I was some kind of problem already. He had no idea.

"I'm here for Sykes," I said. "He's expecting me."

"And who are you?"

"Xavier Blood."

Handlebars leaned forward, his leather jacket creaking at the elbows. "Blood?"

Staring at him blandly, I sighed. "Like I said, I'm here for Sykes."

Grunting, he picked up the receiver of a phone that was hanging on the wall and pressed a button.

"You expecting an Xavier Blood?" he asked after a beat.

He eyed me up as he listened to whatever was being said to him through the receiver, his expression turning darker. At the mention of the name Blood, the name I took when I was forced into this shithole of an organization, trouble was a given. Hate ran deep in these parts, even though nobody knew who started what.

I had a revolver shoved down the back of my trousers, but I didn't need that to make the guy behind the table deader than dead. His throat would be slit before he even had a chance to call out for help. It would bubble out of his torn trachea, muffled by all the blood gushing from his severed arteries.

Handlebars hung up the phone, slamming the receiver back into the cradle with a loud bang. The chair scraped back on the tiled floor and he stood to his full height.

"I'm gunna have to ask you to leave your weapons with me," he said stepping around the table. "If you don't wanna give, then I'm gunna take."

I raised my eyebrows and reached behind me. The man went to lunge at the movement and I said, "Relax, chief." Pulling out the revolver, I curled my fingers around the muzzle and handed it to him butt first.

Best they think that they're safe. People were fucking idiots like that. Just because a man is unarmed doesn't mean he won't fuck you up the moment you let your guard down.

Some of these men would die for their leader. They'd die for their colors in an instant. That was something that never sat well with me. I was a part of Royal Blood, but I never really belonged. Not when I was forced. The only son of a bitch I'd die for was myself.

The ugly door bitch I'd dubbed Handlebars, nodded toward a hall that ran off the cheery reception to Necromancers HQ.

"End of the hall," he barked.

Without acknowledging him, I strode past and down the long hallway. A few doors here and there broke the pattern of blandness, all of them closed tight. At the far end, I stopped by the last door and turned the knob. I owed nothing to these pricks, least of all the courtesy to knock. Shoving inside, two pairs of eyes trained on me.

I'd never actually met Sykes in person. That was an honor I'd yet to achieve in or out of my hitman guise, so when I laid eyes on him I really wasn't expecting to see a man about my age, late twenties, early thirties sitting behind a desk, his feet kicked up on the surface like his shit didn't stink.

Ambition just ran deep in some people.

"Xavier Blood," he drawled, sitting up straight.

"Sykes." I nodded, straightening my suit jacket. He didn't look like a leader, at first glance he looked like any guy out on the street, but looks could be deceiving. You never really knew what anyone did from one glance at the surface. Their true nature came out in their little nuances...the way they conducted themselves.

Doing a quick survey of the room, I noted that the Necromancer's leader liked to conduct business in a death trap. One exit, small windows and low ventilation. A muscled boneheaded biker stood in one corner like an ugly guard dog, but like that'd stop me if I really wanted to cause some carnage. There was little chance of the normal everyday thug getting out alive. Not with Handlebars out front blocking the exit.

"Greggor certainly holds his cards close," Sykes said, drawing my attention. "You've got quite the reputation." He looked me over, sizing me up, his expression giving nothing away. "Pretty boy killer," he drawled.

"I'm here for the contract," I said, not breaking eye contact. "Not to trade insults."

Sykes snorted. "A killer who takes the moral high ground? That's a fucking new one."

The Necromancer goon in the corner stifled a laugh. Sykes had some balls on him, but that was part of the facade. I'd never met the man face-to-face of course, but I had yet to work out if the reputation was only skin deep or the fucker was rotten to the core and into his soul.

"You want someone dead. I'm here to do the job."

"He's cold, too," Sykes said to the goon in the corner. They laughed like I was the butt of some Necromancer Internet meme.

The dickwad out front had taken my gun but he was too fucking dumb to check for other weapons. Shoving my hand into the waist band of my trousers, I slid out a six inch switch blade and before it had even registered on their stupid faces, I stepped forward with one long stride and struck.

The knife imbedded deep into the desk, right in-between Sykes' nasty fingers. The goon in the corner pulled his gun and clicked the safety, but he was much too late.

"Games," I said, staring right into Sykes' eyes. "Talk or I'm out."

"There is no out," Sykes growled. "I've got eyes on you now."

"I don't deal in empty threats or insults," I snarled, angling the blade so it began to press into the membrane between his fingers. Cool steel pressed against the side of my head. "You really think that gun against my head will stop me?"

Sykes stared at me, daring me to back down. There was a problem with that. I never made a threat I couldn't follow through with. If I say I'm going to kill you and that's exactly what I'll do. I had a reputation for a reason. I _never_ failed.

After a tense moment, Sykes lifted his hand away from the blade and gestured to the goon to stand down.

"I know more than anyone that looks are deceiving," I said. "I'm here for the job, nothing more."

Sykes regarded me for a moment, his cocky expression totally gone and replaced with a calculated coolness. Looks were deceiving indeed.

Nodding toward an empty seat he leaned back in his own. "All business then."

"If you don't mind."

I folded my long body into the chair, my hand in reaching distance of the knife. It was still imbedded in the surface like a warning.

"Six months ago," Sykes started slowly, watching for my reaction, "I was woken in the middle of the night with a gun pointing at my head."

I nodded for him to continue.

"It was a woman, I couldn't see her face or any distinguishing marks. She was covered up like a fucking ninja." He shifted in his fancy chair like he was ashamed at admitting it was a woman who'd almost gotten the better of him. For a man like Sykes, being attacked by a woman was just as bad as getting his balls cut off.

"She broke into my house without setting off any alarm or raising any suspicion. I can only guess the bitch choked at the last second and couldn't pull the trigger."

"You suspect she's already a known expert?" I asked.

"We did," Sykes replied. "But we couldn't tie it to anyone."

"What happened when she realized you were awake?"

"I tried to grab her and there was a struggle." He waved his hand like it meant shit, but I could plainly see he was trying to cover up that his pride was hurt. "She was a slippery little bitch. Got away."

"Were there any hits you ran around that time? Anyone who could've had a grudge?"

"There were a few hits we did as payback," he said. "A family, a runner who was feeding information to the cops and a little weasel who was trying to launder money into his own accounts rather than mine."

I sneered. "So, plenty of suspects."

Sykes leaned forward, clearly over our meeting. "All the information we have was given to Greggor. I have nothing else to say to you."

I stood, knowing that this meeting had only been for the Necromancers to ID me. It was their terms and Greggor had accepted. I just had to play along like the good little killer I was.

"You better not choke, Blood," Sykes drawled.

"I never fail," I said, pulling the knife from where it was imbedded in the desk.

"You better not."

The warning was clear. If I failed, then I was done. I'd be the one six feet under and that was if Royal Blood didn't get to me first. There was no telling what they'd do. I had no choice.

Sometimes you had to do shit things to get things done. Shit things to even shittier people. If you didn't follow through, there was always someone willing to follow right through until you were the one who was dead. I'd seen it so many times, that shit didn't surprise me anymore.

There was no black and white in my world. It was black or blacker.

And I was the blackest of them all.

## Chapter 5

# Mercy

I was so late. I was always on time, but tonight I'd had other plans. God, I had a life and it didn't involve kissing ass twenty four seven.

My feet crunched on gravel as I walked up the drive toward the house. All the lights were on and I knew the moment I walked in, I'd get the shit ripped out of me. Was it worth it? Hell, yes.

Stepping onto the landing, I saw the front door was slightly ajar. I knew what was coming next, this part never changed, but there was no way to stop it. Stepping forward, I pushed the door open all the way with the flat of my palm, my heart hammering painfully in my chest.

The air stunk like gunpowder, copper and _rot_.

A man was slumped against the wall, a smear of red tracking down the cream paintwork. A woman lay on the floor in the hallway, face first. Another man was staring vacantly up at the ceiling in the living room, the carpet underneath him wet and stained.

Everything was painted red.

Thick, congealed, sticky, _red_.

There was so much of it. Pooled underneath their bodies, splattered on the walls and over the furniture. Sinking to my knees, blood oozed through my jeans but I didn't care. Grabbing a shoulder, I tugged at the woman and she turned over, her lifeless arm slapping into the wetness beneath her. There was a hole where there shouldn't be.

Bam. Right between the eyes.

Sitting up in bed, I clutched the sheets to my damp body. It took a moment for my mind to come back to reality, but the sensation of hopelessness still lingered.

Blood.

It was always the same. Blood defined my life now. It was like some omen I couldn't escape, references appearing seemingly out of nowhere. Was it a warning that I seemed to work for a bunch of bikers from a club called Royal Blood? I had no idea how the universe worked, but I guessed it was all up to chance. If we were all fated to meet a certain end, then what was the fucking point of living?

Crawling out of bed, I padded into the bathroom and turned the shower on. As the water warmed and steam began to fill the tiny space, I stripped out of my sweat soaked tank top and undies, throwing them into the wash basket. Wiping a hand across the mirror, I stared at my reflection, rubbing at my hollow eyes. Demons, running, hiding, disappearing... How long could I keep this up before it was too late?

Running my fingers over my lips, my thoughts went to X. X, the cocky biker who thought rubbing against me in the back room of The Gambler's Inn would make me want to go to him. Fat fucking chance.

It was obvious that X was handsome. Anyone with a vagina and a pair of tits could see that. Or a pair of balls if you rolled that way. Problem was, he fucking knew it. Did he really think his little submit and devour trick would work on me? Probably did.

Thinking about what might lie underneath that sexy leather jacket made my pussy twitch and I squeezed my thighs together. Yeah, I'd fuck him, but it'd be on my terms and in my own time. When I was done with him, X would be the one coming to me with blue balls.

Ducking into the shower, I let the water wash my nightmare away. Trailing my fingertips over my stomach and against my clit, I worked out another form of stress.

And despite trying my hardest, X slipped into my thoughts once again.

Slimy bastard.

By the time I walked into the cesspool that was The Gambler's Inn, I still hadn't managed to shake that nagging feeling. It hovered in the back of my mind, waiting below the surface. It was a warning, I was certain of it, but a warning about what?

I stood behind the bar in my usual position with my usual mask on. Surly and uninterested. I picked up some empties, cleaning the bench underneath for something to do when the door banged open. I jumped at the noise, an empty pint glass sliding through my fingers.

The glass shattered at my feet, sending shards everywhere. Bending down, I plucked the largest sliver and the ragged edge tore at my finger. Red began to seep from the cut and I shoved my finger into my mouth and sucked. As the copper tang hit my taste buds so did the image of blood and I closed my eyes. Fucking dead bodies everywhere.

"Fuck," I cursed.

Weiss tapped the top of the bar, making me look up. "You okay, Mercy?"

"Yeah. Dropped the fuckin' thing." I gestured to the floor.

He eyed me as I snatched up a dustpan and began sweeping the mess. "Seriously, I might be a prick, but you're edgy tonight."

"Edgy?" The dream had stuck with me longer than usual. It had been easing off the last two weeks. Until last night. Until X had walked into the bar and rubbed against me.

Weiss nodded. "Yeah. You all good? Anybody giving you trouble?"

"No. Nothing I can't handle."

"You tell me if they are, Mercy," he went on. "We don't take kindly to people coming in here and messing with our stuff."

"Oh, so I'm stuff now?" I said with a scowl.

He grinned at me. "That's more like it."

Sighing loudly, I swept up as much of the broken glass as I could, dumping it into the bin just inside the back room. Shoving the door open with my shoulder, I was greeted by my stupid wet dream X, who had appeared at the bar with Weiss. Those fucking men had to be best mates by the way they hung around. X looked different when they were together.

"You're spending a lot of time here, X," Weiss said. It sounded like they were sharing some secret bro code I was unaware of. That, or Weiss knew X was in the middle of playing games with me. Which meant he did it often, not that I thought I was a special little snowflake or anything.

X shrugged, his gaze zeroing in on me as I walked up to man the till.

"Haven't you got a job to do?" Weiss went on.

"I'm taking a break," he drawled, sliding onto a stool.

Weiss turned to me and said, "Charge the fucker double."

"I was aiming for at least triple," I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Charge him quadruple and keep the difference."

"Assholes," X said, pretending to be offended, but I caught the sparkle in his eye. I didn't really know the guy, but every emotion he'd let play over his handsome fucking face had never reached his eyes. Never. Not until now and it was gone just as suddenly as it had appeared.

"What do you want?" I asked as Weiss disappeared into his office.

" _Corona_."

Wrenching open the fridge, I pulled out a bottle and anchored the cap on the edge of the bench and popped it open. Slamming it down in front of him, the beer began to foam up. Hope it went fucking flat.

"What's up your ass?" X asked, flinging me a tenner. It fluttered across the bar and landed in the sink.

Snatching it up, I rubbed the note against my jeans. "None of your fucking business."

How could a man with his head stuck so far up his ass that he couldn't see the sun shine be so fucking... _hot_?

"You're off your game, Mercy," he drawled in his sexy lilt and I felt my pussy begin manufacturing juices like a little whore.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I declared, my voice extra sickly sweet, "but there's only one person here playing a game like a child and it isn't me."

Spinning on my heel, I punched the asshole's order on the till and promptly pocketed the change.

X was still sitting there, watching me with his usual nothing expression so I added, "Thanks for the tip."

He grunted, putting the bottle against his lips and despite myself, I followed their movement as he took a swig of beer. His eyebrow rose.

"You're still there," I declared, annoyed that he'd caught me staring, I bet he thought I'd already be rubbing against him like a cat in heat after the other night.

"It's free fucking country," he said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the bar.

Glaring, I said, "If you want me to ride your dick X, you've gotta juice me up first."

His lips quirked. "Whatever happened to 'the customer is always right'?"

"Well, they never met you." I rolled my eyes and got busy cleaning empty glasses by hand. The bar hadn't gotten any busier in the last five minutes and X was too bloody distracting.

X chuckled and the smile that lit up his face was knicker-melting. "I'm not that bad."

"Weiss seems to think you are."

"Weiss is an asshole," he spat like his mate had just ruined his fun.

"You're in a motorcycle club," I added. "That's trouble and strife right there."

"Let me guess, you don't need it?"

Buffing a pint glass with a clean tea towel, I shrugged. I didn't want anyone knowing my business, least of all X whatever the rest of his name was.

"Are you in trouble?" he asked, his voice low.

"While we're on topic," I snapped, slightly scared that he'd picked up on it so soon, "I'll use one of your favorite lines. _None of your fucking business_."

The office door opened and Weiss walked out. When he saw X still sitting by the bar, he strode across the room.

X glanced over his shoulder, his gaze following mine and slid from his stool.

"X," Weiss said, nodding his head back to the office door.

The two men left me behind the bar without any acknowledgement and disappeared. That solved that then, they were having an affair.

Snorting, I straightened up as the outside door opened and a customer walked in.

Unlikely. X and Weiss were probably plotting some diabolical criminal plot. That, I wasn't touching with a forty-foot pole. Not even if you paid me.

A half hour later, the office door opened and X appeared. He strode across the pub and pushed out the door without even glancing my way. I kept telling myself that I didn't want him, but the fact that he'd staked his claim so bluntly and had promptly dropped it, got me all riled up. It could be part of his game, or he could've gotten the message to leave me the fuck alone. Ironically, I wasn't so sure I wanted him to stay away anymore.

Was it a case of treat 'em mean and keep 'em keen? What an asshole.

The bar was quiet, so I circled around and went over to Weiss' office and shoved open the door. I'd never knocked once and it had quickly become code for the fact that Weiss trusted me. And having a biker trust you? That shit was gold.

"What's up?" he asked, the cigarette hanging out the end of his mouth bobbing up and down.

I eyed the money he had laid out on the desk. Wads of fifties that he'd been counting.

"You owe me pay," I said. He did, but it was just an excuse to get him talking about other things.

"So I do," he muttered, opening a draw and rifling through the contents.

Perching on the edge of the desk, I crossed my arms over my chest. "What's his deal?"

Weiss glanced up at me. "Who?"

"X. He hangs around here like his shit don't stink. Pisses me off."

"It fuckin' stinks, Mercy," he said, peeling a couple of notes from the pile on the desk and shoving them into an envelope.

"What's his deal?"

"X?" he asked, dropping everything to look at me like I had a death wish. What the fuck did I say?

"What does he do?" I asked.

"Do?" Weiss asked, picking up the wad of fifties and stacking them into a neat pile. I didn't want to know where the cash came from because it certainly wasn't the bar.

"His job? Or is he just an arrogant asshole for a living?"

Weiss shook his head, puffing out a plume of cigarette smoke. "You don't want to know, pretty girl," he replied. "X is a mean son of a bitch. Fuck him if you want, but don't get mixed up in whatever game he's got going on. Here." He held out an envelope. "Pay."

I snatched it from his fingers. "Thanks."

Shoving off the desk and making for the door, I figured I was done asking the stupid questions I already knew the answers to. Stay away from X. Unfortunately, my pussy didn't seem to agree.

"Mercy?" Weiss called out.

I turned back, half in and half out of the door. "Yeah?"

"I'm not fucking around. Don't get involved with X."

"You worried you'll have to rehire that deadbeat Brock again?"

He winked. "You've got it."

"Don't worry about me," I said. "I can hold my own."

As the door closed, I vaguely heard Weiss say, "Not against X, you can't."

## Chapter 6

# X

Days upon days of darkness. Beating, blood, pain. Living, sleeping and eating in my own shit and piss.

When you have a strong mind, it's a hard thing to break. It takes a lot of persuasion to make a man forget his own name, but when he does...fuck when he does forget his name and his soul is hacked away from his body, that's when you have a machine to program to your will. And they programmed him to kill whoever they wanted without remorse.

The room never changed. Only the events leading up to it did. The beating might've been a merciless whipping while tied on the cross, or it could've been hot pokers on the rack searing into flesh...but the room never changed.

There was a man kneeling in the middle of the murky room that smelt like my own filth. A sack was over his head, obscuring his identity, making him a nameless human soon to be a nameless corpse.

"Shoot him," a different man said. He was standing beside me, a gun in his outstretched hand. He offered it to me butt first. "Shoot him and pledge your allegiance."

Hesitation would mean a bullet in my own head. They'd force me to my knees and execute me like a dog, but I'd been taught well. Taught so fucking well that I stepped forward, took the gun, clicked the safety off and fired.

It wasn't until the nameless body slumped to the ground, that I blinked.

Staring at the envelope sitting on my coffee table, I sank back into the sofa, rubbing my hand over my face. Too many things were keeping me on edge these days. Okay, so it was only one thing, but even one was too many.

Weiss practically told me he'd cut my balls off himself if I fucked with Mercy. What the fuck was with that?

Sighing, I picked up the envelope, trying to get my head into the game. Too much time off, that's what was wrong with me. Too much time idling and fucking random women, getting drunk and licking pussy.

Sykes said there were three possibilities. Three leads. There was the dead family with one surviving member, the runner who had been turned as an informant for the cops and the guy who'd been laundering money.

The informant had gone to ground in a safe house and the cops would never pull a stunt that included sending in a lone woman to put a bullet in Sykes' head. It would be a strike team dropping by with an arrest warrant, not a stealth assassination.

The shit who'd been laundering money was stupid enough to get caught, and I doubted he had the book smarts to plan a hit on Sykes in his own home. He couldn't even clear his browser history.

The only sure thing was the dead family. Classic revenge scenario.

It was the lead the Necromancers had followed, but the trail had gone cold. Tossing aside the other files, I opened the third and laid out all the papers. There were clippings from the local paper, reports on the police investigation which had gone cold pretty quickly. Sykes was good at covering his tracks, I'd give him that. What he lacked finesse in though, was killing. Laying out the crime scene photos they'd probably bribed out of some poor kid at the cop shop, I studied them more out of curiosity than anything.

Sykes was a brutal bastard. The young man who'd been the cause of the trouble had been shot in the head. Another man was on his back on the floor, half his skull gone from a close quarters shot and a woman was laying face down in a pool of her own blood. That one right there? She'd been trying to run away. The next photo confirmed what I knew was the truth. The bullet had gone clear through her skull. In the back and out the front. Right between the eyes.

This was a revenge killing, but nowhere in the file did it mention why. Which meant that it was personal. Sykes had gone himself to do the job, not a lackey like me, which was the glaring indicator. Whatever this kid had done, it'd cut Sykes deep, which meant it could go both ways.

Flicking through the papers, I found a picture of the last surviving member of the family. A daughter a few years younger than the deadshit that was her brother.

The picture was old, a high school graduation portrait or it might've been college. The woman looked all debutante and virginal. Baby faced, blonde, total straight laced with one of those honors ribbons around her neck. It didn't add up. She didn't look like the type.

Tossing the picture aside, I flicked through the newspaper clippings.

_Alison Crawford, 23, the sole surviving member of her family who were brutally shot dead in their own home by persons unknown_...

At the bottom of the pile was a missing persons report for the same woman dated almost a year ago.

It was possible the same woman who'd turned up in Sykes' house pointing a gun at his head was the same woman in the photograph. The burning question was, where was Alison Crawford now?

She was looking to get lost...my thoughts began to scramble in my head and I flung the papers back onto the coffee table. Mercy was looking to get lost. The raven haired, blue eyed stunner with the smart mouth. Mercy fucking Reid.

My cock started to swell as I gazed down at the crime scene photos. Dead bodies, blood, that fucking ass of a contract and a hard fucking cock...Mercy fucking Reid.

I was a monster.

I didn't have time to play this game with her. I needed...I needed to fuck then I could do what I was meant to. Then I could concentrate.

My obsession with Mercy Reid was affecting my ability to do my job. It was time to stick my cock in her and be done with it.

Grabbing my keys, I locked the door behind me, thumped down the stairs and into the parking garage. Kicking my motorcycle into life, I shoved on my helmet and roared out of the lot and onto the street. The city passed in a blur as I ducked through the late night traffic, splitting lanes and running amber lights. My balls were really starting to feel painfully tight and if I didn't come in Mercy's cunt soon, I was sure my cock would fall off.

The Gambler's Inn was quiet when I arrived. It was past midnight, right on closing and I hoped she was still inside because I didn't have the patience to pick the lock and go through Weiss' crap to find out her details.

Hovering just inside the door, I saw Mercy closing down the bar for the night. It was empty, the usual garage rock soundtrack switched off. Weiss' bike was gone and the street outside was like a ghost town.

It was like my cock had its own brain and knew exactly when to turn up and turn on.

Perfect.

I was done waiting.

## Chapter 7

# Mercy

The door slammed shut and my gaze snapped up and collided with X.

He stood there in his leather jacket looking almost manic and my heart skipped a beat. He looked...hungry.

"What do you want?" I snapped, pissed that he had turned up right on closing, obviously on the prowl. "We're closing."

He stalked forward through the empty pub, leaned over the bar, fisted his hand into my shirt and pulled me sharply toward him. Before I could react, his mouth pressed against mine and his lips were warm and hard...everything I'd reluctantly fantasized about. If it wasn't for the bar between us, I'm sure I'd be rubbing up against him right about now.

His tongue licked into my mouth, caressing my own and I think I moaned, but I was too startled to give a fuck. He pulled back just as sharply, letting me go, and stood there just staring at me like I was something to eat.

Fuck. Me.

My chest heaved as I gulped down air like I was drowning. I was a fucking stunned mullet.

"Lock up," X commanded, his gaze never leaving mine.

"I-"

"Mercy."

My name rolled off his tongue like a fucking aphrodisiac and I dropped the dishcloth on the floor, my fingers losing all sensation.

His lip curled in satisfaction at my reaction as I fumbled for my keys, going for the door. I was such a fucking idiot. X was...I didn't know what X was but it wasn't anything good. I locked the door, flipping the three deadbolts home with a loud click that was amplified by the tension that had risen in the air. I could feel his gaze burning into my back, traveling over my ass and I shivered.

Turning, I found X still standing where I left him, only this time he'd taken off his jacket, his tight black T-shirt hugging the muscles in his chest. Taking a tentative step forward, I hesitated when he sprang to life, striding across the pub and yanking my body against his.

He claimed my lips, licking into my mouth again in one long stroke. This time he didn't pull away, backing me against the wall, deepening the kiss. I shoved my hands into his hair, clawing at his scalp, tasting him like I couldn't get enough. My breasts ached against my T-shirt, wanting his touch and my pussy flared into life as I started to grind against him.

X pressed his chest into mine as I rubbed my tits against him, his hips pinning mine in place as we ground our parts together through our clothes, dry humping against the wall. Fuck, I was pretty experienced when it came to sex, I'd done it plenty of places and in plenty of ways, but we were still fully clothed and I was already teetering on the edge.

It was overwhelming and I never got overwhelmed by a man. I was always in control. I needed to be, especially now and especially with X.

I tore my lips from his and he clamped down on my neck, sinking his teeth into my skin. He obviously liked it rough and I quivered at the thought of him fucking me hard. He was dominant all the way. Problem was, I had a hard time doing the submissive thing. I wanted to cause him pain too. I wondered if he liked being hit by a woman.

I moaned loudly, shoving my palms against his chest.

X's gaze met mine, full of fire, and I almost caved.

"It's just fucking," he said, reading my expression way too precisely.

"Why?"

"Why the fuck not?" He pushed me roughly against the wall again, grinding his hard-on against my lower stomach. Lowering his head, he ran the tip of his nose along my neck and into my hair, breathing deeply. "Don't you like to fuck, Mercy?"

"I like to fuck," I hissed.

"Then stop trying to control everything," he murmured against my skin.

"I could say the same thing to you," I gasped as his teeth dragged against my neck.

"It's my job to be in control," he growled, thrusting his hips forward, his cock rubbing against my cleft. "Good for you and even better for me."

"What if I don't want to give it to you?"

X growled...he actually growled this deep throaty rumble that vibrated through his chest into mine. "I want to slide my cock into you," he said. "I want to feel your arousal coat my skin, because by the time I'm through with you, you'll be so fucking wet you'll beg me to put you out of your misery."

"That's where you're wrong," I gasped. "I don't beg."

He thrust a hand into my hair and tugged hard, sending splinters of pain shooting through my scalp.

Running his tongue the length of my jaw before brushing his lips against mine, he breathed, "You will."

He pulled me by the hair, dragging me across the pub and shoved open the door to Weiss' office, pushing me over the desk. Turning, I raised my right hand to slap him, but he grasped my wrist and then the other as I tried to claw him with my left.

X jerked me close rubbing his cock against my thigh.

"Do you want to fuck, Mercy? Do you? I'm not a fucking rapist, so tell me now. If it's no, I'll never touch you again."

I shivered against him, my gaze firmly stuck on his. X was a hard motherfucker to read, but he couldn't mask his cock and his cock said it wanted me. My pussy was aching with a dull throb that needed to be rubbed. Yeah, I wanted to fuck.

Letting myself go slack, he uncurled his fingers and smashed his lips into mine. My entire body flared into life with millions of tiny fireworks as he forced his way into my mouth, his tongue twining greedily with mine. Hands fisted into my hair, holding me firmly in place as he devoured me, pushing his cock roughly into my stomach.

I clawed at his T-shirt, shoving my hands underneath, rubbing the flats of my palms up over his stomach and clamped my fingers down over his nipples, pinching hard. He tore away with a moan, yanked the material up over his head and flung it over his shoulder.

The tattoo that I'd noticed peeking out from his collar was a black and grey tribal design, not the shitty kind that sports jocks got for kicks, it looked like traditional tribal from the wilds of the Amazon rainforest. It covered the left half of his chest, wrapping around his ribs and disappearing onto his back. It crawled all the way over his shoulder and up his neck and I stared at it, wondering what it meant. There was a hollow space, right where his heart should be.

Another fucking warning.

I didn't get any more time to contemplate that screwed up metaphor because he grabbed the hem of my T-shirt and pulled it up over my head, then he was snapping open the clasp on my bra. Air and X's hard gaze prickled my skin as he pushed me onto Weiss' desk, my ass colliding painfully with the corner. I cried out as my back hit the surface and X moved over me, his mouth clamping down on my nipple. He sucked hard, his feet on the floor and his crotch grinding into mine. I bucked into him, wanting more pressure _everywhere_.

Fuck, he was _good_.

He licked a trail to my other breast, biting my nipple hard. It fucking hurt, but the sensation only made my arousal flare hotter within me. As if he sensed I was going to come without even seeing his cock, he pulled away and began stripping off my jeans. He shoved his hands under my ass and tugged, removing the annoying denim and my knickers at the same time.

It was then that I realized I was lying naked, _exposed_ , on Weiss' desk, with a very dangerous man standing over me. A man who was apparently capable of anything.

X undid the fly on his jeans, pushing them off his hips and my gaze flickered from his down to his cock. And fuck...his cock. He was already fully hard and when he sprang free, it stood tall and primed. I wanted it in me.

Without a word, he grabbed my legs and tugged me forward. I gasped, waiting for the moment he'd impale me, but his hands clamped down on my hips and I was unceremoniously flipped over, my tits and face pressed against the desktop.

My entire body quivered as he spread my legs, my ass sticking up in the air. God, I just wanted him to put it in and fuck me.

Clamping his hands on my ass, he slid his cock between my cheeks, pumping a few times, his breathing beginning to get heavier. Abruptly, his thumb brushed against the puckered hole of my ass and I flinched.

"I don't... I've never..." I gasped.

"It'll hurt," he said, circling. "But it's a good pain. A really fucking good pain." He pressed the pad of his thumb harder against my skin as the head of his cock slid into my slick pussy and just as the pressure increased, he pulled out and left me hanging.

He hadn't touched my clit or put a finger inside me to stretch my pussy but I was already primed to take his cock. My legs started to quake with need, the overwhelming urge to beg lingering on my lips. I wouldn't stoop to those levels. I wouldn't give X all the power. I wouldn't...

He rubbed the underside of his cock through my ass cheeks, folding his body over mine.

"What do you say, Mercy?" he murmured, lips grazing my shoulder blade. Hands rubbed up and down my back before circling around to fondle my clit.

I thrust my ass back into him. "Fuck you."

X snarled, his hands clamping down on my hips, teeth sinking into my skin. It hurt, but he was right. It was a good kind of pain. I was so aroused, any touch was mainlining right into my pussy.

Fuck him.

He rubbed his thumb through my folds, smearing my arousal to my ass and he repeated the same pressure as before, sliding the head of his cock just inside my quivering pussy.

"Just fuck me," I growled, my fingers curling over the edge of the desk.

"Not until you beg," he replied, pulling out and thrusting again.

Not deep enough. Nowhere near _enough_.

Fuck, he was going to break me. Is that what he did for Royal Blood? He tortured people with his cock? He was good at it. Maybe he was a sick son of a bitch who got off on other people's pain. The ultimate cock blocker.

X rubbed the head of his cock through my folds, down to my clit and back again, repeating the process until I moaned loudly.

"I can do this all night," he said. His voice was steady, not giving away anything. He was always so in fucking control it made anger flare deep inside me.

"Selfish fuck," I hissed.

"I hear you're the kind of woman who fucks men, not the other way around." His cock dipped inside my pussy again. "Well, Mercy..." My name rolled off his lips with such _hunger_ , it made me screw my eyes shut tightly. "I fuck women. They don't fuck me. If you want to come, you have to beg."

"What if I don't?" I gasped, trying to force myself onto his dick.

"Then I'll get dressed, walk out and find another hole to stick my cock in."

"Shit, you're a fucking romantic."

"I prefer the term, realist."

"Heartless," I whispered, finally getting the meaning behind his tattoo. The space over his heart was empty for a reason. He was empty inside. Soulless. It had to be.

X snarled, fisting a hand into my hair and jerking my head back. "Fucking say it," he growled. "Beg for it."

Weiss was right. Fuck him, but don't get involved in his games. X was dark. There was no grey in his world. That was the thing, though. My world had gone dark months ago, too. Maybe not pitch black like that of the man whose cock I wanted, but dark enough.

My ass was in the air, X's cock was hot against my most private parts and rationality had ceased to exist. I was an animal, primed and ready and I needed to fuck. Semantics didn't even come into it at this stage. All I wanted was a cock in my pussy and there was one pushing at my opening, waiting for the word.

"Please," I whispered. "Please, X. Fuck me."

He thrust hard, sliding home deep inside my pussy and I cried out, my eyes widening at the sensation. I was so aroused, I felt every touch in my core, collecting, waiting to spill over and claim me.

He drew out and pounded into me again, our skin slapping together. Then he let go of himself and thrust over and over, slamming into me with unbearable force, my orgasm building fast. I panted and moaned as he hit home again and again, fingers digging painfully around the edges of the desk, holding on for dear life. I had no idea how the hell I was going to survive the explosion that was swelling inside my pussy. I had no bloody choice in the matter.

X grunted and buried deep, holding firm and my legs quaked. If it wasn't for the desk, I'd have collapsed a long time ago. He rotated his hips, massaging that spot deep inside that made me squirm.

"Do you like that, Mercy?" He slapped my ass with a sharp crack and I cried out, pain searing through my sensitive skin. "Is that what you wanted?"

"Yes," I gasped. Yes, because I did. I enjoyed being fucked over Weiss' desk. I liked the biting sting of X's hands as he slapped and tore at my skin. I liked his cock driving into me. From the first moment I saw him, I wanted this. I was just too stubborn to realize it.

He drew his cock out of me, leaving the head just inside. Without warning he thrust again, the same time he slapped my ass, the desk jerking and sliding an inch across the floor with the force.

X grunted loudly, his fingers biting into my hips, then trailing along my waist before coming to rest either side of my head.

"Hold on Mercy," he breathed. "I'm not stopping. Not for fucking anything."

"Even if Weiss walks in?" I bit out.

"Especially not if Weiss walks in."

That was all the warning he gave me as he started pounding into me from behind, his body anchored over mine, his hands on the desk. Impersonal, disconnected...but it felt so fucking good. He possessed me for his own pleasure, but his pleasure would be heightened by my own. When I inevitably came, it would be hard and I'd milk his cock until he was empty.

I felt my muscles tightening as my orgasm broke through, claiming my body, but then I felt something else I wasn't expecting. X slid his hand between our bodies and pressed a finger into my ass. All it did was push my orgasm to new heights I'd never felt before. It was an entirely foreign sensation and on instinct, my body bucked into his touch and his finger sunk deeper as he fucked my pussy with his cock.

God...I couldn't...

I screamed as I forgot where I was. I screamed my pleasure and fuck it felt good to let go. X was right. He was so fucking right I hated him.

He stiffened against me as his own orgasm spurted deep inside my pussy, his cock filling me to the brim as he pumped and pumped, his thumb circling in my ass, milking every last ounce of pleasure out of me.

Finally, I slumped over the desk, my fingers slackening their hold. X circled his hips one last time before pulling his cock out of me painfully slow. When he was gone from both places, I felt empty, a strange hollowness settling into my soul. What the fuck was with that?

Shoving up onto my elbows, I steadied my wobbly legs.

"Get dressed," X barked.

"But-" I could still feel what he left inside me.

He threw my jeans at me. "Get dressed."

I wasn't sure what I was expecting after such an amazing fuck, but it wasn't quite this.

X pulled his boxers on and I found myself staring at his ass wondering if I'd get to fuck him again. _Stupid bitch_ , I thought. _You were just a night of entertainment_.

He stepped into his jeans and dragged them up, finally glancing up at me. I was still naked, clutching my clothes to my chest. His eyebrow quirked, but that was the only emotion I got from him. If that was good or bad, I didn't know.

"Do I have to dress you myself?" he barked, snapping me out of my daze.

"Fuck you," I spat.

"I did."

"God, you're a pig," I hissed, turning my back to him and trying to dress myself with shaky hands.

I yanked my jeans on and let out a gasp as I felt X behind me, his bare chest pressing into my back. He didn't move to take me, to kiss, or caress. He just towered over me, his hot breath fluttering against my neck, the entire room reeking with the musky stench of sex. Fuck, I was wet again and it wasn't X's parting gift, either.

After a moment he said, "Where do you live?"

"Excuse me?"

"Where. Do. You. Live?"

Before I could stop myself, I replied, "An apartment building. Across the river."

"Take me."

I froze, my fingers fumbling with the button on my jeans. X lowered his head, his lips grazing my shoulder. After such a violent and impersonal fuck on Weiss' desk, it was such a tender gesture it scared the hell out of me. Did X even have feelings? I seriously doubted it.

"Mercy."

I leaned back into his chest as his hands came up to palm my breasts and my body sparked into life again. X was well on his way to being hard again and all I could think about was going for round two. Three and four if I could take it.

I was so fucked.

## Chapter 8

# X

When I enter a building for the first time, there are certain things I instantly look for. Windows, doors and which was the exit that would get me out of there the quickest.

Usually.

This time, I followed Mercy up a set of stairs, my gaze firmly planted on her ass. I didn't look for the exits, or the vantage points. I looked at her ass, wondering what it'd be like to fuck her there rather than just sticking my finger in.

The whole ride over, she sat on the back of my bike, legs spread behind me, arms wrapped around my waist and it was all I could think about.

One fuck wasn't going to be enough. I couldn't fuck her the way I wanted to on Weiss' desk. Not if I was going for round two.

Sex was usually an impersonal affair. It was all about the climax and nothing else. I didn't care what her name was, where she lived, what she liked, what she did. I only cared about releasing the pent up tension in my body. Fucking was perfect for that. It helped that I was handsome and knew it. If I didn't want to try too hard, all I had to do was walk up to my choice and she would do the rest. Then it was up to me to finish her off.

Mercy went to unlock her door, her fingers trembling and slipping on her keys. It took her a couple of attempts to slide it home and a moment later the door was swinging open into her dark apartment.

I walked in behind her, realizing we hadn't uttered a word to each other since Weiss' office. Somehow, we didn't need to. We already understood what was going to happen between us, so why ruin the moment and talk about it.

She went to flip on the light, but I caught her wrist. I didn't want to see her home. I didn't want to form a connection with it. I didn't want to learn anything about Mercy Reid, other than what got her off.

She stared at me in the dark as I kicked the front door closed with my boot, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. Dropping her hand, she fisted my shirt and led me through the darkness into another room.

It smelt like her. Like the spicy vanilla perfume she wore. It was her bedroom.

I began to undress, the frenzy that had overcome me in the bar was sated for now and this time it was more about savoring the fuck instead of taking it.

I watched her as she stripped in front of me. I watched as she sat on the bed, her eyes traveling the length of my body. My cock was hard again and all I wanted was her lips around it.

Standing before her, I fisted a hand into her black hair, curling my fingers tightly against her scalp and forced her toward me. She didn't fight, she didn't say anything, she just opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around my crown and sucked. Hard.

Letting out a sharp breath as her tongue flicked across the tip of my dick, I thrust deeper into her mouth, taking what I wanted. Mercy took me all the way and gagged as I hit the back of her throat. Her mouth was so fucking warm.

As I pulled back, she bared her teeth, dragging along my hot skin and I groaned, my balls flaring. Fuck, she knew how to suck dick. She knew how to suck it real good.

Her hands fisted around the base of my cock and she began bobbing up and down my length, her gaze finding mine as I guided her over my dick. She licked and sucked, her eyes watering when I forced myself to the back of her throat. I didn't care if she liked it, I didn't care if she hated sucking cock, I was the one in control.

Shoving her away before she could take my orgasm from me, I pushed her back onto the bed and she spread out. Her fingers found her clit and she began pleasuring herself and I fisted my cock, kneeling over her. How would I do it? Vanilla? Fuck her from underneath? Force her ass into the air?

Without thinking about it, I slid between her legs, spreading her wide. Her lips parted in a delicate sigh as I rubbed the underside of my cock against her clit.

Finally, I drew back and pushed into her. I should've thrust hard. I should've pulled her onto my cock and pounded and pulsed my release into her pussy, but instead I filled her with my cock and held steady, delighting in the sensation of her around me.

_Delighting_.

My heart twisted, my black broken heart, and I pulled out and pounded into her.

Mercy cried out at the sudden sensation, her fingernails digging into my back, adding more marks to the ones she left earlier. I couldn't feel. _She made me feel_. I fucked her mercilessly, chasing away the feeling, fucking it into oblivion. I slammed into her again and again until my name was falling from her lips in ragged cries. Until her pussy convulsed and squeezed my cock. Until my balls tightened and my cum shot deep into her core.

Until I forgot how to be tender.

## Chapter 9

# X

I was a killer.

Simple as that.

I pointed a gun at somebody's head and I pulled the trigger. It didn't go like that all the time, but they always wound up dead one way or another.

Did I feel bad? Was I remorseful?

No.

I'd learnt how to shut that part of myself off a long time ago.

Some people had beautiful talents. Art, music, science. I wasn't beautiful. I was dark and twisted... _unfeeling_. My talent was taking life away. I never got off on it, it was nothing more than a job.

Mercy didn't deserve to be a part of that life. I could never care for her more than physically. I wasn't capable of using my heart anymore. Anyway, I was pretty fucking sure it stopped beating with the first mark I did in.

I was a monster and I'd eat her alive.

Mercy slid her hand over my stomach, murmuring in her sleep. Her tits pressed into my skin and I resisted the urge to palm my own cock.

She was close. Too fucking close. She clung to me like a lover, like an attachment I didn't need.

My balls ached even after fucking her twice more in her bed. I was still coated with her arousal and fuck, she'd been so wet and warm, I'd just slid right in. She smelt like sex and vanilla... My cock began to thicken and I thought about fucking her awake. The look in her eyes when they would fly open as my cock filled her pussy. Good fucking morning.

I couldn't do that. It was impossible.

Why the hell did I think it was a good idea for her to bring me to her _home_? I knew where she lived, I could see her things, not that she had many, which was an indicator of something a little sinister. Weiss said she was looking to get lost and it pretty much confirmed she was hiding from something or someone. Jilted lover? An asshole wife beater?

Screwing my eyes shut, I forced my over analytical brain to shut the fuck up. Mercy wasn't a hit. She wasn't a project. She was just a fuck that had gotten out of hand. A fuck that should never have gotten this far. I should have left her naked in Weiss' office and never looked back, just like the rest of them.

I _slept_ with her.

I lived and worked alone. I did not need Mercy Reid, no matter how amazing her tits were.

Warmth. I felt...warm. Asshole. Monster. Murderer.

Sliding out from underneath her lithe little body, I scooped up my clothes, turning to stare down at her.

Mercy was a bitch. A stunning fucking bitch with a pussy that I could fuck for days, but when she was deep asleep? She was... Hissing, I padded out of her bedroom and started dressing in the lounge.

Attachments. I didn't do them. I wasn't capable.

I wasn't broken. I was made this way.

I was made empty.

Hollow.

I didn't have a soul. I was beyond saving.

My apartment wasn't anything fantastic to look at.

It was empty, save for a bed in the other room, a sofa and a coffee table in the lounge and a refrigerator in the kitchen. The built in robes in the bedroom were another story entirely.

Clothes hung in one of the four doors, the other three had an assortment of racks and hangers full of all kinds of diabolical tools of the trade. Guns, knives, chemicals, ropes and toys that caused the most unbelievable pain with the least amount of effort. It was the closet of a madman.

There were no personal touches, no photographs or keepsakes, no memories. All the memories I needed were locked away deep in my subconscious and they were all faces. The scratched out faces of my victims. Marks sounded better. Less personal.

There was a reason they called me X. When my mark was dead, when the job was done, I took the photo that had been given to me as visual ID, and scratched it out. Scratched it with deep gouges. X marks the spot. I crossed them out.

It was a compulsion, nothing more, nothing less. I needed to do it for closure. It was the ultimate full stop.

Xavier Blood wasn't the name I was born with. I don't even remember what I was before this. If I was good or bad, if I had dreams. All I knew was death and blood and that suited me fine. I was good at it and when you're good at something, you stick with it.

I sat on the sofa, the contents of the envelope spread out before me. It was an unbelievable puzzle and even I couldn't get my head around it. Standing, I took the photograph of Alison Crawford and stuck it to the blank white wall across from me.

Alison Crawford.

The photo hadn't changed from the other day of course, but I stared at it with fresh eyes. My balls had been emptied into Mercy's slick little pussy and now my mind was clear.

Alison Crawford was the only solid lead and she'd disappeared into thin air. A missing persons was out on her, but so far had never been solved. She was either hanging in a tree someplace with a noose around her neck, or wanted to escape the legacy of her dead family and her fuck up of a brother. Probably had taken up a new identity and a new life.

If you knew the right people, it was easy to disappear. There were ways around the system that knew everything about you. Numbers, photos...it was all just locked away in a computer network someplace. If you knew the right kinds of people, numbers could be changed and erased.

My phone began to ring, vibrating across the papers on the coffee table. Glancing at the screen the display read, _Blocked_.

Blocked calls always meant business, no one was dumb enough to call the hitman hotline without using a blocked burner phone. Most people, that was.

Picking up the annoying piece of circuitry I hit the screen, put the phone to my ear and said, "What?"

"You've been slacking off," Sykes drawled. Cocky bastard.

Just my fucking luck, but at least it wasn't Greggor calling to hand me my ass. Weiss chewed me out the other day and no doubt he would've reported my comings and goings at The Gambler's Inn to Greggor. I was a pro, but I still had to answer to higher powers. I was made that way.

"The job will get done," I said.

"It better."

"You will have your kill, Sykes," I hissed. "I work on my terms, not yours or Greggor's. Mine."

"That's the thing, pretty boy," he said. "You have no terms to bargain with. Not on this hit."

Fucking...

"I know you've been burying your dick in that bar bitch, X."

I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening. Of course he knew what I was getting up to. My life wasn't my own, not until I gave Sykes what he wanted. Until then, my every move was being watched, everything I said and did was being reported back to both clubs. Weiss was my best mate, but he knew not to shit where he slept and right now I was taking a big dump in my own bed.

Fucking Mercy was an obsession I had to stop. I'd gotten what I wanted from her, now it was time to get back to business.

"Does she know what you do, X?" Sykes went on. "Does she know you're a killer? Does she get off on it like you do?"

"I don't get hard putting bullets into people's heads, Sykes. Not like you."

"One day," he said, his voice even, "someone will hold you down and cut out your tongue, then sever your cock and shove it up your ass. And you know who that person will be?"

Yeah, it'd be him. The sentiment went both ways. I'd do Sykes' fucking hit and if he took a swipe at me, I'd do all of those things to him.

There was silence down the line as neither of us spoke, the threat plain and clear. There wouldn't be a war between clubs if I was successful, but there'd be a war between Sykes and I regardless.

I'd made an enemy for life.

Well, he better join the fucking queue and take a number.

"The next time I see you," I said evenly, the tone of my voice even chilling my own bones, "it will be when your mark is dead." I hung up the call and pocketed my phone, my blood beginning to thicken with another kind of arousal.

Curling my aching fingers into tight fists, I squeezed, soothing the sinew. I needed the game. I needed the thrill of closing in on my mark. I needed the thrill of planning a murder.

It had been too long since I'd seen the life slip from another human being's eyes.

It was time to forget my cock and feed the beast what it needed to survive.

Blood.

## Chapter 10

# Mercy

When I woke, X was gone.

Couldn't say I was surprised, but I couldn't say I was disappointed, either.

I didn't know shit about X, but the one thing I did know, was the fact that he couldn't seem to express any kind of feeling. Not the feeling that came with fucking, that was an animal instinct. The basic need to reproduce. The feelings I meant were those that came with the basic human genetic mark up.

Happiness, sadness, pain, anger, jealousy...

He knew how to fake it. He was a master at faking.

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if that blank space around his heart was actually a mirror for what was within. His heart beat because it was the way his body worked, but it was broken in other ways.

Shaking my head, I turned as a group of rowdy men pushed into The Gambler's Inn.

I could still feel X. Where he'd grabbed me with his hands, where he'd slapped my ass, where he'd bitten my skin. I could feel where he'd put his finger in my ass. I could feel his cock between my legs.

The men stopped by the bar and I stood to attention. There were five of them, all ugly, mean looking asswipes. So, just the regular clientele then. They all wore leathers, but there was no visible logo on the front of their jackets, but only Royal Blood came here. It was clearly stated on the sign out front.

"What can I get ya?" I said, putting on my bitch face. They didn't usually harass me too much if I was a bitch.

"Well, well, well," the biggest, fattest, ugliest biker I'd ever seen drawled. His beady little piggy eyes settled on my tits.

"I'm up here asshole," I said, pointing at my face. "What do you want to drink?"

"Nice tits on this one," one of the other men said. "They'd fit nicely around my cock." He made a lewd gesture, thrusting his hips back and forth.

"I haven't got time for your bullshit," I snapped, trying not to vomit. "What drinks do you want?"

"Drinks?" the big ugly one said. "I want a half of scotch, in your pussy."

My skin began to prickle. This must be one of those times where I'd have to get the shotgun out from the rack underneath the bar. I hadn't had to use it yet, but I stupidly thought I didn't have to. Weiss hadn't been fucking around after all.

"We only serve in glasses here," I spat.

Ugly leaned over the bar and went to reach for me and I jerked backward. The men laughed at my reaction, getting a kick out of toying with me. My gaze flickered down to the gun and back again. I'd have to go within groping range to get it, so it'd have to be quick. No hesitation.

"Either you order a drink, or you get the fuck out," I snapped. "We don't take kindly to assholes here."

The men fell silent, glancing between each other.

"Did Sykes say we had to be hands off?" one said, rearranging his filthy cock in his pants.

"Rough her up were the orders," the one on the right replied.

"Send a message," Ugly said with a grin.

Sykes? As one of the men angled away, that's when I finally saw the logo on the back of his jacket. A Grim Reaper stared back at me, hollow eyes and death, a scythe held over its head. The banner read, Necromancers Motorcycle Club.

_Necromancers_.

My blood ran cold and I froze. They couldn't know. They couldn't be here for-

Ugly went to circle around behind the bar and I made a grab for the shotgun. My hand wrapped around the barrel and I yanked it free, cocking it right at the fucker's head.

"Get out," I hissed.

"A bitch with a gun," one of the men laughed.

"You think she knows where the trigger is?"

Ugly had edged too close for comfort and I jabbed the barrel into his chest. "Try me, fuck stain. Get the fuck out or get blown to pieces. I don't give a shit which one happens."

Ugly lifted his hand and grabbed the barrel and twisted the gun from my grasp before I could press the trigger.

"Smart mouthed little whore," he spat striking the butt of the shotgun into my stomach.

Pain shot through my body and I doubled over, gasping for breath. I was fucked. Weiss wasn't here. Weiss...

"Look guys, she's bending over to suck cock already."

With a cry, I lunged, punching Ugly right in the balls. He doubled over with a grunt, clutching his filthy cock as the other man scrambled to cross the bar. The outside door banged open and things started to get hazy after that.

The sound of a gunshot in close quarters rang out, making my ears ring. Strong arms clamped around me as I stumbled, but it wasn't the arms I was hoping to fall into. Ugly held me against his fat chest, sticking his cock against my ass.

My gaze settled on the carnage behind me and that's when I realized that the other four men were down. The dead kind of down.

Weiss stood in the middle of the pub, his arm raised, a gun in his hand. He looked pissed as all hell, but I was more surprised to see X standing beside him. X, who didn't seem to care about anything.

"Let her go," he said, his voice all muffled.

My hearing was still fucked up, my stomach aching something fierce. Ugly was going to take me hostage, right? This was how these things worked. They'd come for me and he'd do anything to get me out of here and into the hands of the one person who could never have me.

"No fuckin' way," Ugly drawled. "I'm taking her out of here. You try anything and I'll slit her pretty bitch throat."

Steel pressed against my skin and my gaze snapped to X's. His eyes were vacant. He didn't care.

I guess I was dead then. I wouldn't get my chance to-

X sprang into life, flicking a knife from his palm like a fucking ninja. The blade flew through the air and I gasped, unable to get the scream that had been welling in my throat to pass my lips. It was going to hit me. I was going to die. I wasn't ready. I had to-

There was a dull _thunk_ as the blade imbedded into flesh and bone and I stood, shaking as Ugly's grasp slackened. There was another thud as he fell to the floor behind me, leaving me standing there in shock.

What the fuck just happened?

X-

My gaze flew to X's.

"Are you alright?" Weiss asked coming round the bar.

He circled his arms around me, but I was still in X's trance. His gaze narrowed as Weiss pulled me against his chest.

"C'mon," he murmured. "I'll take you out back."

"Is he dead?" I asked.

"They're all dead."

Blood. Splattered on the walls, congealed. I was back in the house, the cream carpet stained. Splatters on the wall. I was late and I should be dead too. He'd gotten Ugly right between the eyes. Bam.

"Mercy?"

I blinked hard and Weiss came back into focus.

"Give her something strong," I heard X say. "I'll take care of the trash."

Weiss led me into his office and I followed like a lamb to the slaughter. He sat me on the sofa and shucked off his leather jacket, draping it around my shoulders. Reaching above the filing cabinet, he picked up a bottle of brown spirits. Handing me a glass, he screwed off the cap and poured some liquor into it.

"Drink up," he said, gesturing to the booze. "It'll warm you up and calm you down."

Grunting, I raised the glass to my lips, the alcohol quaking in my trembling hands. Sipping, I gasped slightly as it burned a trail right down into my guts. It was scotch. Tasted fancy, too.

"How did he do that?" I asked, the liquor warming me from the inside out.

"Do what?"

"I thought I was...I thought he was going to get me right between the eyes."

Weiss rubbed his chin, going for his cigarettes then putting them back into his pocket, thinking better of it. "X is a lot of things," he said, "but a shit shot isn't one of them."

"Why-"

"They were Necromancers," Weiss said. "Royal Blood and them...well, we've never gotten along."

"You never thought to tell me?" I never knew they had a foot hold in this part of town. If I did, I'd never have come close.

"Sorry, love. Sorry we weren't here."

I shrugged. "No use giving a shit about it now. You've got five dead bodies in your pub."

"Mercy," Weiss said, sitting beside me. "We would've killed them regardless."

I stared at him, not believing what I was hearing. "What? You just kill people you don't like?"

"It's the way we do things," he replied matter-of-factly. "An eye for an eye."

"But they wouldn't of killed me, they said-"

Weiss straightened up, his expression turning serious. "What did they say?"

"They said they'd been sent to rough me up as a message. They mentioned some guy named Sykes." I knew who Sykes was, but everyone did. Sykes was the meanest son of a bitch out there.

"Stay here," Weiss commanded and shoved the door open and disappeared out into the pub.

"Glad to," I drawled, waving the glass of scotch at the closed door.

Shivering, I clutched the glass in my hands like it'd warm the chill from the shock that had settled into my bones. I needed to get a grip.

The door opened abruptly and I jumped. X stepped in and closed the door behind him softly.

"I didn't think you gave a crap," I said.

"Should I have kept my knife in my pocket?" he asked, perching on the edge of the desk.

"They came for me," I said, hugging Weiss' jacket around me.

X just sat there, a nothing look on his face. "They won't bother you again."

"Because they're dead," I exclaimed.

He stared at me like I was a raving lunatic.

"You're not going to say anything?" I asked. "Not after-"

"I don't owe you anything."

I ground my teeth together, trying to keep my smart mouth in check. The only thing he owed me was an explanation, but all I got was a mystery. A bad news kinda mystery.

I reached for the bottle of scotch and unscrewed the cap.

"That's Weiss' secret stash," X said as I downed a mouthful.

"Who gives a fuck?" I downed another, the liquor burning right down my gullet and into my guts. It chased away the images of blood. Dead bodies everywhere. X had to be some kind of...

He shifted from the desk we'd so unashamedly fucked on and sat next to me on the sofa. I wanted to lean against him, to feel his arm around me, but I was smart enough to know I wasn't getting any comfort from X. Not now. Not ever.

"You had to know that by working here, working for Royal Blood, that you'd have to deal with this shit, right?"

"Yeah, I know." I fucking knew, but I was a target. I just worked the fucking bar, I knew shit all about what Royal Blood got up to. That meant they were trying to get to someone through me. It had to be either Weiss or X.

I stared at X. He was the prime suspect because Weiss was a desk jockey. A numbers man.

He shrugged. "Didn't mean it."

"Asshole," I shrieked. "You- I should never of let you stick your finger up my ass."

" _Mercy_."

"Fuck you, X."

"If they touch you again. If they even look at you..." He hesitated, his eyes flashing with something... "I will kill them. You hear me? I will kill them."

Fear started to replace anger and I leaned backward. All I could do was nod, because seriously? X wasn't fucking around. He didn't even seem to care that he'd killed a bunch of Necromancers. He seemed to _enjoy_ it.

Weiss was right. I should stay away from him...but it was far too late for that.

If I could trust X, if he said he would do these things for me, could I ask him to...? No. No, I couldn't. But maybe he could help me. I had to trust him first and trust was hard to come by.

X stood, flicking up the collar on his leather jacket. "I have some things to do," he said, his voice returning to its usual bland monotone. The tone he used when he was being secretive. "Weiss will look after you and make sure you get home."

He went to leave the office, but I called out, "X?"

He turned back, glancing down at me.

"Are you coming back?"

A tiny hint of a smile curled his lips and he nodded. "Soon."

## Chapter 11

# X

I was supposed to say I was sorry. That's what I knew I was meant to do, but I didn't feel sorry...did I?

Remorse. That was a fucking bad thing to feel when you were a contract killer.

Sykes was sending me a message. Stick to the job, no fucking around. By lingering at The Gambler's Inn, by fixating on Mercy, I'd made her a target. Those Necromancer fucks stupidly thought I cared. Mercy was just a fuck.

If I kept telling myself that, then maybe I'd believe it. Mercy was just a fuck.

An image of her underneath me, writhing in pleasure as I fucked her in her bed, splintered into my mind's eye. Delight. What kind of fucked up thing was that?

I stared at my apartment wall, sinking back into the sofa. I had to get back in the game. Killing was what this was about, after all. Killing Alison Crawford. I hadn't even put all the pieces together and I was almost certain it'd been her and so were the Necromancers. What I needed was a lead to her whereabouts and the rest would follow.

Blood. Make her deader than dead. Cross her out.

Freedom from Royal Blood was inching closer. I needed it. I needed my life to be programmed to something else.

The wall was plastered with photos, newspaper articles, drawings and the entire contents of the envelope. It was the wall of a madman plotting murder, crossed with lines and marks, important pieces of information highlighted. Macabre crime scene photos pinned to the plaster.

I had to pay her home town a visit. There was no way I was picking up any trail by sitting here burying myself balls deep in Mercy's pussy.

Seeing her in that Necromancer's ugly fucking arms, a knife pressed to her throat...my blood seared with something I didn't understand. I understood a lot of things, but my ability to feel emotions had been cut from my body and soul a long time ago. They'd been flayed from me...bled dry.

What I'd become and what I was becoming were two different things. It was Mercy Reid's fault. She'd done something to me. She'd-

The phone rang, vibrating across the coffee table. Seeing it was a blocked number, I let it ring for a while before I deigned to lean forward and pick it up. No guesses who was on the other end.

Lifting it to my ear, I stared at the photograph of Alison Crawford as Sykes barked his displeasure at me, not even waiting for me to answer.

"You killed five of my men," he roared.

"And I'd do it again," I said, not even taking my eyes off the photo. "You went back on our terms. A truce between our clubs until this matter is settled. You sent five thugs into our bar, Sykes. Five men on one woman with the order to do whatever they pleased to send a message."

There was a crash in the background.

"Greggor has been notified," I went on. "I'm sure he will have something to say about the incident."

"As long as you play your part, pretty boy, then we won't have any more issues."

"As long as you stay away from the girl, we have a deal."

"I thought you didn't feel anything," Sykes said. "Word has it you're an emotionless bastard. Seems like you care about something."

"Do not presume to know anything about me, Sykes."

"The cold and calculating killer, Xavier Blood, brought to his knees by a _woman_."

"She belongs to Royal Blood," I snarled. "You mess with our women, I don't give a shit who you are, I will deal with you."

Sykes started to laugh. "You're not serious are you? You're trying to put this on Royal Blood?"

I didn't know who his informant was, but they'd seen way too much. I'd been careless.

"When we find your rat Sykes, I'll be glad to put a bullet in their head myself."

"Good luck with that," he drawled.

I tightened my grip around my phone, trying to keep my rage down to a slow simmer. "Do not threaten me, Sykes. You don't want to find out what happens when you cross me." Seemed like I was losing my grip on a lot of things lately.

There was silence on the other end of the line before he cleared his throat. "You've just made a powerful enemy, X."

"Lucky me."

"If you fail, I won't just shoot you. I'll enjoy hearing you scream as I bleed you dry."

The line went dead. Charming.

The Necromancers would be watching Mercy now from dawn till dusk. If I didn't follow through, they'd take her. They'd take her, imprison her in their fucked up world, and beat and rape her to get back at me. But, I didn't care right?

Mercy would be collateral damage if I failed.

I never failed.

Alison Crawford had a rich mummy and daddy and grew up in a small community just outside of the city. She graduated with honors from a well-to-do private school before going on to study Art History at one of the best Universities in the country. She'd just come home from her final exams to visit her parents when she found them and her deadshit of a brother dead in their home.

I pulled the car up into a space on the main street and turned the ignition off. The engine clicked as it cooled and I scanned the shop fronts on either side of the road.

Alison worked her summer and winter breaks at the teahouse a few doors down. One thing that Necromancers were terrible at was staying inconspicuous. You go asking questions in your leathers, or send in the brawn to do the delicate work and everything falls apart. No, they needed to send the pretty boy killer, dress him up in a nice looking suit and send him to talk to the target's friends at her old workplace.

Winter was losing its chill, but snow was still collecting on rooftops and window sills in this part of the country. The sun beat down on the pretty little cottage town, melting the snow away flake by flake. It was quaint, but the mark of the terrible murder that had happened a few streets over still hung in the background like a cold shadow that they couldn't shake.

I'd stopped at a service station to grab a coffee just outside the town limits and even they had been shocked at the news. They still had a memorial photograph of the family on a noticeboard in the cafe. No questions had been required for that sliver of information. The Crawfords had been well known and well liked in these parts, except for the son. He'd trod a dark path long before he left school and became a man.

There was a pub down the way called The Golden Lion, and across from that was a small grocery store that seemed to double as a home and hardware. Beyond was the teahouse called The Golden Mayflower. Small town people stuck together in name and business, it seemed.

The map showed a country club and golf course through the woods and a variety of large houses with acreage. The place stunk of old money.

Money and not much to do always resulted in gossip mongering. It was big business and there was plenty still being flung around about the Crawford's murder. More than one person thought that Alison had gone out into the woods and killed herself. Over her grief, over guilt, over a lot of different things, but nobody had ever found a body. Someone disappeared and people automatically thought the worst.

It may well have been that she'd taken her grief and used it to plan her own murder.

Opening the door, I stepped out of the car and into the sunshine, pushing my sunglasses up my nose. Running over my cover in my head once more I pressed the fob on my keys and pocketed them, strolling towards the teahouse.

Pushing open the door, I took in the quaint little room that smelt like roasted coffee and cake. Little tables were crammed into every available nook and cranny, each one covered in a red and white checkered tablecloth. The place was almost empty, being the end of winter and all. An elderly man sat by himself at a table by the large front window, nestled in a pool of sunshine, a teapot with a cup and saucer in front of him. He looked like a local, so I weaved through the tables and pulled up a chair at the table next to him, which happened to be the only other table coated in warmth from outside.

The old man eyed me curiously, his cup shaking in his hand. That was more from old age than anything else. Sometimes it was hard to disconnect myself from the two settings, on reconnaissance or sitting at The Gambler's Inn in my leathers.

Setting my sunglasses and phone on the table, I glanced over the menu. Tea, more tea, coffee and cake.

"You're police?" the old man asked when I didn't acknowledge him. "They stopped looking for her a long time ago. Such a shame."

"No, I'm not police," I replied. "Private detective."

He looked me up and down with his watery eyes. "You look the part with your fancy car and suit."

Glancing out the window, I frowned.

"I saw you sitting there," he went on. "Watching."

"Oh, shoosh, Eddie," a woman said and waved him off.

Glancing up at the waitress, I saw her name tag read, 'Patrice'.

"Pay him no mind. They say his head was screwed up in Vietnam," she said to me. "Alison was the only one who paid him any attention. That's who he means by 'her'."

"It seems like Alison was well liked around here."

"I knew her from high school," she went on. "She was top in everything. Everyone wanted to be her." She puffed out her chest, sticking her tits into my line of view. Apparently she had to compensate for her shortcomings next to Alison Crawford by being a tart.

No doubt Alison had been voted 'most likely _not_ to attempt murder', but better people had been driven to do dark things before. If they could, so could she.

"Such a terrible thing what happened. Her family all shot dead like that." Patrice shook her head. "What can I get for you?"

"Coffee. Black."

"Is that all?"

"Yes." I shifted my phone and sunglasses on the table and glanced back to the old man.

"Why a private detective?" Eddie asked as Patrice moved off.

Solidifying the lie, I replied, "The police are at a loss, that's why they sent me. Alison's disappearance is considered a cold case now. They wanted to shut it, but I thought it was worth another look."

"Stop with your stories." Patrice, the tarty waitress, hushed Eddie as she put a coffee in front of me.

"They think I'm bloody crazy," Eddie said and she rolled her eyes. "They just don't see what I do."

"And what do you see?" I asked calmly, turning in my chair, effectively dismissing the girl.

"Alison didn't kill herself. I won't have it. There was too much attention on the poor lass. If I were her, I'd try and disappear. Start afresh. No help staying round here with this lot prying into your business. Nosey lot of money hungry codgers around here."

It confirmed my suspicions that she'd tried to disappear after her family was murdered, but where had she gone?

"Where do you think she'd have gone?" I asked.

"I don't know. But she had to have had friends up at that fancy school of hers."

I frowned. I didn't want to have to make another trip, but I doubted she would've turned to her University friends for help. She was intelligent, well liked, a people person. A girl like that would've been known by a lot of people. If she was reported missing and someone had seen her, they would've notified the authorities. The Necromancers would've found her months ago if that was the case.

"I thought I'd seen a ghost," Crazy Eddie said, breaking me out of my thought pattern.

I glanced up at him, suddenly interested. "What do you mean?"

"Alison was blonde. If there's such a thing as doppelgängers, I swear this woman was her. It's sad." He shook his head.

"What did this other woman look like?"

He lifted his cup of coffee and took a sip. "There's light and dark in this world boy. I've seen it all. This woman was the spitting image of Alison, but she was dark. Not just her hair, but her entire presence. I've seen good men go bad in the middle of war, but this was different. She had murder in her eyes."

They sure didn't call him Crazy Eddie for nothing.

"Nothing good can come of that," he went on. "Nothing at all."

## Chapter 12

# Mercy

X had just disappeared.

I wanted to see him, to say...I didn't know what I wanted to say, but I felt the overwhelming need to lay eyes on him.

He'd been gone ever since that night he and Weiss had killed those Necromancer thugs. I could still feel the sensation of the knife as it sailed past my head and the sound it made as it imbedded into Ugly's skull.

Who the fuck was X?

Scratch that.

_What_ the fuck was X?

Whatever shit he was in, his interest in me had made me a pawn in their stupid turf war. They'd be watching me now. Watching and waiting for X to screw up so they could take me.

I escaped the clutches of a murderer only to fall into the arms of a monster.

Fidgeting behind the bar of The Gambler's Inn, I had to do something. I needed answers, because this fear that was creeping up my spine like an unwanted houseguest was getting on my nerves. I came here to get lost, to collect myself, to bloody well regroup for the next assault, not to be made a target. I didn't come all this way to be found out.

I rounded the bar and strode toward the office. I was itching and I needed answers to scratch it with. Weiss would know, he was the numbers man, the go to guy for information. He would know. I went to shove the door open, but the memory of the gunshot that ripped the air apart the other night seemed to echo in my memory. He shot a man in cold blood. Bam. Right between the eyes.

Thinking better of it, I hesitated, the door staying ajar. Weiss' voice filtered through the gap and I paused when I heard him mention X. It was like a moth to a flame, so I peered inside.

He was on the phone, his back turned toward the door, so he hadn't noticed the door slipping open.

"X is on tenterhooks with Sykes," Weiss said, pausing to listen to whoever was on the other end of the line. "He knows that. This is his out, I don't think he'd do anything to screw it up. He wants it too much."

He stubbed out his cigarette and rubbed his eyes with his free hand. "He's never failed Greggor and I don't expect him to now. He was trained too well."

Trained? I bit my lip, wondering what the hell Weiss meant. Trained for _what_?

"I've got an eye on him," he went on, then another pause as Greggor, whoever that was, answered. "I've got my eye on her as well. She's got a mouth on her, but she can be trusted."

Closing the door softly, I went back out to the bar. That had to be me they were talking about. There were eyes on me from all camps, but Royal Blood trusted me. _Weiss_ trusted me and I could use that to my advantage.

My blood ran even colder with the thought of X working with the Necromancers. What was so important that a Motorcycle Club war would be put on hold for them to trust X with some unknown job? I had to find out without raising suspicion. Whatever it was, I was dragged into it the moment they sent the dogs in to rough me up. X had involved me in a lot more than some disagreement between criminals. He'd involved me emotionally the moment he fucked me over Weiss' desk and solidified it when he made me take him to my place.

All this was X's fault.

Turning around, I strode across the bar and shoved into the office.

Weiss glanced up, the phone gone from his hand. "What's got your knickers in a twist?" he asked.

"What's going on?" I asked. "What-"

Weiss held up a hand to stop me. "Don't go asking questions, Mercy."

"Why not? Those ugly fuckers came in here and harassed me. They would've touched me up or worse if you hadn't killed them. Shit," I hissed shaking my head. "You and X killed five men and you don't seem to give a shit."

"Don't go getting involved in shit you don't understand," Weiss said. "You'd do best to stay out of it Mercy, or more of the same is coming your way. Next time, we mightn't be there."

"I don't appreciate being dragged into your fucking turf war or whatever shit this is," I exclaimed. "I just work the bar."

"I know." He ran a hand over his face. "I know you're looking to get lost, but I don't know if this is the right place to do it anymore."

_What the fuck_? "You're firing me?"

"No, I'm not firing you," he said. "Just be careful. You'll be okay as long as me or X are around."

"Where is X?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"He's out on club business. Mercy..." Weiss stood, circling around the desk. "I don't know what's going on between you two, but X? He doesn't do the old lady thing." I cocked my head to the side. "The wife, the girlfriend, the lady," he went on. "He can't."

I was beyond trying to hide my attraction to the monster anymore, so I just went with it. "Why not?"

"It's not my business. You'd do best to listen, Mercy. Fuck knows I've given you enough warnings."

"I'm just trying to understand," I said.

"That's the thing," Weiss said. "With X, you can't. That fucker is a mystery, even to me."

I stared at Weiss, wondering the same thing about him. I didn't quite believe his words, and by the look on his face, neither did he. Weiss knew something.

Something big.

And I was determined to find out what.

A few days went by. A few days of nothing.

After such a violent situation playing out at The Gambler's Inn, it sure was bloody quiet. Weiss came and went as per his usual routine. I did my shifts, the regulars all did their rotations at the bar and nothing untoward happened. At all. It was so bloody quiet all I could do was think about X.

X pressing me up against the wall over there and dry humping me into submission. X dragging me by the hair into Weiss' office. X pounding his cock into me from behind. X's finger in my ass. Bloody hell.

I woke up each morning in a cold sweat, images of blood and death plaguing my dreams. They get them every time. Bam. Right between the eyes. Sometimes it was a faceless man. Sometimes I just found bodies everywhere. Sometimes it was X with the gun. I woke with images of death that bled through to my waking life.

I was thankful that The Gambler's Inn was quiet on a week night. People went to other pubs that played football games on flat screen tellies or had a livelier atmosphere. Only the punters looking for a quiet hole to water themselves in came here. Most of the time I was on my own and that's the way I preferred it.

It was a Tuesday night, so the place was as dead as a doornail. A few old Royal Blood bikers were in one corner, weathered men who had snow white beards and beer guts. Three younger men were engrossed in a game of pool, their attention on who was winning. A pile of money that had been bet on the game was sitting on one edge. Cigarette smoke swirled in the air, the clean air laws given the middle finger. Weiss never enforced them, being a heavy chain smoker himself. It'd screw with his nicotine addiction.

Everyone had just seemed to have forgotten that a few nights ago, five Necromancers were killed right where I was standing. How could people be so... _flippant_ with human life, no matter how scummy the victim was?

That was the pot calling the kettle black, wasn't it?

That's when I felt his gaze on me. My entire body was zapping with some kind of fucked up electrical current, so it couldn't be anyone else.

Turning, I laid eyes on X, who had appeared out of nowhere and was sitting on a stool at the bar. His elbows were leaning against the mahogany, his head lowered but his gaze firmly on me. He looked strung out but he also looked like something else...a predator.

Squeezing my thighs together I asked, "Want a drink?"

There was no way in hell I was staying away from him now. We had the connection most people only ever dreamed of, let alone found. Maybe X didn't realize it yet, but something kept bringing him back to me. Whatever it was, I was more than happy to go along with it.

It was dangerous for both of us if we wanted to go on living, but more than that...it seemed forbidden and that made it all the more thrilling.

" _Corona_ ," X murmured, but I'd already opened the fridge and was popping off the cap.

It hadn't taken long to plant the seed in my heart, did it? I was a magnet for trouble, even when I wasn't trying. The moment X turned up and kissed me, it was too late. The moment he fucked me, I was a goner. It didn't matter what or who X was now. I was addicted.

I put the bottle in front of him and leaned back against the bench behind me. He took a long swill of beer, before sinking into his earlier posture. He slid a twenty on the bar, but I didn't move to take it.

"Hard day?" I asked.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Do I look that shit?" I drawled, some of my spark coming back.

He stared at me for a moment. "You look tired."

"So do you."

He snorted and downed another mouthful of beer. X never talked and it was beginning to piss me off. Normal people talked, but he was far from normal. That was a point I'd caught onto early, then it was solidified when he threw a knife at my head like a fucking ninja.

Glancing up, I noticed the three men at the pool table had left, leaving the table of old Royal Blood bikers at the rear. They were talking in hushed tones, glancing over at us every now and then.

"They'll leave in the next five minutes," X said, not even turning around.

"How do you know?" I retorted.

"Experience."

"Do people dislike you that much?" I asked, trying to prod for information.

His lips curled as he regarded me. He was totally onto me. Shit on it.

"No, I think it's more to do with fear," I went on. "They're afraid of you."

"What makes you say that?"

I pushed off the bench and leaned against the bar, closing in on his personal space. The air crackled with more than attraction, it was alive with the thrill of the chase.

"I see the way people look at you." I watched him lift the bottle of beer to his lips and drink, my heart picking up speed. "The mysterious tough guy who does secret business for Royal Blood. No one knows your name, or where you're from. They just know you're a mean son of a bitch."

"And what do you think?" he asked, his fingers tightening around the glass bottle.

"I know enough that I should stay the fuck away from you."

X stared me down, the air humming. It took all I had not to fling myself across the bar and beg him to take me again, but I held his gaze, daring him to give me something. Anything.

"You're a smart woman Mercy," he said after a moment. "But there's a problem with that."

My pussy squirmed and my nipples began to ache against the tight fabric of my T-shirt. "Oh?"

X stood, squaring his broad shoulders. I had no idea where this was going, but one thing I knew was that he was right. The old guys at the back had left while we were eye fucking each other. X was perceptive, he saw more than any normal person would. What the hell did he do for Royal Blood? I still couldn't place it.

"Close up," he commanded.

"But there's still two hours until closing," I protested. "Weiss-"

"Fuck Weiss," X snapped.

My impulse control was shot, so I did as he commanded, shutting down the till and dumping the money into the safe in Weiss' office, while he waited at the bar. I grabbed my jacket and keys from the back and switched off the lights. Before I could take a step toward the door, X had appeared beside me, grabbing me around the waist.

"What is it about darkness and you?" he murmured to himself. He'd let his mask slip a little and I leaned into him. Darkness seemed to fit the aura he exuded. Darkness and something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

His grasp tightened as I turned to face him. "What do you want from me, X?"

"I want your body Mercy," he murmured, lowering his lips toward my ear. "I want to bury my cock in you. I want to hear you moan. I want to hear your screams."

I shivered in his grasp. He said all the right things. X was a master manipulator and right now, he could've said anything and I would've stripped for him on the spot.

"Here?" I sighed as his lips fluttered against my skin, bringing me alive.

"No," he said. "Not here."

"Then where?" His place? Did I even want to see where the monster slept? What he had hidden in his closet?

"Your place."

He let me go, breaking all contact and I felt cold. Shivering, I led the way across the pub, closing the door behind us. Outside, the street was empty, a lone motorbike in the no standing zone. I wondered if that was a metaphor, but I was too aroused to think clearly. With the promise of another marathon fuck session once we got to my place, all sense and sensibility had fled the building.

I locked up the pub while X stood by his bike, watching my every move. When I was done, he threw a leg over the midsection and I slid on behind him, fitting my body against his back. All those warnings, all those glaring omens from the universe, and still I fell willingly into the clutches of a monster. Not just into his clutches, into his _bed_. I craved it like I craved no man before him. I wanted X, monster or not.

He kicked the bike into life and I relished the rumble of the engine through my body as I wound my arms around his waist. He drove through the city like a madman, splitting lanes and running lights, weaving through traffic and if it had been anyone else, I would've chewed them out for such reckless behavior, but I felt safe with X.

Ironic really, since he seemed to be working with the Necromancers on some top secret project. That was a line too close for comfort.

Once we arrived at my apartment block, X parked his bike in the lot outside and followed me into the foyer. The security entrance had been broken long before I'd moved into the dump, the only safe place in the entire building was now behind the locked door of my shoebox apartment on the third floor. He moved silently as we ascended, the cold stairwell that was poorly lit with broken fluorescent lights. It was cheap for a reason and none of them were good.

I swear the guy next door was a drug dealer and the lady down the way was either a crack whore or ran a meth lab in her kitchen. Either scenario was just as bad.

Unlocking my apartment, I stepped into the darkness. I didn't make a move to switch on the light, remembering the last time we were here together. The whole night was seared into my brain, complete with the rabid desk fucking back at The Gambler's Inn.

X closed the door behind him, the deadbolt clicking home. I turned to watch him, waiting to see what he would do. Would he be rough like the first time he kissed me, or would it be like the way he fucked me in my bed. Slow and tender?

Still, I wasn't prepared when he sprang to life, his eyes flashing with a need I couldn't fathom.

X grabbed me around the waist and pushed me roughly against the wall, pinning my body with his. His lips collided with mine and he pushed his tongue into my mouth greedily, kissing me with a desperation that was unsettling. His control was slipping and whatever that meant for me, I didn't know. One thing was for certain, I was going to wake up tomorrow utterly and completely fucked, counting the bruises his touch left behind.

His hands tore at my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders. It landed on the floor with a dull thud and then my T-shirt was dragged over my head, tearing our lips apart. Shoving at his leather jacket, the one that marked him as a dangerous son of a bitch, he dropped his arms away and let it fall.

I grasped greedily at his belt, working the leather free from the buckle and fumbling with the button on his jeans. I needed his skin against mine...I _needed_ it. I felt like I'd drown without him. He'd anchor me in this crazy darkness. In this crazy motherfucking world that threatened to consume me with blood and murder...X would either save me or destroy me, but I was beyond caring which it would be.

Lifting me up, he carried me to the bedroom, his teeth and lips scarring my skin, branding me with his mark. He dumped me onto the bed and undid the button on my jeans and tugged them off, making short work of my knickers. He kneeled on the floor, spreading my legs wide and dragged me across the mattress to meet him. With one swift movement he leaned down and licked my pussy, biting down hard on my clit.

"Fuck," I gasped, my back arching off the mattress.

As suddenly as he'd attacked my pussy with his mouth, he moved upward, sucking and biting a path to my breasts. Unclasping my bra, he flung it over his shoulder and latched onto my right breast, inflicting pleasure and pain with his mouth on my nipple before moving to the other. I rubbed my crotch against his stomach, latching my legs around his waist, unable to control my reaction.

X pushed himself to his feet and as with the first time he'd fucked me, he flipped me over onto my stomach. Curling his fingers into my hair and shoved my face into the mattress, his other hand clamped down on my hip, forcing me up onto my knees. My backside was in the air again and I found myself hoping he'd fondle my ass as well as my pussy. I drew in ragged breaths as I felt him position himself between my legs, his feet still on the floor.

His hand left my hair and he palmed my ass cheeks, hissing through his teeth. Rubbing his hot and hard cock between my folds, a hand came around and began fondling my clit. I felt my arousal spark and I began rolling my hips, increasing the friction against his cock. I was so hungry for him to take me, to feed me with his desire, that I turned my head so I could stare up at him.

X always found a way for me not to look at him while he fucked me, like it was a connection he didn't need or want. Looking up at him now, I understood. His mask was gone and his true self seemed to be surfacing. As if he sensed my gaze on him, his eyes flew open and he snarled. Covering my body with his he grabbed my hair again and forced my gaze away, breaking the connection I wanted so badly from him.

Was he really incapable? Or was it something else?

Without warning, X thrust hard, burying his cock deep into my pussy. I cried out, shockwaves of pleasure and pain jackknifing through all my nerve endings. My body's reaction was to pull away, but strong hands held me firm. I wiggled my ass against X's pelvis, rubbing his balls and driving him deeper still and he moaned loudly.

I felt his body tremble against the back of my thighs as he held steady, reigning in whatever dark desire was brewing in his black heart.

"Let it go," I gasped, my death wish erupting from my lips before I knew it was coming. I'd lost it, totally and completely. I was at X's mercy.

He pulled out slowly, the emptiness that he left behind aching more than when he was filling it to unbearable levels.

Abruptly, he drove into me again and the force pushed a cry from my lungs. He struck so deep it was painful, but what a fucked up beautiful pain it was. He pulled out again and this time, he didn't stop. He bent to my desires and let go.

We came together again and again, sweat beading over our bodies, the air filling with the heady scent of sex. It only drove me further into madness as I reared back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust in sticky slaps that mingled with our desperate moans.

This trumped the fuck on Weiss' desk tenfold. It trumped every sexual experience I'd ever had. X erased everything and everyone that came before and I was glad. I was glad the monster had claimed me.

I was so fucked up.

X continued his onslaught until I could hardly keep myself upright. He reached around and pinched my clit, the only gesture he'd ever made to spike my pleasure during our fucking, but he hadn't needed to before. I fisted my hands into the sheets, the pillow muffling my cries as my body succumbed to sensory overload. My reaction only seemed to spur X on and he came, spilling into me with a deep grunt. He slapped my ass hard, the crack splitting the air and searing my skin.

Finally, he pulled out and shoved me down onto the bed, but I was too out of it to care or bite back. I lay there on my side, totally exposed and I didn't give a fuck. The mattress dipped as he collapsed next to me, our chests heaving in tandem. His scent...X smelt so male, it was overwhelming like a fucking aphrodisiac. _Asshole_.

"X?" I whispered.

He slid his hand over my waist, pulling me onto my back and caught my mouth with his. So, he didn't want to talk then. Not even a little.

His tongue twined with mine, tasting, exploring, becoming more urgent as his cock sprang to life again. Rubbing against my thigh, he moaned softly into my mouth, his hand finding my clit and pressing deeper through my folds.

I rolled my hips upward, forcing his fingers further into me and his palm against my clit, and began fucking myself against him. X tore his lips from mine and transferred his weight on top of my body, my legs spreading to let him settle right where I wanted him. His cock slid through my folds and across my clit as he increased the friction between us, his arms settling on the pillow either side of my head.

I was torn apart, but my body craved more, like a magnet for pain. I wrapped my legs around his waist, anchoring him to me, urging him to pull me back onto him and fill me with his cock, to take me to the edge and into the abyss again.

It was the same as last time. A violent fuck, followed by a tenderness that seemed almost foreign to him. When I woke in the morning, he'd be gone. I already knew how this was ending, but he was still here for now, on top of my body, taking pleasure from it and his cock was hard for me.

He kept coming back to The Gambler's Inn for _me_.

With a groan, he pressed the head of his cock against my opening and drew back. My lips parted against his jaw, my skin rasping against the stubble he'd forgotten to shave for a few days. His mouth sought mine and he licked into me desperately as he filled my pussy with his length. As he slid home, I moaned into his mouth, digging my fingernails into his ass cheeks and raking them upward to his back.

He tore his lips from mine and lowered his face into the crook of my neck as he drew his cock back and plunged in again. He fucked me in long, deliberate strokes, slapping into my clit with just the right amount of pressure to send sparks through my entire body.

Shivering in his grasp, sweat began to prickle on our skin as he took solace in my body, fucking away whatever demon needed to be appeased in his soul. I was fine with that. I was more than fine, he soothed my own fears with his cock. The monster himself chased away the demons lurking underneath my bed.

He never spoke, he never raised his gaze to mine, and for all I knew I could've been just a faceless woman to him. No, that wasn't true. He could have anyone he desired, but he was with me. It was my pussy he fucked, my mouth he filled with his cock. _Mine_.

X increased his pace, pounding harder into me as his orgasm neared. I felt my own welling to the surface, just hovering underneath, begging to be set free. It felt so fucking good, but his steady pace was only holding it at bay, it was doing nothing to pulse it through my body.

I moaned desperately, thrusting my hips up to meet his, coaxing him to fuck harder. I pleaded with my body and he listened.

X sunk his teeth into the crook of my neck and began thrusting hard and my orgasm exploded through me. I came so hard, stars began to prickle through my vision as I arched my back off the mattress, jamming my chest against his. My pussy squeezed his cock, milking him as he kept pounding and then his release was spurting hot and hard inside me.

We'd fucked in some of the most intense ways physically, but this time something had shifted between us. After all this time running and hiding and severing every connection between the human race and my new life, it was X who I chose. I chose the monster.

I'd barely came back down to earth, when X pulled out, rolling off me. His breath came in heaving gasps and he threw an arm over his eyes, blocking out the world.

"X?" I whispered through a ragged breath.

He grunted, lowering his arm across the pillow. An invitation for me to shift closer. I slid against him, tangling my legs with his, my whole body humming. He drew in a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh, closing his eyes.

Last time, I'd fallen asleep before him and woken after he'd gone. This time, his guard had slipped even further and he'd fallen asleep first. Something was troubling him, but I didn't even know if it was something I could help with. He wouldn't tell me in the first place.

X awake was a whole can of worms that I wasn't sure how to take, but X asleep? He had a boyish ruggedness about him and a vulnerability that had never seemed to have surfaced before. His cool, controlled exterior had melted away and something of the man underneath seemed to seep out, whoever that man was.

X turned his head toward mine, whimpering slightly in his sleep, his arm tightening around me. Stiffening slightly in his grasp, I peered at him, waiting for his eyes to fly open and catch me trying to crack his code...but he didn't wake, he just went on dreaming whatever fucked up scenario was playing out in his head.

Recklessly I traced a finger over his tattoo, wondering the meaning, wondering why he had a space of nothing where his heart should be. I stilled as my finger ran over raised lines all over his ribs. The tattoo hid them so well that I hadn't noticed, but his whole side seemed to be covered in scars. Some were long, some were short, some were tiny round lesions and some were raised more than others. What the hell?

X was a closed book ninety-nine point nine percent of the time and ironically, I seemed to get more from him asleep than awake. He was the ultimate puzzle. A puzzle I desperately wanted to solve.

Sighing, I nestled into his side, relishing the one sliver of quiet time with him before morning. Because who the fuck knew if I'd ever get it again.

## Chapter 13

# X

Something was wrong with me.

Mercy Reid. Mercy Reid and her fucking pussy. That's what was wrong with me.

I stared at the pieces of the puzzle plastered to my apartment wall and rubbed my cock through my jeans. I'd left her sleeping in her bed hours ago, sleeping like an innocent little lamb unknowingly waiting to go to the slaughter. I kept going back and she kept letting me. Stupid little girl.

I could still feel her on my cock, even after the hour long shower scrubbing my skin raw.

Was it a new compulsion rising to the surface? I didn't know. I didn't know shit about why I had to do things. I just did them and everything was right.

I forced my thoughts onto the ghost that the imagination of Crazy Eddie, from the teahouse, had conjured. I didn't know if I believed in doppelgängers and evil shadow selves, but I did believe that people had the potential to do dark things, no matter how good they believed themselves to be.

If Alison Crawford had changed her appearance, then the photo stuck to my wall of the virginal looking University graduate meant shit. Getting out a black marker, I leaned against the wall and colored in her hair. Black, like the darkness Crazy Eddie had said she'd turned to.

Dropping the marker I pressed my forehead against the papers stuck to the wall.

I needed to kill. I needed to feel blood run through my fingers. I needed the pain and suffering. My soul was black and I needed to feed it with death. I needed to erase Mercy Reid from my mind and body by completing the contract and crossing out a face. I needed to fulfill my compulsion and everything would be right in my twisted world again.

Snatching the photo, I shoved it into my pocket and slid on my heavy black coat, leaving the Royal Blood leather on my sofa. I didn't need anything tying me back to the Club when I went out asking questions. This had to go down low key, under the radar.

I was close, I could feel it. Freedom was just out of reach, waiting for me to stride forward and take it. I just had to find where Alison Crawford was hiding.

I knew how to persuade people and if she was in the city...I'd find her. It was only a matter of time.

I was coming for her and I wouldn't stop until I had what I wanted.

I'd been to almost every dive and seedy establishment in the west side of the city before I strayed close to familiar territory. The east was crawling with Necromancer assholes, and I doubted Alison Crawford was stupid enough to seek refuge there.

I stood on a dark street outside a club, a few blocks over from The Gambler's Inn. Staring up at the sign over the door, I curled my lips in displeasure. The Satricorn was the epitome of sleaze. It was more than a strip club, it operated several of Royal Blood's shady dealings and served as a place to send the men Greggor was looking to bring into the fold for a little bit of fun. A free fuck or a free suck. Their words.

People on the street called it Fancy's and not because it was a fancy fuck hole. Fancy's was a completely ironic name for a dirty as fuck operation.

The bouncer coughed loudly and I strode forward, pushing inside. Thumping dance music blared through the entire place, already rubbing me the wrong way. A woman in nothing but a pair of black shiny high heels danced around a pole, flashing her bits to the group of men seated around the stage.

The thought of indulging made my cock shrivel up. Cheap. Nasty. The whole place stunk of stale liquor and something a little more disgusting. Male ejaculation.

Leaning over the bar, I gestured to the woman serving. She was this big breasted, bleached blonde, Barbie doll. Fit right in.

"What can I get you?" she yelled over the music.

"I need to speak with your boss," I replied.

"That'd be Sammy," she said, raking her gaze up and down my body. Obviously liking what she saw, she leaned forward, squeezing her tits together with her arms.

"Now, if you don't mind," I said blandly.

She huffed, pissed that I'd disregarded her so bluntly, and disappeared out back. Surveying the club, I spotted several CCTV cameras across the roof. One over the bar where I waited, two angled at the area in front of the stage, another over the exit and one over the bathrooms. They looked cheap, the vision, if they caught any, would be grainy at best in this darkness.

I straightened as I caught sight of a man walking towards me, the blonde bitch from behind the bar following in his wake. His hair was slicked back, his shirt was some offensive kind of red silk and his suit jacket was ill fitting. He looked the fucking part all right. He must be this Sammy fucker. I now understood with perfect clarity why people called the guy Fancy Freddy behind his back.

"You looking for the boss?" he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the music.

"You're him?" I replied, looking the guy up and down again.

"Yeah, that's me. You're that Royal Blood guy," he said, waving a hand at me. When I raised my eyebrow at him, he said, "Yeah, we've heard about you."

"I'm sure you have," I drawled, not paying any attention to the mostly naked women hovering around the edges of my vision. Sex was one thing I never had to pay for and I didn't intend on starting any time soon.

"You know, some of you bikers are our best customers," Sammy went on. "I'd be glad to give you a freebie." He clicked his fingers and the closest woman slinked to his side, eyeing me with delight.

I eyed her with distaste. I didn't share and I especially didn't share bodily fluids with a hundred other men that had been through her in the last week.

"Not. Interested," I said.

The woman pouted, sticking her tits out even further. She obviously liked being treated as an object, the stupid little girl.

"I'm looking for someone," I said to the sleazebag, getting to the point. Holding out the photograph to him, I raised an eyebrow.

Sammy plucked it from my fingers and peered at the altered photograph of Alison Crawford. "She's a pretty one."

"Have you seen her before?"

"Not sure. There was a woman here a few weeks ago looking for a job. Similar hair, same eyes. Could be her. She was a lot thinner, though. Bitch wasted my time."

I cocked my head to the side. "Wasted your time? How?"

"Went through the interview, served a couple of drinks, then just walked out. Never did come back." He handed the picture back to me and wrapped an arm around the woman, who was pouting at me with come fuck me eyes. "She would've been a good money maker. Her tits were amazing. And her ass. Fuck me."

I raised an eyebrow. Could be Alison, or it could just be some woman with a similar look about her. Either way, it was the only lead I had since flashing her picture in all the dives on both sides of the river. Any lead was a good lead when I had a Necromancer scythe hanging over my head.

"She did leave her application here," Sammy said, knowing who paid to keep his club running and trouble free. That was a greedy son of a bitch right there.

"Do you still have it?"

He nodded back over his shoulder. "In the office." Pushing the woman away, he led me across the club and into a hallway. Storerooms and offices. He opened a door at the far end and I followed, leaving it ajar behind me. A row of windows overlooked the street outside, a cream venetian blind that hadn't been cleaned in years, covering the glass.

Sammy cracked open the filing cabinet and slipped out a piece of paper. "Here you go," he said. "She didn't fill it out properly, the stupid bitch, but that's all I've got."

"What'd she do?" he asked as I took the form from him.

Scanning the application, I snorted. She hadn't even filled it out correctly, there was information missing all over the place, but there was a partial address and that's all I needed.

"None of your business," I snapped, shoving the paper into my pocket.

Sammy held up his hands in mock defense. "Hey, just helping out."

"I'll be sure to mention it to the men who matter," I said, holding back the urge to roll my eyes. Men like this, they did themselves no favors exploiting women, laundering cash, dealing drugs. It was petty, but it was those kinds of seedy businesses that kept Royal Blood flush with cash. That and the contracts I carried out for them.

"CCTV?" I asked, glancing at the computer on the desk.

"Can't remember the day she came in." He sat at the desk, clicking the mouse and bringing the computer to life. "I can-"

I held up a hand. "Don't bother."

"You sure? I can get a message to you."

"The form is enough."

I didn't have time for that shit. It had already been six months since the attempted hit on Sykes, and time was slipping away. Alison could be living in the city under all our noses, or she could be long gone. My money was on her being in the city, close to her target. Her entire family had been brutally murdered and that had to cut deep. If I were her, I'd regroup and plan a second attempt in greater detail. A foolproof plan to get what I wanted.

Without another word, I spun on my heel and left the office, weaving through the dark club, avoiding the stripper from before. There was something I needed to sate and it wasn't my cock. If anyone was going near it, it would be Mercy.

Shoving out into the night, I pulled up the address from the job application on my phone and made a note of the surrounding streets and buildings.

It was time to go hunting.

## Chapter 14

# Mercy

X had disappeared again.

Like it was my business to know his comings and goings. I was acting like a needy girlfriend, but there was a problem with that. X wasn't mine, even if I had silently pledged myself to him. He didn't want me like that. If he did, he'd just take me. He'd taken nothing but my body.

Still, I was desperate to know what his business with the Necromancers was. Weiss knew, but he wasn't telling, which meant I had to take matters into my own hands. If I started asking more questions than I already had, then he'd become suspicious. He trusted me, which in turn meant that the whole of Royal Blood did too.

Weiss thought I was obsessing over X and it had to stay that way. It wasn't exactly a lie, it was just holding out on the entire truth. He knew I wanted to get lost, he just didn't know why. They'd just assumed I was running from an abusive husband and I never made any move to correct them.

I worked the bar at The Gambler's Inn all afternoon and night, waiting for my chance. On Wednesdays Weiss left early and left me on my own to lock up, which meant it had been a week since I'd seen X.

The thought of him sent shivers down my spine. The cold and calculating biker who fell asleep in my bed. The man who was the ultimate puzzle. Scarred inside _and_ out.

"I'm out, Mercy," Weiss said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Right," I replied, picking up a cloth to start wiping down the bar.

"You can close early if you want to." He nodded at the empty pub. "No fuckers are here, so you may as well."

"You're giving me an hour off?" I cocked my head to the side.

He laughed at my reaction. "I'll still pay you for it."

"Fucking good."

Waving, he strode across the pub and shoved out the door. A moment later, I was on my own. Rounding the bar, I double checked the toilets and locked the outside door.

I busied myself with clean up, just to make sure Weiss wasn't coming back. Forty minutes later, I was finished, ready to leave and still alone, so I made my move. It was now or never. I had a bad feeling and it was here to stay until I put my fears to rest.

Slipping into Weiss' office, I glanced at the desk with a hollow stare, my ass smarting from the memory of X slapping me. My pussy was ruling my brain and I was getting sloppy.

Opening the desk drawers, I found nothing but cigarettes, old lighters, old papers and pens. Weiss was a fucking slob. He reeked like an ashtray and from the state of his desk, I didn't want to know what his house looked like. I didn't even want to think about it.

Instead of wasting time searching through the mess, I crossed over to the filing cabinet. I didn't know if I'd find anything incriminating in there, not unless he'd forgotten to remove something, but it was worth a shot. Weiss could be a lazy asshole but there was nothing about the place that had warranted a police raid lately, so I might just get lucky.

I flipped through the first drawer, but it was all paperwork for the pub. Invoices, licenses and inbox outbox kind of stuff. Cracking open the second drawer, I laid my hands on a large, thick, orange envelope. Slipping it half out of the filing cabinet drawer, I checked for any clue as to what was inside. Along the top was written the word 'copy' in black marker, but it was the name that caught my attention.

Xavier Blood. His name was Xavier Blood. Had to be.

Peering inside the envelope, I saw that there were three files crammed full of papers. Was this the job he was working on for the Necromancers? The super secret job that Weiss kept warning me away from and the job that had brought those five bikers into the pub looking to get back at X? The one that had five dead bodies staining the carpet red out front?

I pulled out the files from the envelope, my hands shaking. I wondered what answers I'd find or if there'd be any at all. I was a smart woman, a few clues and I could piece the rest together from what I already knew. I was like a fucked up Nancy Drew, solving mysteries I had no place knowing the mechanics of.

I was looking to get lost and this was not getting lost. Not if I got caught.

A photograph fluttered to the floor, slipping from the first file and landing face down on the carpet. Picking it up, I flipped it over.

My blood ran cold.

I dropped the photograph, my fingers going numb. It was me. It was a photograph of _me_. Blonde hair, full cheeks, a healthier version of the woman I used to be. With trembling hands, I flipped open the file and almost vomited. A brutal crime scene photograph stared up at me, my father's lifeless gaze captured on film. Blood. Thick, sticky, congealed...splattered on the walls, pooled on the floor. Staining the plush carpet with death.

Bam. Right between the eyes.

The sheet of paper stapled on the cover of the folder had the words, 'Suspected Target' printed at the top. Below was a profile, a very detailed profile of Alison Crawford. Of me.

I doubled over, hugging the folder to my stomach, trying to keep the bile that had risen in the back of my throat from erupting over Weiss' coffee table. There was only one explanation for this. One and one only.

X was a hitman.

X was looking for me.

X was going to kill me.

No, this couldn't be right. The first time I let myself feel any connection since that night and I chose X. I chose him for a reason. His darkness was mine. I was his. I didn't understand any of it.

He couldn't find out.

What was I meant to do? How could I play the master at his own game and win? I had already been living it without knowing, I just had to take the final step.

Alison Crawford was dead. I had to become Mercy Reid. Totally, irrevocably, completely.

My chance for revenge would come. It would just be played out in a different way. To get the thing I wanted most, I had to give up my soul.

If X could do it, so could I.

Keep the master close and beat him at his own game.

This time I wouldn't choke. If I did, the man who I was falling for would put a bullet in my head and not even feel remorseful.

Holy fucked up romance.

## Chapter 15

# X

The air was heavy with fog as I lurked in the darkness, watching...waiting.

It was quiet, the sounds of far off traffic muffled in the thick night air. It was close to being over. Everything hummed with the promise of freedom.

I traced the butt of my gun with the pad of my thumb, loosening it from where I'd shoved it down the back of my jeans. I knew this building. I'd been here twice before, so I knew the route already.

It was Mercy's apartment building.

I recognized it from my hasty entrances and exits, but I never saw the number on her door. Mercy wasn't a killer. She wasn't fucking stupid.

I'd let her get to me, worm her way into my heart and make it start fucking beating again and this is what I got in return. I was slipping. I should know what number her apartment was, where it was located in the building, the color of the fucking carpet and if her kitchen had tiled or linoleum floors. I should know every single detail of her apartment, but I didn't. I didn't know shit.

Mercy Reid had ruined me and she didn't even know it.

I shoved my hand into my coat pocket and held onto the photograph of Alison Crawford. I had to get her confession and cross her face off. She was the only one who could've attempted that hit.

She was the only one who fit the profile.

I'd get her to confess. Women were the easiest to draw information from, despite being able to withstand pain the longest. This wouldn't take long, then I was out. I'd deliver the goods and then I would disappear.

Xavier Blood would become a ghost.

If Mercy was looking to get lost, could I take her with me? If she knew the kind of man I was, how dark I was inside, she'd want nothing to do with me. I was good for one thing and one thing only. Killing. A monster couldn't love. I couldn't feel anything, so why even try.

Moving through the shadows, I crossed the street, keeping my head low. Pushing into the foyer and climbing the stairs, I kept my hands free, dangling at my sides, ready to draw if there was trouble. Ready to strike if the target tried to run.

I had two options. Kill her in her home or, if she put up a fight, tranquilize her and do the deed elsewhere. It didn't matter which, I'd still have my fun.

Striding down the empty hall, past other doors and other homes, I stopped outside number thirty four. This would be over very soon and my blood ran thicker with the knowledge that the monster within would soon be sated.

Twisting the knob, I found the door was unlocked. Stupid woman.

Stepping into the dark apartment, I smelt vanilla and spice. Images of Mercy slammed into my brain and I shook my head, cramming all memories of her away into the dark place inside my mind. I'd see her soon.

Sounds of rushed movement came from the other room as I closed the door softly behind me. Drawers were opening and closing, clothes rustling. The sound of a zipper. She was going to run, but it was too late.

Moving silently through the lounge and into the bedroom, a woman was shoving clothes haphazardly into a duffle bag. Her long, lean body was hunched over the bed, her long black hair falling in soft waves down her back.

I wouldn't need the tranquilizer. I could just shoot the bitch and be done with it.

Pressing the barrel into the back of her head, the woman tensed.

"Turn around," I snarled. "Do it fucking slowly. I'm going to look into your eyes as the bullet passes through your head. That's the best bit, don't you know?"

The woman began to pivot on her heel slowly, her hands rising. As the barrel of the gun tracked its way across her skull, a feeling of dread began to settle in my gut. When her blue eyes met mine, my arm went slack and the gun fell away.

I'd been played. The master had been _played_.

"Mercy?"

## Part II

# Blood Ties

_In the end you only regret the chances you didn't take._

## Chapter 16

# X

I grabbed Mercy around the neck and slammed her into the wall, her pretty head cracking against the plaster.

"Start talking," I spat, trailing the barrel of my gun along her cheek.

"X," she managed to choke out around my fingers.

Mercy was my target. Mercy was the one who'd attempted to kill Sykes. Mercy had to die. I had to take her photo, scratch her out and deliver it to...

"Please," she whispered. "Let me explain."

"I know everything about you Alison Crawford. There's no explaining anything." _She played you, X. She played the master. She made a fool out of you_.

Mercy squirmed in my grasp, tears welling in her eyes. She had no stomach for violence. Not the dark kind - the kind that took you to the edge and pushed you into the abyss. The kind of violence that turned a human being into a killer. That was why she couldn't pull the trigger on Sykes. She wasn't a murderer. That was my job.

I pressed the barrel of the gun underneath her chin, pushing it into the soft spot just above her throat. Tears streamed down her face, dripping onto her chest. Crying. The women always cried. Her lips quivered as her eyes silently pleaded with me.

I could just pull the trigger and _bam_. Her face would be gone.

Sick son of a bitch.

"X," she choked out. "Help me."

I cocked my head to the side.

"He took everything from me," she went on. "He killed my entire family."

"You want help from me?" I scoffed. "If they'd have asked, I would've killed them too."

Mercy let out a strangled sob. "I know something is in there, X. I've seen it. I've seen it when I'm with you. When you fuck me. When you're inside me. I've seen it." Her gaze met mine defiantly, despite the fear that shook her entire body. "Help me. Help me end Sykes."

It might've been desperation, or it might've been something else, but she leaned forward and pressed her lips against mine. My cock stirred as the tip of her tongue caressed my bottom lip, but it wasn't the only thing. Darkness. She was darkness.

I jerked backward, breaking contact and clutching my head, the gun feeling heavy in my hand.

"X..."

Snapping to attention, I pulled the tranquilizer out of my jacket pocket and shoved Mercy against the wall again. Her lips parted in a gasp as the air was pushed from her lungs and I struck. The needle pierced her skin and she cried out, batting her hands against my chest.

As the drug took hold, her movements became clumsy, her eyes glazing over.

"No," she slurred, trying to push me away. "No, you can't...X..."

As her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her body crumpled, I caught her in my arms, lowering her to the floor.

What are you doing X? She won't feel anything now. End her. She's your ticket to freedom.

_Kill her_.

I straddled her comatose body as she lay on the floor, placing the gun on the bed. She really was a beautiful woman. A beautiful, venomous, _snake_. She'd lost a great deal of weight, her slimness bordering on unhealthy, but that was most likely due to the stress of her family's murder, her attempted hit on Sykes and the subsequent months of trying to lay low.

Black hair suited her better than her natural blonde. She was beautiful in her darkness.

Leaning over, I curled my fingers around her pretty, pale neck and began to squeeze. She wouldn't feel a thing. This was as gentle as I would allow myself to be with a mark. She was getting off easy.

Her body jerked underneath me, an animalistic reflex warning her of danger. A warning that would go unheeded. I crushed my thumbs into her throat and felt the life slipping from her, feeding the monster inside me. Leaning closer into her, I pressed my lips against hers as they started turning a dull shade of blue.

Vanilla. She smelt like vanilla perfume. Flowers. Beauty.

My cock began to harden, pressing painfully against my jeans and my entire body tensed. Letting her go, I sat up sharply, hissing through my teeth.

I never got off on killing. Never. There was one thing that I knew how to do and that was separating one need from another. Killing never came into my sexual world and vice versa. Blood never made my cock hard.

Mercy Reid. Mercy _fucking_ Reid.

Shoving the gun into the back of my jeans, I hauled her limp body up and into my arms, unsure of what I was doing or where I was going.

I never hesitated and I never failed.

Not until today. Until I wanted to fuck her as the life bled from her eyes.

Sick son of a bitch.

## Chapter 17

# Mercy

Alison Crawford was a lot of things.

Alison Crawford was the image of perfection.

Alison Crawford was dead.

I was glad to go away to University. I was glad to get away from my overbearing parents and fucked up brother, Anthony. The stupid asshole that kept dragging our family's name through the mud by getting caught up with criminals and thugs. He liked to play games, but with the name Crawford behind him, it made him a target and far from someone to be feared.

Then there was me. I did what I was told and I followed orders like a good little girl. I let my parents mold me into a perfect image of themselves and their legacy. That was until my brother got to me and convinced me that forging my own path was the way to go. They controlled me too much, he said. I was nothing but a shell. Putty in their hands to be used and abused. What did _I want_?

I wanted to be an artist. I wanted beauty, life... _color_.

I loved my parents and they loved me, but they never really saw the person I was underneath. The person who I wanted to be. They just wanted the best for their only daughter and all that overbearing stuff? It was just the way _they_ were brought up. A kind of conditioning that was passed through the generations.

I loved my parents, but I wasn't going to be like them.

Winter break was meant to be my first time home since leaving for University four years ago. I'd graduated a week before, but had somehow won a scholarship to do my Master's Degree in Fine Arts. I was going back to study, because going home to tell your well-to-do parents that you had no job lined up after your expensive stint at one of the country's best Universities, would go down real well.

I sat on a train, the darkening countryside flashing past the windows. I was so lost in my own thoughts that I jumped when my phone buzzed in my coat pocket. Glancing at the screen I saw it was a text from my mother. _5pm. Don't be late_. The train would get into the station at four thirty and it was a ten-minute taxi ride from there to home. I wouldn't be late.

There was a cough across the aisle and I glanced up, catching the eye of the young man who sat there. He threw a newspaper onto the seat next to him and smiled at me, his blue eyes the first thing I noticed. Well, apart from the fact that he was pretty hot.

I was looking for a way to piss of my parents and at twenty-three, I should probably be past that kind of juvenile behavior, but a little fun never hurt anyone.

The man smiled at me, his lip curling. He was interested. Good.

He stood, straightening his coat and crossed the aisle to sit next to me.

"What's your name?" he asked with a grin.

"Alison," I replied, shifting in my seat so my knee pressed against his. "And you are?"

"Damien." He raked his gaze over my body and smiled, obviously liking what he saw.

"Where are you getting off?" I asked.

He laughed, his thoughts obviously going to a dirty place. "The next stop."

"I was hoping you would say _in me_."

His brow furrowed for a split second before he licked his lips. "That sounds even better."

An announcement blared over the speaker calling the next stop and I raised my eyebrows. Standing, Damien held out his hand and I grasped it in my own. He helped me to my feet as the train swayed and I stumbled against his chest. Arms circled my waist to steady me and I laughed. He was a head taller than me and had a firm chest and strong hands. I wondered if he had a cock to match.

I picked up my bag from the seat opposite as the train pulled into the station. We stepped out onto the dark platform together as other passengers disembarked, passing us in their haste to get home. Winter was well underway and would be a tough one this year. Winter sucked the marrow out of life, what with getting dark at four in the afternoon.

"My car is parked across there." He pointed to a suave looking sedan in the corner of the car park.

Nodding, I let him lead me across the asphalt. Okay, so maybe I was being a little stupid letting a stranger lead me to his car in the dark. He could take me anywhere and do anything to me, but since I'd struck out on my own, I've lived life a little more on the edge than any sane person would care for.

Pushing me gently against the car, Damien pressed his body into mine, forcing my legs apart with his knee. I dropped my bag and fisted my hands into his jacket, pushing through layers of clothing until I found skin. Lips crashed into mine as he swiped his tongue into my mouth, kissing me with as much flair as a wet fish. This was not at all promising, but I was kind of aroused and it would be better than finding a quiet place to finger myself to kill time.

"Get in the car," I said, shoving him off me. "Fuck me in the back seat."

"You sure? I don't live far."

"I'm sure."

The indicators flashed as he unlocked the car, popping the back door open and sliding in. Immediately, he began unzipping his trousers and pulling out his cock. Getting in beside him, I closed the door and slipped my hand around his dick, palming him to full erection. He groaned, rolling his hips upward.

Curling his hand into my hair, he pulled me in for another kiss, and then tried to force my lips onto his cock.

"I want it in my pussy," I said. "Maybe I'll suck you later. Maybe I'll suck you when I can taste my cum on you. How does that sound?"

"Fine by me," he growled.

Shoving me across the middle console, he ripped my jeans and knickers down to my knees, my bare ass sticking up in the air.

"You've got a pretty ass, Alison," he murmured.

"It would look better with your cock in it," I replied, moving back to rub against his erection.

I waited as he rolled on a condom, fisting his balls in his hands. As he positioned the head of his dick against my pussy I smiled in satisfaction as he slid inside me, wondering how my mother was coping with me being late. Having a meltdown probably. Fucking good.

Damien's balls smacked against my thighs as he thrust home, burying himself balls deep. He pulled out to the tip, ramming in again and finally I was getting somewhere.

"Yeah, that's it," I purred, feeding his ego. "Fuck me there."

He began fucking me hard, his skin slapping against mine, stroking my clit with one hand, while the other clamped down on my hip. The car filled with the musky scent of sex, the windows beginning to fog.

I reared back into him, meeting him thrust for thrust and my orgasm slammed into me hard and fast. Not half bad for a guy who kissed like a wet fish.

There was a grunt as he came, filling the condom with his orgasm, his hands caressing my ass cheeks.

"So, can I get your number so we can do this again?" he asked, pulling out. Shit, the guy didn't miss a beat lining up his next cheap fuck.

Falling back onto the seat and yanking my knickers and jeans back on I smiled up at him. Not bloody likely.

"Nice fuck," I said, opening the car door and getting out. I spied a waiting taxi by the entrance to the station like it was a getaway car waiting to whisk me away from the scene of the crime. "But no thanks."

I slammed the car door closed, leaving the guy with his trousers around his ankles and a condom still firmly on his mediocre cock. Nice fuck, but it didn't blow my mind. Hell, I'd already forgotten his name.

I opened the back door of the taxi, throwing my bag in before me. I gave the driver the address, ignoring his raised eyebrow. Crawford was a name well known in these parts. Money bred gossip and all.

Fifteen minutes later, I stepped out of the taxi and slipped the guy a twenty, telling him to keep the change. Staring up at the house, which was an old country manor that had been renovated just after my parents got married, I saw that all the lights were on. I was an hour late, but that was neither here nor there.

My footsteps crunched on the gravel drive as I made my way to the front door, readying myself for the barrage of abuse that would spill from my mother's lips. Was that any way to treat your daughter who you hadn't seen for four years? Was that any way to conduct a reunion?

Stepping up onto the landing, I instantly noticed that the front door was ajar, which was strange. Not thinking much of it, I shoved the door open and my heart stopped. My fingers went numb as my bag slipped from my grasp, falling to the floor with a thud.

Anthony was slumped against the wall, a hole in his head. A smear of red trailed down the paintwork behind him, while his lifeless eyes stared across the hall into the lounge. In front of him was my mother lying face down in a pool of her own blood.

Sticky, congealed, rancid _blood_.

Stepping forward, my entire body beginning to chill, I saw my father dead on the lounge room floor, a hole in his head too.

They'd been shot. Bam. Right between the eyes.

The air smelt like copper and smoke. Blood and gore. Death and destruction.

I wanted color in my life...I wanted beauty.

And all I got was a beautiful corpse.

Later the police told me that if I'd been any earlier, then I'd be dead too.

A selfish fuck had saved my life.

_Whore_.

## Chapter 18

# Mercy

I felt like I was drowning.

Darkness clung to my mind as I struggled to the surface, trying to drag me down. It would be so much easier to just give in.

It was the best sleep I'd ever had in my life and knowing it was unnatural, knowing it was X who jabbed me with something, made it all the worse.

Why was I waking up? Why wasn't I dead?

That was the stupidest question I'd ever thought in my life. I was still alive so he could do horrible things to me. I fell for the monster and now I was caught in his lair. He knew the truth and who knew what was coming to devour me.

I'd tried to be dark. I'd tried to be like him, like Sykes. He killed my entire family in cold blood and he had to pay. I wasn't on good terms with my parents, and fuck...I hadn't seen them in four years, but to come home to a welcome stained red... My family might've been a lot of things, but they didn't deserve to die like that.

I wanted to put a bullet into Sykes head and see how he liked it. Bam. Right between the eyes.

The door opened, swinging inwards and colliding with the wall with a bang. I jerked on the bed, the drug haze wearing off even more. My arms met resistance so I pulled harder, making something bite into my skin. Rope... My arms were over my head, tied to the bedposts and I kicked, only to find my legs were bound as well. I was completely naked and spread-eagled. I was at his mercy.

X stood in the darkness of the hall, watching me struggle, watching my naked body writhe in panic as I realized what he'd done and how hopeless my situation was.

The room was lit in a soft orange glow from a lamp on the bedside table, the scent of leather and male sweat heavy on the air. It smelt like X and I suddenly realized where I was being held. He'd taken me home. This was his apartment. It had to be.

Stepping into the light, X stared down at me, his gaze traveling over my breasts and down to my most private parts, which were exposed in front of him. His expression was completely passive and not knowing what was going through his mind absolutely terrified me. Somehow I knew that this wasn't the X that had fucked me over Weiss' desk. It wasn't the X that had shown that rare sliver of tenderness in my bed. It wasn't the X that had let himself fall asleep next to me.

This was X the hitman. X the monster.

He was shirtless; all he wore was a pair of jeans and a manic glint in his eyes. My heart thumped painfully in my chest and I jerked against my restraints again.

"X," I gasped. "Please..."

At the sound of my voice, he sprang to life and rounded the end of the bed, stalking like a predator. I was his prey, stuck in his web. I knew it was going to hurt. My natural reflexes began to kick in and I pulled desperately at the rope, like I'd suddenly developed some kind of superhuman power and break free.

He shoved his jeans off, revealing his erection and I shivered, not understanding what was happening. Was he going to fuck me to death? Was this normal for him? Was this how he operated?

He straddled me, pinning my hips underneath him and his cock pressed hot and hard into my stomach. He drew in deep breaths as he watched the fear begin to take over my senses, overwhelming reason. I bucked underneath him, trying to break free, but it only seemed to excite him even more.

"That's it," he murmured. "Struggle, Mercy. Fight me."

He leaned over, grasping my wrists, covering my body with his.

"Do you want to die?" he asked, trailing his lips across my cheek.

"No," I moaned, my body fighting against my better judgment. I was aroused. I was fucking aroused like a sick fuck.

"Why not? You were so willing to break into another man's house and point a gun at his head."

"I wanted revenge."

"You didn't have the stomach for it, Alison."

I jerked against him, but he just tightened his grip, thrusting his cock against my clit.

"Don't call me that," I moaned. Fuck, I was aching. My wrist and ankles burned, my throat felt raw, but most of all, I ached right between the legs. The kind of ache that could only be sated with sex. Sated by X fucking it out of me with his cock.

"Why not?" he asked, his voice calm and empty. "It's your name."

"Alison is _dead_ ," I spat defiantly.

"Dead?"

I glared up at X, trying to dispel the fear inside me. "D.E.A.D. _Dead_."

He stared down at me, his lips mere inches from mine, and regarded my expression. There was a tense silence as I awaited my fate, teetering on the edge of something dangerous. How was he going to do it? How long would he draw it out before he ended me?

"Why did you do it?" he asked.

"Do what?"

" _Choke_."

Choke? He must mean the moment I stood above the man who'd murdered my entire family and couldn't pull the trigger. That was my ultimate failure and having X know it was like pouring salt into an open wound. He knew I was weak and that was something he could manipulate. I _hated_ that he knew.

I stared up at him defiantly, pursing my lips. I'd _never_ tell.

"Do you fancy yourself to be a killer, Alison?"

I bucked underneath him, the rope burning into my wrists. " _Don't call me that!_ "

"You couldn't pull the trigger."

"My name is Mercy!"

"Do you want to be like me... _Mercy_?" He ran his lips along my jaw before licking at the shell of my ear. "Do you want to know what it's like to have blood running through your fingers? Do you want to know what it takes?"

Despite myself, a sob escaped my lips and X began to laugh.

"You have to give up your soul, Mercy," he murmured, his breath hot against my face. "You have to give up _everything that makes you good._ Can you do that?"

"I don't believe you," I choked out. "I've seen-"

X jerked away. "You've seen _nothing_ ," he roared.

He curled his fingers around my throat and dug his thumbs into my trachea, cutting my air supply in half. I drew in ragged breaths, desperately trying to stay afloat.

"You have some beautiful bruises on your neck," he rasped, staring blankly into my eyes. "I tried this once before. Let's see how you like it awake."

Understanding slammed into me like a ton of bricks. He'd tried to strangle me to death while I was out cold. He'd tried...but something had stopped him.

I felt his cock press against my clit and put two and two together. This was getting him off. If I was going to get out of this, I had to fight fire with fire.

We'd had a connection while we fucked. I'd felt it every single time he'd touched me with his cock. I'd felt it every single time he'd come inside me. His mask had slipped and it was time to take it off completely and see the man underneath.

I had to break him before he broke me.

## Chapter 19

# X

Why was I stalling?

I never played with my victims.

My victims were never quite as alluring as Mercy Reid. My grasp around her neck slackened and she gasped desperately for air. Did I want to save her? Stupid fucking cunt.

"You can't feel," she said. "I knew it."

"You know _nothing_ ," I snarled, circling my hands around her pretty little neck again, setting my thumbs against the bruise I'd put there the night before. It would be black tomorrow. Black like the place my soul was supposed to be.

"What did they do to you, X?" she whispered hoarsely.

"They made me into a monster," I replied. I was broken. I'd snapped the moment I tried to strangle her to death on the floor of her apartment. I was coming apart.

My cock twitched and I realized I was doing it again. Getting cheap thrills out of torturing her. A new line to cross, a new compulsion, a new satisfaction. Evolution. My grip slackened.

"What's made can be undone," she wheezed.

"It's too late."

Reaching down between our bodies, I slipped a finger between her legs, my cock stiffening as I felt how aroused she was despite her predicament.

"You want it." Fuck, I was so hard I needed to come and it needed to happen soon.

"Of course I want it," she gasped. "I just don't want to die before I get my revenge."

Remembering the other day when those Necromancers had tried it on with her, I suddenly understood her reaction. I'd thought it'd been fear at being harmed, and it was to a degree, but it was much more than that. She'd thought she'd been found out. She'd thought they were there to take her to Sykes for retribution.

"Did you know who you were working for?" I snarled, digging my fingers into her pussy.

She cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, thrusting her tits up into my chest.

" _Answer me_."

"No," she cried, her voice wavering. "I didn't know."

"Did you know they were looking for you?"

She stared up at me, defiance etched on her pretty features. "You know everything," she said, tears falling from her eyes. "What are you getting out of this? A hard on?"

Tearing my gaze from hers, I leaned down and bit her nipple, my teeth sinking into her skin. I bit into her flesh until I could taste blood as her pale skin broke under the pressure. She cried out in pain from someplace far away, but I was too busy tasting a new pleasure I hadn't discovered before.

Sexual satisfaction through pain. _Punishment_.

I'd always separated the two, kept work far away from pleasure, but there was something about this woman that broke all the barriers I'd been conditioned to adhere to. She was awakening the monster. Not X, the hitman, he was bad enough. No, she was awakening X, the _devil_.

Licking her broken skin, my cock throbbed against her thigh. Fuck, my balls were so tight, I just wanted to pound into her and mark her with more than my teeth. I wanted to tear her skin open so I could see what was underneath.

"X," she cried out beneath me, struggling against the ropes that held her in place.

Ignoring her pleas, I pulled away, surveying my handiwork. I trailed my fingertips over the bite mark, smearing droplets of blood that had sprung to the surface. It was mesmerizing. I was more depraved than I ever realized.

"X," she said again. "This isn't you. This is what they made you into."

My gaze snapped up to meet hers. How did she know? How could she know?

"What did you say?" I barked, rage simmering to the surface.

Her eyes widened, giving away the fact that she'd said it in desperation. She didn't know shit, but now she knew more than anyone had ever known outside of Weiss and Greggor. _They'd made me this way_.

I pulled away, separating our bodies and she tensed, her gaze glued to mine. What could I do to punish her...what was she doing to me... I was unraveling and being put back together and it wasn't into a pretty picture.

Kneeling, I grasped her hips and pulled her pussy up against my groin. Her wrists strained against the ropes and she gasped, the only indicator that it was hurting. She was strong, defiant, and all it did was piss me off even more. I wanted her pain and she would give it to me. I would _take it_.

I positioned the head of my cock against her opening and thrust hard, burying myself into her warmth. She was so close to death, so close to me taking her life and handing her picture over to Sykes, but she was still aroused. Her body was still aching for mine and I wondered who was more fucked up. Her, for wanting her killer-to-be to fuck her...or me, the sick asshole who wanted to taste her blood.

Mercy cried out at the sudden spike of pleasure as my cock drove home, her eyes squeezed shut and lips parted. I reached over her body and trailed my fingers over her mouth, pressing my forefinger into the wet warmth. She clamped down and sucked, digging her teeth into my skin with as much force as she could.

Pain splintered through my nerve endings and I moaned, flexing into her pussy. Did she mean to hurt me? It didn't anger me in the slightest. The pain only made my balls strain even harder. I grabbed her face with my other hand, forcing her mouth open and covered her body with mine. I plunged my tongue into her mouth, holding her jaw tight as her tongue came to meet mine, entwining...dancing... _fucking_.

Her hips rolled against my groin and she squeezed her pussy around my cock, taunting. I knew her game. She was trying to break me using the one thing that I had been struggling with for weeks.

Mercy fucking Reid knew more than she let on.

Mercy fucking Reid was well on her way to becoming a master manipulator with her perfect fucking cunt.

Tearing my lips from hers, I pulled my cock out right to the tip and slammed into her with all the force I could muster. She gasped, pulling violently against the ropes that bound her to the bed, her face contorted in a mixture of every emotion in-between pain and pleasure. Emotions I'd become a master at faking. I didn't know what they were anymore; they'd been bled from me until I was numb.

I needed release and escape from this thing she'd planted underneath my skin. I needed to fuck it away.

I pounded my cock into her again and again, grunting as I felt my orgasm swell in my balls. I fucked her harder than I'd ever remembered fucking anyone. I slid in and out of her greedy little pussy as she writhed underneath me, pulling against her restraints, fighting and taking pleasure all at the same time. She moaned, trying to latch her lips onto my skin, but I held her head to the side, denying her the connection she was desperately trying to get from me.

I knew her game. She wasn't going to win.

I came suddenly, my pleasure pouring into her and I kept pounding. She cried out, my name on her lips in a primal wail as she came on my cock. Fuck, her scent, her sounds, the way she screamed my name...the name _they_ gave me... Something snapped. Something broke inside me with a violent snap that splintered through my mind and body.

The last of my cum left my cock and I stilled, sweat beading over my skin, chest heaving. Mercy's eyes cracked open, her exhausted expression speaking to something deep inside me, something I'd forgotten. Her gaze found mine and held...and for a sickening moment, I forgot who I was.

Jerking back, I pulled out of her and climbed off the bed, desperate to get away.

"X," she sighed.

I fisted my hands into my hair, part of me wanting to go back to her, the other wanting to open the closet and take out the most depraved tool of my trade and use it on the woman who was destroying me.

I stumbled back, colliding with the doorframe as Mercy stared up at me, her eyes wild with the afterglow of hard fucking and something close to fear.

"Come back to me," she murmured.

Pain, love, loss, rage...emotions so strong they threatened to overwhelm everything I ever knew. I smacked my fists against my head, pacing back and forth, the sickly scent of Mercy's perfume sticking to my skin. How could I shut it off? It was too much...too much...

Roaring as pain sliced through my heart, I punched the wall, another sensation searing through my flesh and bones. Blood welled to the surface, oozing through broken skin.

I didn't want to feel.

It was tearing me apart, ripping my mind to shreds.

"Turn it off," I roared to nobody and everybody.

"Come back to me," Mercy said again, this time her voice was louder, more confident.

Come back to her? I was never hers to begin with. She was a _mark_.

Striding across the room, I launched myself onto her with a single intent.

This was her fault. She broke me. She had to go.

She had to fucking _die_.

## Chapter 20

# Mercy

X's hand shot up and grasped my jaw, forcing my gaze to fix on his. He looked manic, like he was riding life right on the edge. Was I afraid of him? Not nearly as much as I should be.

"Are you afraid of me?" he asked, voicing my thoughts. "Don't lie to me, Mercy. I can see your true feelings in your eyes."

Trying to wrench my face away, I said, "I'm beginning to be."

"Good girl."

X was having a breakdown. His control was totally shot to hell. One wrong move and I'd be deader than dead.

"Are you ready to die?" he whispered into my ear. "I have to deliver your head to Sykes." He squeezed harder, stars beginning to prickle my vision. "I can kill you now, show you mercy, or I can saw your head clean off while you scream. How would you like it?"

I drew in ragged breaths through my constricted throat. "I'd much rather leave it to later."

His head cocked to the side, his grip around my neck slackening. Sucking in a deep breath, I flexed against his body. I'd taken him off guard. Maybe he thought I'd cry and beg to be freed.

"I have to kill someone first," I went on.

"Then whom will I deliver your head to?"

"You can show me how," I said, ignoring his question. "We can do it together. I know you want to."

He narrowed his eyes and for the first time, I could see something there. His mask had slipped off and the things he was conditioned to forget were coming to the surface. That was it, wasn't it? They'd made him into an unfeeling monster for their own gain. They'd forced him to be their on-call killer. I couldn't think of any other explanation for all the things that had happened since he found out my secret.

The more that I thought about it, other things began to stand out, other clues that gave away his fate. His secretiveness, the times where he'd smiled and it had never reached his eyes, the times where he'd fucked me from behind...he didn't want a connection. His camaraderie with Weiss was another mystery... Weiss must be his handler, which meant he was more to Royal Blood than a mere numbers man. Weiss was deeper in the game than I ever realized.

X's pupils began to dilate as some unknown notion flashed through his mind. Was he picturing us together, completing hits, completing orders given to us from the higher ups?

"You and me," I murmured as his grip slackened from around my neck. "We can do it together. Imagine..."

He was unstable, teetering on the edge of snapping and there was no way of telling which way he'd fall. I had to convince him to untie me. Then I could think about trying to win him over to my cause.

I should've been trying to think of a way to escape and disappear, but my need for X was overwhelming. I'd fallen for him long before I knew what he was. I wasn't twisted like he was, but I was twisted in other ways. We could be twisted together. He kept coming back to me, he showed me things that he had tried to keep hidden. He was a victim in this just as much as I was. He'd admitted they'd done something to him.

"That sounds good, doesn't it?" I asked, prodding him. "We both want the same thing, X. We can take our lives back. You and me. _Together_."

I was manipulating a broken man, but I was telling the complete and utter truth. I wanted revenge and who better to help me with that, than X?

He stared down at me, stroking his fingers along my tender neck, caressing the bruises he put onto my skin.

"Untie me," I whispered.

"Why would I do that?" he replied, wetting his lips.

"If you untie me, I can fuck you with my mouth." _Dirty trick, Mercy_.

"Why would I let your pretty lips near my cock? So you can bite?"

I let my head sink back against the pillows, jutting my breasts toward him. "Because sucking your cock makes me feel _alive_."

"If I untie you, you'll run. I can't have you running, Mercy. How would that look?"

"I won't run," I murmured. "I can't."

He stared at me, his expression unchanging.

"I don't want to." Because I didn't.

His gaze left mine and came to rest on my lips and I could see it plainly on his face. He wanted it. _Take it, take it, take it_... _Let me give it to you_.

He shifted his weight from over my body and his feet hit the floor. Turning away, I watched his back as he walked over to the closet. In the half-light, I could see the pattern of scars across his back and side, highlighted through his tattoo. Sick sons of bitches. What had they done to his body to break him?

X opened the closet and for a brief moment I swore I caught sight of something that I wish I could instantly take back. Leather, metal and something that looked like a medieval torture device. X slammed the closet door shut and my gaze flickered down to his hand. Never mind the fact that he was still naked, his impressive body on show, my heart thumped with fear just the same.

He was dangerous before, but now he was something else entirely. He could go either way into madness and whatever he held in his hand could either spell my freedom or death. It was that simple.

"X," I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "What-"

His thumb pressed on the object in his hand and a blade flicked from the end. Six inches of steel coming right for me.

Whatever words I was going to use to plead for my life, died in my throat and the same fear that had threatened to overwhelm me the night I'd tried to kill Sykes surged again, but this time it was different. This time there was no escape route. There was no plan if things went south.

X grabbed my wrist and I tried to jerk away, but there was nowhere to go. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the metal to cut into the fragile skin of my forearm, but nothing came. There was a sawing sound and the tension slackened from the rope. _He'd cut me free_. I sucked in lungfuls of air, my entire body prickling with relief. He leaned over and cut my other arm free, his expression completely closed off.

As he padded around the bed and stood at the end, cutting the rope that bound my ankles, I wondered if this was all a part of his game. Lull his victim into a false sense of security, then when I least expected it...

His gaze met mine and there was a dull thud as his grip slackened on the knife and it fell to the floor.

I couldn't let fear rule me anymore. X was my ticket to Sykes, but it was more than that. He was my ticket to a better life, a completely screwed up life, but a better one. We were meant to do this together.

Pulling myself into a seated position, my muscles screamed at me, the pain from X's touch almost bringing me to tears. If this was what he needed to come back, to heal, then I would do it again and again. I stared up at him and leaned forward, crawling across the bed. I wasn't lying when I said I wanted to suck him, I intended to deliver and drive this bargain home. I had to show him what he didn't believe. That something else lived inside him other than the darkness he held onto.

Sliding my legs over the edge of the bed, I sat before him, his cock beginning to harden under my gaze. Tentatively, I reached up and trailed my fingertips along the length of him. When my thumb circled his tip, spreading his pre-come, he let out a sharp hiss, making my gaze snap up to his. He was staring down at me, watching my every move like a hawk stalking a mouse it was about to devour. Waiting for it to make a mistake so he could strike.

I grasped his cock in my hand and began stroking him to full erection, remembering the night at my apartment when he'd forced himself into my mouth. I hadn't minded one bit and it was degrading in a way, to be force-fed something that I wasn't really into, but the moment X's cock had slid across my tongue? I knew that there was only going to be one cock I was ever letting near my mouth again.

Staring up at X, I guided his length into my mouth, lavishing attention to his crown with my tongue. I tasted myself on his skin and I took him deeper, gagging as his tip hit the back of my throat. Sucking as I pulled back over his length, I licked his crown, glancing up to see his expression. He was staring down at me, his lips parted. He'd watched me as I fucked him with my mouth before, but this time was different. He didn't force me to take him, he just let his hands hang at his sides as I did all the work. He gave me _control_.

That was the only thing I needed from him to let me know that he wasn't going to kill me. He was going to spare my life...for now.

I fisted a hand around the base of his cock and the other grasped his balls, massaging. He thickened even more in my mouth as I sucked, showing him what he did to me. When his breathing picked up and his chest heaved, he rolled his hips forward, stroking himself against my tongue. He was with me; I had him right where I wanted him to be. _With me_.

I deep throated him again and held, squeezing his balls in my hand and he moaned loudly, fisting his hands into my hair. When I pulled back, I dragged my teeth along his skin, milking his cock as hard as I could.

X came to life, pumping as I sucked him to orgasm. I took every single drop as he exploded into my mouth, I took it all and swallowed, soothing his hot skin with my tongue.

When he was done, he collapsed next to me on the bed, his gaze fixed on mine. He was exhausted. Utterly beaten. What the fuck had they done to him?

"I won't run," I whispered, lying next to him.

His eyelids drooped. "I'm lost."

"I know," I replied, reaching out with a shaking hand. "I'm going to find you."

My wrists were rubbed raw and I ached all over, but it was worth it. X was coming back to me.

He sighed. "They were meant to let me go..."

"And they will."

I thought we lived with the same darkness, but it turned out I wasn't like X at all. X had been broken, his humanity taken. I gave mine away.

It was time to take it back for both of us.

I didn't know what was going to happen, or when X would snap again, but I was determined to get my revenge. It wasn't just mine I wanted anymore. They'd broken X and now Royal Blood had to pay as well. My hit list was growing and I finally had the guts to go through with it, because now? Now, I had something to look forward to.

But first I had to fight for X's soul. I had to bring him back.

That bright shining future I wanted so badly? It was nothing but darkness without X.

## Chapter 21

# X

_We can take our lives back._

Mercy had opened something inside me that I'd thought was lost. She was also Alison Crawford, the woman I was meant to kill, but she was Mercy Reid to me.

She was a new kind of monster.

She'd fallen asleep, the toll of the pain and pleasure I'd inflicted upon her body overcoming her desire to stay awake. I no longer had the desire to kill her. At least, not right at that moment. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, but I had to do something. Greggor and Sykes were expecting results and Weiss...he was smart enough to see right through me if I couldn't hold myself together. I couldn't snap again like I had last night.

I'd stood in the shower, washing her from my skin, washing her scent and touch down the drain, washing myself until I was as raw as I felt on the inside, but she was still there. She'd stained me from the inside out.

Standing over her, I eased her bruised body into one of my T-shirts, my gaze lingering on the black marks around her neck. Beautiful pain... Tearing myself away, I bound her hands to the bedpost, this time tying her hands together, instead of apart. She said she didn't want to run, that she couldn't...but I didn't believe her. I still saw fear in her eyes as she spoke her promise to me. Was it fear of death, revenge, pain...fear of me? I didn't know, but until it was gone, I would restrain her for her own good.

Her eyelids began to flutter as I sat next to her. I'd taken her right to the edge of death so many times and I'd fucked her so hard... She was exhausted.

I caressed her face as she stirred, running a thumb over her full lips, remembering the feeling of them wrapped around my cock. People pleaded with me to spare their lives all the time. They got on their knees and cried, bargained, offered me money, and nothing had ever swayed me to even contemplate sparing them from their fate. Nothing had ever broken through until sex with Mercy Reid.

Ironic, really. The pussy that had broken the pretty boy killer.

Mercy's eyes opened and she stared at me blankly for a moment until she realized where she was. Her lips parted and she went to raise a hand, but her movement was restricted. Jerking against the ropes, she stared up at me, a wild look of fear in her eyes. Fear mixed with confusion.

"X..."

"I can't have you escaping, Mercy," I murmured, running a hand through her hair. At least this time I gave her something to wear, although coming back to her naked body spread-eagled on my bed didn't seem like such a bad idea.

"I promised I wouldn't run," she pleaded.

"I know you did," I said, wondering how much she actually believed her own sentiment. "But it's going to take a lot more than one night to break me, Mercy. A lot more."

"Please, X."

She gasped as I brushed my hand over her breast and lingered on the place I'd bitten in my manic state. The memory of her blood against my tongue made my cock stir.

"X," she said again. "It hurts. The ropes hurt my skin. See?"

She glanced at her wrists, urging my gaze to follow and I reached up and took her hands in mine. Her skin was raw and peeling, chafed by the ropes I'd bound her with the night before. Knowing I'd put them there...it fucking turned me on.

"You have room to sit up," I said, dropping her hands. "But I will not untie you again."

I stood sharply and strode towards the door.

"What are you going to do with me?" she asked and I stopped in the doorway, not knowing the answer to that question myself.

Mercy had sparked something inside of me, a chain reaction that I didn't understand or had the knowledge to stop. She was mine now.

I'd lock her up and keep her there forever if I had to. I was a master at taking life away, maybe I could plant enough evidence to fake her death. Then I could keep her forever.

I glanced at her over my shoulder and smiled. "Whatever I want."

Keeping secrets was my business, it was who I was, but it wasn't something I'd ever had to do with Weiss or Royal Blood. It went against everything I was to keep them out of the loop. They knew all of my depravities better than I did.

I parked my bike out the front of The Gambler's Inn, feeling torn for the first time in my sordid life. _Keep her or kill her_.

Shoving through the front door of the pub, my gaze automatically went to the bar. Fucking Mercy Reid. I knew she wasn't there, but I looked all the same. Everywhere I turned there was a reminder of her waiting to assail my senses.

That fat Necromancer fuck that'd held a knife to her throat in that exact spot where Brock was standing. He was staring at me like I was a crazy motherfucker and wasn't that the truth, now more than ever.

Whatever they did to me was unraveling piece by piece, but I had to stay stuck together for as long as I could. I didn't understand how she cracked the edges of my mind and wormed her way in. I didn't understand how I knew slivers of my past, but didn't give a shit about piecing them together.

All I understood was that Mercy Reid was locked in my apartment and she was the woman who'd tried to kill Sykes. She was the woman I was meant to kill to appease my masters.

Glaring at Brock, I strode across the pub and shoved the door to Weiss' office open with a violent jab.

"Fuck X," Weiss cursed at my abrupt appearance.

I sank down onto the sofa, kicking my boots up onto the coffee table. "Got any of that fancy scotch?"

"I'm saving that, asshole."

I raised an eyebrow. "For what? Another Necromancer raid? You gunna give some to your boyfriend out front?"

Weiss sighed sharply and got up from his chair. "Whatever." He took down the scotch from on top of the filing cabinet and poured two glasses. Handing one to me, he asked, "What's up your ass? Shouldn't you be out looking for-"

"I'm getting to it," I snapped, taking the glass.

"What happened to your hand?" Weiss asked, giving me the once over. "You look like fucking shit, by the way."

I glanced at the broken skin across my knuckles and shook my hand out like it would instantly cure the wound. An image of the broken plaster in my bedroom flashed through my mind. "Nothing."

"How's it going? Sykes is asking questions."

"It's been less than two weeks, Weiss. He can get fucked."

"Try telling that to him," he said, sitting behind the desk again. "He wants results, X. The trail is getting colder by the minute."

"Then they shouldn't have left it so fucking long," I snapped before downing a mouthful of scotch. The alcohol burned a smooth trail down the back of my throat. This really was the good stuff. Weiss had been holding out on me.

"How close are you?"

"Closer than they ever got." She was locked in my apartment, but I wasn't so sure I was going to give her up yet. Mercy was my key to freedom, but in her desperation, she'd offered me something a little more delectable than that. She'd offered retribution for us both, but she'd also offered my soul. Royal Blood couldn't give me that. They would never give back what they'd taken.

"Have you seen Mercy?" Weiss asked, tapping the side of his glass.

I glanced up, unsure of what to say.

"I know you two were fucking," he said. "I warned her off you. If you've done something to her, X..."

"I've done shit to her," I snapped. "I fucked her over your desk, by the way. I came right there." I pointed to where his cigarettes were sitting in front of him.

Weiss jerked back, picking up his precious smokes, a look of disgust on his face. "Ugh, you dirty fuck."

"I seem to remember you fucking some bitch on the back of my bike," I said rolling my eyes. "I call this even."

"I'm not shitting around, X. She didn't turn up for work."

"Is that why that gobshite Brock is back out there?"

"I'm worried about her."

I snorted, trying to cover up my jealousy. That was a new one and fuck it stung. "Why? Want to stick your pin dick in her?"

"Fuck, X," Weiss said, leaning back in his chair. "You of all people could see she was good for this place. I don't know what the fuck she was looking to get lost from, but I'd rather she did it here."

_Fuck me_. If he knew who Mercy really was, his opinion would do a total one-eighty.

"Maybe she wanted to get lost someplace else," I said, never taking my gaze from his.

"See," he replied, jabbing his finger at me, "when you say shit like that, it gives me the chills. You better not have-"

"Believe me Weiss, I have not killed Mercy Reid. How could I deprive the world of her bitch of a mouth?"

Weiss narrowed his eyes. "So you're not shitting me. You really haven't seen her?"

"I'm not shitting you," I replied, annoyance starting to shred my control. "I fucked her the night before last. Left her naked and spread out on her bed. That was the last time I saw her."

"Fine," Weiss declared, pulling a cigarette out of his packet. "But I just want to know one thing."

I raised an eyebrow as he flicked his lighter and stuck the end of his cigarette into the flame.

"Did she fuck you or did you fuck her?"

I let a sly smile pull at my lips. Weiss knew nothing, which meant I still had all the power.

"You know me," I said. "I fuck everyone one way or another."

"Fuck, do I know it." He took drag from his cigarette and let the smoke billow from his mouth. "You okay with this one? I mean, a hit has never taken you this long before."

"It's not as straightforward as I'm used to," I replied. I swirled the scotch around in my glass and breathed in the scent. Even if Mercy Reid wasn't behind it, it would still be difficult. "The trail is already cold."

"Nothing like a good challenge to get you back in the game, huh?"

I snorted before downing the rest of the scotch. Standing, I slid the empty glass across the desk and Weiss caught it before it smashed onto the floor. As far as I was concerned my status report was over.

"If you see Mercy, tell her to get her ass in here."

"And why would I see her?"

Weiss regarded me for a moment. "Suit yourself."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I realized that my 'best mate' had a thing for Mercy. Like fuck I'd let him get his greasy paws on her. Not if I had anything to do with it. Without another word, I shoved out of Weiss' office wondering what I was going to do about that. I knew him well enough to understand that if she didn't show up soon, he would go looking and the first place he'd check was my apartment.

What was I going to do about that? _Whatever it took_.

I wasn't ready to give her up yet.

## Chapter 22

# Mercy

I waited for what felt like an age before I tested the rope around my wrists.

X was gone, doing god knew what, and there was no way I was letting him tie me up again. He had to see that he could trust me...and I had to see a little more of the man I was trying my hardest to save.

He'd left the lamp on, but the curtains were shut tight. It could be any time of day out there and I wouldn't even know. I had no idea how long I was out for, how long X had toyed with me and how long I'd slept for afterwards.

I had no way of knowing that when he came back, that he would still be in the same mindset, or if he would be alone. There was only one thing he'd said to me that gave me any sliver of hope that I still had him. _They were meant to let me go_.

I wriggled my wrists against the rope, trying to get some slack against the knot. If I could loosen it just enough, I might be able to slip a hand free. I worked at the rope, sawing into my skin even more. Little droplets of blood oozed to the surface and I hissed, licking my skin to soothe the burn. I let my head bang against the headboard of the bed, the image of X over me, sinking his teeth into my skin seared into my memory. He'd looked so... _enraptured_.

Gasping as the rope bit into my skin even more, I tugged hard and my right hand slipped free. He'd restrained me again, but this time he'd been gentle about it. I had to give him at least half a point for that one. X _was_ going in the right direction. I just had to hope that by going out into the world and back into his sordid hitman life, he wouldn't forget what had happened here.

Flexing my fingers, I slid across the bed, placing my bare feet onto the carpet. Standing, I winced as my muscles screamed in protest. I felt him all over me. His hands, his mouth...his _cock_. X had almost obliterated me and it was only day fucking one. Or at least it still felt like day one.

_Balls, Mercy_ , I thought. _Show him your big balls. Don't let him give you shit_. It was the exact same thing I'd thought the day I'd met Weiss at The Gambler's Inn... Fuck! Weiss... I'd probably already missed a shift at the pub and I hadn't missed any before. I'd never even been late. Snorting at the irony of being a model employee, I shuffled across the carpet towards X's closet of horrors.

What if he came looking? What would X do if he was forced to hand me over? That was a thought too heavy to handle, so for now I resigned myself to something I could tackle right now and that was going through X's stuff.

I'd caught a glimpse the night before when X had fetched a knife to cut me free and that was bad enough. What else did he keep in here? I slid open the closet door, my hands shaking and slipping on the handle.

I gasped as I laid eyes on the full extent of X's depravity. These were the tools of his trade. I got the fact that he was a hitman, that he killed people for money and for Royal Blood, but it was another thing seeing it.

I ran my fingers over a rack of knives, nasty looking things with different kinds of blades. Some were long and thin, others wide with jagged teeth, but all of them had one thing in common. They could gut a man from head to toe in one fell swoop. My entire body tingled at the thought of the blades cutting into my chest and I swallowed the urge to heave up the non-existent contents of my empty stomach.

I could run...I could run and hope that I could get far enough before X came back, but who was I fucking kidding? I had nowhere to go. No friends, no family, no money or belongings. I could go to the cops, but I'd be stuck into witness protection for the rest of my life. I'd never get my chance for revenge then. Sykes would be untouchable. No, I had to take a gamble on X. He was my only hope and my fucked up heart wouldn't be able to take it if I left him behind.

I slid the door further across, opening the closet space right up and gasped as the full extent of X's collection came to light. There were all kinds of guns in a rack to one side, semi-automatics, shotguns, revolvers, handguns, silencers and scopes and drawers full of ammunition.

_Holy fucking shit_.

I stared at a high tech looking sniper rifle and felt a pang of fear, but at the same time, I wondered if I could learn to use something like that.

I leaned further into the closet and stumbled, my knees giving out beneath me. My shoulder smashed into the back paneling hard and I winced as pain shot through my bones. _Fuck_. I was weak, hungry and hadn't washed in at least two days. X wasn't the only one in this equation having a breakdown. I smashed a fist against the back of the closet in frustration, but stilled as I was greeted with a hollow thud. There was something hidden behind all of this madness...

The pain began to dissipate as my curiosity got the better of me and I pressed my palms against the wall and pushed. A faint click echoed in the closeness of the closet and the wall began to slide to the left. It was a false panel and it'd only been stupid luck that I'd found it at all. The entire wall was smooth and the joints in the paneling could easily be mistaken for being a part of the cabinetry.

I wondered what it was for. A panic room? A hiding place for a safe? It was too small for the former, so it must hold things that were too sordid to keep on display. I peered into the opening and found a narrow crawl space that ran the entire length of the room. It was wide enough for me to stand in, with my chest pressed against the wall and my back against the closet, so I slipped inside.

To my right, a safe had been set into one end. It looked like a locker in the hallways of a high school someplace, except for the keypad on the front. I brushed my fingers across the numbers and wondered what X kept inside. Passports, money, papers, evidence... All the things that could put him away for a very long time...or the things that could help him disappear. Him and _me_.

Shimmying back into the closet, I slid the false panel back into place and it closed with a click. If things got rough, then maybe I could use it as a place to hide out. Wishful thinking that X wouldn't check there first, but it was something.

My stomach began to squirm as I turned to the bedroom door and lingered at the threshold. If all those weapons hung in his closet, what was waiting for me out there? I had to grow a pair and take a step. I was still the same woman who'd broken into Sykes' home undetected and managed to get out unscathed, so this should be a piece of cake. There was no trigger to pull here.

Padding tentatively down the hall, I listened for any movement ahead. It was silent other than the occasional thump from someone in a nearby apartment. From the looks of the place so far, it was modest, much like my own had been. I wasn't sure it fit X's MO of being a hitman. If he worked for cash, wouldn't he have a better place? Nicer things, more security?

At the end of the hall, the space opened out into a joined lounge and kitchen. I saw the refrigerator first and my stomach growled. How long had it been since I'd eaten anything? I couldn't remember, maybe it was before starting my last shift at The Gambler's Inn and who knew when that was.

Darting forward, I wrenched the door open and the little light inside flicked on illuminating a shelf of _Corona_ beers and not much else. Groaning in disappointment, I wondered what the hell X even ate. Opening the freezer, I found that empty too. _Motherfucker_.

I rifled through drawers and cupboards, but I didn't find much of anything. The man only kept clothes, weapons and beer in his apartment. Typical male behavior, but there was nothing typical about X.

Turning, I cast my gaze across the rest of the apartment. Two large windows were set into the wall that let in the muted orange glow from the street lamps outside and there was a modest sofa and coffee table, but that wasn't what caught my attention. The opposite wall was plastered with photographs, newspaper clippings...all kinds of things stuck together like a puzzle. Like X had sat here for hours on end trying to solve a crime...

My breath hitched as I put two and two together.

Stepping forward, I rounded the kitchen bench and approached the wall, knowing that I was going to relive the horror of that night all over again. I'd stood there on the gravel outside my family home as a detective talked at me, thinking about the beautiful corpses inside. I'd wanted color and beauty in my life, but all I got was this...pain. The color red would never hold the same meaning for me ever again.

Red was the color of the blood that stained the cream carpet.

Red was the color that was underneath the spot right between the eyes.

I leaned against the wall, my legs feeling like they would crumple beneath me at any moment. I ran my fingers over the papers, reading the headlines that described the things that had happened while I was out being a selfish cow. I was out having a mediocre orgasm while my family got shot in the head.

A tear slid from my eye and I brushed it away furiously. I stood there in the semi-darkness and stared at the crime scene photographs, reminding myself why I was here in the first place.

Revenge. X was...

The front door opened and I spun on my heel, my gaze colliding with a furious looking X. He was wearing his Royal Blood leather, which meant he was out doing something for them...continuing his ruse.

"I told you I wouldn't leave," I said, pressing my back against the wall.

He slammed the door closed and strode towards me through the darkness, anger bleeding through his pores...anger that was directed at me.

"X, please, I-" He went for my neck again, but I swatted his hand away.

With a snarl, he grasped my wrists, wrenching my arms above my head.

"Why did you break free? _Why_?" he asked, leaning against me.

I cowered against the wall, wincing as his fingers bit into my raw skin. "I was hungry," I lied. It was a half-truth, but one I'd hoped he'd buy.

"Hungry?" he scoffed. " _Hungry_?"

I nodded, my gaze fixed on his.

"Liar, liar..." he murmured. "You went through my belongings didn't you? What did you hide, Mercy?"

"I didn't-"

"Don't lie to me!" he roared.

"I didn't take anything..."

"Do you want to know about the terrible things I do with the things locked in my closet, Mercy? Do you want to know what's in store for you? Believe me, you're better off not knowing."

"I was hungry!" I cried, trying to choke down the sob that was threatening to escape my throat.

"You want to look at it?" he snarled, letting my wrists go and pushing my face into the photo of my dead mother.

" _Yes,_ " I replied, opening my eyes.

"Yes?" X sounded surprised at my response. "You want to look at the dead body of your mother? You want to see how her head was blown half off by Sykes? You want to see her insides smeared on the carpet?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed, pushing against his chest. "It reminds me of what I'm fighting for."

"Revenge?"

I stared up at X defiantly. "Revenge." He smelt like leather and soap and I arched my back, jamming my breasts hard against his chest.

X let me go, jerking back and separating our bodies. "You shouldn't have escaped, Mercy."

"I didn't escape," I said through a sigh. "I'm still here."

His gaze flickered towards the hall and I wondered how far I could push him again. What did I need to give him in order to show the master manipulator how much I meant every word I said? I raised a hand and traced my left breast through the material of the T-shirt I wore, the same breast that bore his teeth marks. He'd enjoyed it...the look in his eyes as he gazed down at the pain he'd inflicted...

"Bite me again," I murmured, reaching for the hem of the T-shirt.

X stared at me with a blank expression as I stripped, letting the material fall to the floor.

"Hurt me," I murmured, hoping that this was the thing he needed from me. "Take me, X... Take my pain..."

## Chapter 23

# X

Mercy stood in the orange glow of the street lamps outside, naked and palming her breasts, and I was captivated.

"How many times do we have to go over this, Mercy?" I asked, resisting the urge to get my cock out.

"As many as we have to until you understand," she replied, beginning to roll her nipples between her fingers.

"You had your chance to run," I said, balling my hands into tight fists, trying to reign in the urge to taste her blood again. "You should've taken it."

"We both want revenge..."

"What I want is none of your business," I snapped, shoving my hands into my hair. This fucking woman...

"You want your freedom," she said, transferring her right hand to her clit and my cock began to spark into life. I wanted to bury myself into her pussy and fuck her into submission.

"I-" I stared at her hand, watching her fingers swirl around the little ball of nerves.

"You told me," she said through a sigh.

_We can take our lives back._

With a feral snarl, I stepped into her, closing the space between us in seconds. I fisted a hand into the hair at the base of her skull and dragged her towards the sofa. She cried out, but didn't fight as I twisted her black locks in-between my fingers.

I pushed her face down onto the sofa, wrenching her naked ass up into the air. She had such a perfect little behind, I'd slapped it quite a few times, but... I leaned down, fully intending to sink my teeth into her, but I stopped at the last moment, my lips brushing against her skin. Something stopped me, something I didn't have the capacity to understand.

I breathed in the musky sent of her arousal and I couldn't do it.

"Do it," Mercy moaned, rearing her ass against my lips. "Let me feel you. Let me give you what you need."

Give me what I needed? I wanted the feelings that were racing through my body to stop. I wanted to go back to the numbness, but she kept pulling me under into a heaving ocean of emotion...

"I can't."

"You can, I've seen it."

I grazed my teeth against her skin before murmuring, "Seen what?"

"Feeling. Emotion."

My entire body stiffened at her words.

"You're showing it to me now," she went on.

"What?" I was showing her nothing but _weakness_.

"Tenderness," she said, like it was the most obvious conclusion in the world.

"Tenderness?" I scoffed. "A monster, tender?"

She pushed up onto her palms, arching her back and opening her pussy to me. "If you're truly a monster, then _show me_."

Her scent washed over me and my cock strained against my jeans. It would be so easy to take her, hurt her, skin her alive...but I couldn't. _Keep her or kill her_. Did I want to keep her? One moment I was hiding the fact that I had her from Weiss, the next I was teetering on the edge of taking her life. Where was the medium? What did I want?

I palmed her ass, massaging her flesh in my hands. Sex...sex was how she did it. It was how we were connecting. I didn't want to connect. I didn't _fucking need it_.

Grabbing her around the waist, I flipped her onto her back, spreading her legs wide. I wasn't going to fuck her, but I was going to show her what it felt like to get so close to the one thing you wanted only to be denied. Kneeling in front of her, I delved into her pussy, licking her length before sucking on her clit as hard as I could. She bucked against me, rubbing into my face and I bit down, slamming a hand over her stomach to keep her from pleasuring herself.

I thrust a finger into her wetness, not completely sure how I was meant to take the state of her arousal. She was turned on by the dark places inside of me. The places that had never come into contact with my sexual desire. She was turned on by pain, just as much as I was...perhaps even more.

Mercy Reid kept blurring the fucking lines.

I stroked the walls of her pussy with my fingers, tasting her against my tongue while she purred like a kitten in heat. She muttered and moaned incoherently, her fingers curling into the sofa in her ecstasy. Tearing my mouth away, I leaned over her, palming her clit while I fucked her with my fingers, rubbing her to the edge of an orgasm that was going to shatter her. I could feel it through her skin as she writhed below me, giving me all the power.

There was this thing about power though, one moment you had it all, the next it could be taken away. All Mercy Reid had to do was open her eyes and catch me in her gaze and it would be all over for me.

But Mercy Reid didn't open her eyes.

Her thighs tightened around my waist as her pleasure swelled to unbearable levels and I pulled my fingers from her pussy, breaking all contact. She moaned loudly, mewling for release, but fucked if she was getting it.

"X," she gasped, her chest heaving. "Give it to me, fuck me. _Fuck me_."

She slid her hands down over her breasts and buried her fingertips into her pussy and my hand darted forward grasping her wrists, denying her the satisfaction.

"What are you doing?"

"Denying you," I snapped, pulling her roughly into a seated position.

"You can't-"

"I can do whatever I fucking want with you, Mercy," I murmured, lowering my lips towards hers.

"You wouldn't."

I didn't move to kiss her, I held still, my cold gaze boring into hers. Her blue eyes looked like hellfire in the unnatural orange glow from outside, hellfire and brimstone.

Sucking in a sharp breath, I stood to my full height. Flinging her over my shoulder, she squirmed against my grasp as I hauled her lithe little body back into the bedroom.

"No," she gasped as I dropped her onto the mattress. "Don't tie me up again. Please, X."

Ignoring her pleas, I took the rope that she'd escaped from and began winding it around her wrists, binding her hands together. I secured her to the bedpost before standing over her. She was bruised all over, the black marks my hands left behind standing out against her creamy skin. Beautiful pain.

She watched me as I stripped, dumping my clothes on the floor and winced as I climbed into bed behind her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her body reacting to my nakedness by rubbing against my cock.

"Letting you feel what you won't get." I flexed into her, driving my point home.

I held onto her as she tried to squirm against me, a hand splayed across her stomach, the other arm wound underneath her neck and under the pillow.

I held onto her until sleep eventually took her once more. Her body slackened against mine and I breathed in her scent, vanilla mixed with the musk of sex, before sliding off the bed and retreating to the sofa.

I could deny her, but I couldn't deny myself if I remained.

## Chapter 24

# Mercy

I wasn't sure when I woke again, but the room was still dark, the curtains closed tight.

But one thing was different. The blackout curtains weren't so blackout. Grey light streamed in from a crack around the edges where the material didn't sit flush with the wall. Light that fought against the thing that was trying to keep it locked out.

That was a fucking metaphor if I ever saw one.

My skin hummed with the continued frustration of pent up sexual frustration, but something else sang across my skin. Without moving, I glanced down towards the bedroom door, but that's not where I found him.

X sat on the floor, his naked back pressed against the side of the bed, his long legs stretched out across the carpet. He wore a pair of sweatpants, but even the sight of his tattooed chest was enough to flare my frustration into life again.

He had the switchblade in his hand, the one he'd used to cut me free the other night, using the tip to pick at the dirt underneath his fingernails. I swallowed hard, not liking the fact that he had a weapon at the ready. X with his bare hands was formidable enough.

"I know you're awake," he murmured, flicking the knife closed.

"How do you know?" I asked with a sigh. "I didn't even move."

He glanced back at me, his eyes flashing in the muted light. "Your ability to bite back when you're at the mercy of a killer is un-fucking-believable."

I pouted, pulling against the rope around my wrists. "Thank you."

Knowing a strange fascination had brought him back into the bedroom to watch me, I lay on the bed, watching him in return. He came to say something or to ask me a question and I had all the time in the world to wait since I was his prisoner and all.

"What stopped you?" he asked after a moment.

"Which part?"

He leaned his head back against the mattress and closed his eyes. "Pulling the trigger."

"Fear, I guess," I replied without hesitation.

He tilted his head and opened his eyes, fixing his gaze on mine. "Fear? You can't have fear in this game."

"I wasn't born that way. I wasn't born to do those things."

X stilled, raising his head.

"Neither were you," I went on.

His shoulders tensed, which was a glaring indicator that I was toeing the line and he narrowed his eyes. "Why didn't you leave?"

His other question kind of blindsided me. Why didn't I leave him when I had the chance? He still didn't get it and probably wouldn't for some time. His mind seemed to be in a constant state of flux and I wondered if that meant he kept forgetting things. You know, like a goldfish had a memory of only three seconds. When I was growing up, I'd watch the fish in the tank at my parent's house and wonder if they ever got bored, swimming around the same three feet of water day in day out. I'd even begged my mother to buy new fake rocks and castles to put in there so they'd have something new to look at. Then my brother ruined it and told me that by the time they'd gone around for another lap, they'd forgotten where they'd been.

It was a poor analogy, but X was fighting against the changes inside him, forgetting then remembering every time he laid eyes on me. A repetitive battle, but one that I seemed to be gaining ground on. He'd go out, forget, then come back and remember, each time his newfound feelings deepening. Or so I suspected.

"Because I believe in you," I replied. "I believe in us, together."

He snorted, picking up the knife again.

"Why would I lie to you?"

"To save your own skin you would," he said, flicking the blade out. He tilted it from side to side, inspecting the sharpness.

"No. It's more than that."

"I don't know _more_." He emphasized the last word, meaning that he couldn't understand that what he could be feeling was the beginnings of love. Fuck, he couldn't understand a lot of emotions and asking him about the most difficult one of all? That was suicide.

"Regardless," I said, my voice firm, "I'm not leaving you."

He muttered something that sounded a lot like ' _silly little girl_ ' and began picking at his nails with the knife again.

"How old are you?" I asked, desperate to keep him talking while he was in the mood.

"Twenty-nine. I think."

"You _think_?" I asked. How could he not know how old he was? That seemed... _weird_.

"I don't know," he said simply.

"How long have you worked for Royal Blood?"

"Eight years or so."

Eight years? If he was as old as he thought he was, then whatever they did was done as a young man. He would've been twenty or twenty-one...taught how to kill... The scars were on his body to prove it. Fuck, he wasn't taught though was he? He was _conditioned_.

"Did you ever want to do anything else?" I whispered, not quite sure if I should be asking.

He stilled. "You know the answer to that question."

Yeah, I could take a guess. He didn't know.

"Did you always want to kill Sykes?" he asked with a sneer.

Narrowing my eyes, I bit back, "No. I wanted to be an artist."

X flicked the knife closed and glanced up at me, staring right into my eyes with that 'deep into your soul' crap he always did.

"So you did," he murmured, a thoughtful expression on his handsome face.

I rolled my eyes. "So says my file?"

"So says your file." He tossed the knife onto the floor. "And so says you."

"I wanted color," I whispered. "Color, not corpses."

"And that's why you couldn't do it, Mercy," he stated coldly. "There is no color in murder."

"I still want it. For them." No matter the consequences for me.

"If you manage to kill Sykes, what then?"

"After?" I asked. "The moment I woke up here, I figured I'd help you find out what Royal Blood did to you to make you like this."

X snorted, running his hands over his face. "And why should you care?"

God, I had to say it again didn't I? He was having another goldfish moment. "Because I believe in you. In your potential as a human being."

"My potential?" He let out a thin laugh that said it all. Disbelief.

"I'll show you eventually."

"Eventually..." he murmured. Pushing to his feet, X unfolded his long frame into a standing position.

He padded across to the closet and slid open a door, revealing all the darkness within. Guns, knives, whips, other devices that I had no idea how depraved they could be... He reached up to a high shelf and pulled something down, something I couldn't see. He turned and glanced at me on the bed, hesitating before he decided he was going to use whatever he'd gone looking for.

I jerked against the rope, my heart hammering in my chest.

Then I realized what he held in his hands. It was a blanket. He'd only gotten a blanket out of the closet...

He frowned at my reaction before laying the blanket over my naked body, tucking me in with that thing he thought he was incapable of. Tenderness. Leaning over, he cupped my face, stroking the pad of his thumb across my lips.

"Sleep, Mercy," he murmured.

Like he was some crazy-ass hypnotist, my eyes fluttered closed, one thought lingering in my exhausted mind.

_He gave me a blanket_...

## Chapter 25

# X

Talking. Getting to know another person for who they were.

Mercy Reid was digging her way inside my flesh the more time that she was conscious and in my presence. I held her hostage in my apartment, but against everything I thought was proper in these kinds of situations, she was a willing captive. She wanted revenge for her family, but what did she want from me?

I was gone before she even woke, but this time one thing was different.

I undid her restraints.

It was quiet out tonight.

The darkness seemed to settle quickly now that the nights were getting shorter. It was like the night was trying to make the most of its time before the sun came back and flooded everything with light.

I leaned against the side of a building hidden in the shadows, watching the street opposite. I had nothing to do until I made a decision about Mercy, so to pass the time and to keep up the ruse, I began to investigate one of the other leads.

It was pointless of course. Any idiot could see with a cursory glance that neither the informant nor the money launderer had anything to do with the hit on Sykes, but I had to look busy to appease the eyes that were no doubt on me. I was getting nowhere fast and had to give them something.

_Keep her or kill her_.

I'd watched the shop front for two hours now. It was a dry cleaners named Speedy's, which was the most ironic front in all of criminal history. The money launderer that had stolen money from the Necromancers had gotten himself a new identity and a new business helping small time crooks wrought the system. I wondered if the guy realized how dumb as fuck he really was. It had taken me less then three hours to locate his place of operation and a further two of watching the building to peg down his routine.

The fucker deserved to get a bullet. Idiot.

Emotions that I couldn't get a handle on swelled in my black heart and I pressed my forehead against the brickwork to cool myself down. _Fuck_. Frustrated, I pounded my head against the wall, pain splintering through my skull. It made me momentarily forget the silent war that was brewing inside and I wondered if that's what I needed to cope. Physical pain.

Turning back to the street, I rolled my eyes as a group of men came into view. Black leather, nasty looking, no bikes, but I gathered the dirty fuckers were on a stealth mission. It was a posse of Necromancers and right in the middle was Major Fuckface himself, Sykes.

His expression was pure anger and I knew I was in the shit. Fucking good. Maybe he'd beat the crap out of me so I could become numb again.

"Your money launderer has gotten out of prison and has set up shop," I said absently as they approached.

Sykes glanced across the street at the dry cleaners and snorted. "You don't say."

He didn't sound interested in the least and I couldn't blame him. I glanced at the four Necromancer thugs he'd brought along for the ride and rolled my eyes. They were fat, old fuckers who were nothing but brawn without the brains to know how to use it. They were there for show, nothing more. The real man I should worry about was Sykes.

"You seriously think it was that stupid kid that tried to kill me?" he asked, stepping into the alley and out of view from the street.

There was no use trying to convince him otherwise, so I said, "No."

"Then what the fuck are you doing out here?"

"Killing time," I said with a smirk.

Sykes pushed me back against the wall, an arm over my chest. "This will be your only warning, Blood."

"Good to know," I replied blandly.

I could provoke him and let him cause the pain that I needed to forget all about the broken walls inside me. It would be better coming from him than her. Sykes wasn't the kind of man that would hold back and since he had a point to make, let him fucking make it.

"I don't answer to you, Sykes. I will deliver your mark in my own time and my own way. You threaten me and I will just take my sweet ass time," I said, pushing all his buttons at once.

"You're walking a dangerous path," he snarled, anger beginning to radiate from him.

I stared him down, unblinking. "What are you going to do about it?"

"Do I need to teach you a lesson in authority?" he asked, flexing his fingers.

"I guess you do."

He drew back his fist, swinging with all his strength and I didn't do a fucking thing to get out of the way. Flesh smacked into flesh and stars erupted in my vision as my head snapped to the side. That ought to do it.

"C'mon Sykes," I said with a sneer, shaking my head. "Is that all you've got? You haven't even drawn blood."

"Smart mouthed cunt," he roared, letting anger rule his actions.

He fisted a hand into the front of my T-shirt and punched again, this time pounding into my nose. Warmth began trickling down my skin and I started laughing. Fuck, I couldn't feel anything at all...this was exactly what I wanted.

Sykes just stared at me like I was losing my mind and shoved me into the middle of the alley. The Necromancer thugs formed a circle around us, readying themselves to jump on command, but their master held up his hand to stop them.

"This one's mine boys," he said with a smirk. "Stand down."

"Yeah, boys," I said, wiping my nose on the back of my hand. "Heel like the fucking dogs you are."

Sykes lunged with a roar, sinking a punch into my stomach that made me double over. He punched again, this time right into my diaphragm, driving the air from my lungs. My natural reflexes kicked in and I wheezed for air, but still didn't make a move to scramble out of the way.

"Fight back, Blood," Sykes yelled, shoving me into one of his thugs. I was pushed back into the center of the alley and into Sykes' waiting fist.

It would be sweet fucking justice if I could get in at least one punch for Mercy, but that wouldn't solve anything. I was already forgetting why I was trying to keep her in the first place, which was the whole point of letting the man that I loathed beat me into a pulp.

Blood streamed out of my nose, dripping off my chin and staining the front of my T-shirt, but it wasn't enough. I strode forward and shoved Sykes backwards and when he came back at me, I let him push me to the ground.

Sykes didn't let up his assault as he got his anger out. I gasped as a boot sunk into my stomach and embraced the pain as it burned through my body. I fought my natural instinct to curl into myself and let him beat me as much as he wanted. I forgot my heart and the feelings that had welled to the surface while I was with her.

_Tenderness_. I forgot what that word even meant. I wanted to go back and embrace the monster I was conditioned to be. That was the easy way out and I was stupid enough to want to take it no matter the cost.

"I." _Kick._ "Always." _Punch_. "Get." _Punch_. "What." _Kick_. "I." _Kick_. " _Want_."

Sykes hauled me to my feet, pain erupting through my ribs, and drew his fist back one more time. The sound of flesh and bone slamming into flesh echoed down the alley as his fist smashed into my eye.

I slid down the wall, laughter bubbling in my chest. I tasted my own blood on my tongue and thought of Mercy.

"You've got forty-eight hours, Blood. If I don't have what I want by then, you'll go swimming with the fishes in the river, got it?"

I wiped my nose with the back of my hand smearing blood across my skin. "Your wish is my command, _master_."

With a snarl, Sykes fisted a hand into the front of my T-shirt and pulled me away from the wall. A moment later, his fist smacked into my cheekbone sending me back into the brickwork.

"I will enjoy putting a bullet into your smart mouth, Blood," he said before spitting a mouthful of saliva at me. "I will enjoy watching your pretty boy head explode."

I laughed at the irony as they retreated into the darkness, the pain from my beating blooming across my skin and settling deep into my bones. He sure did like shooting people in the head. It must be his sick fetish.

Sykes thought he'd won this round, but little did he know I had the one thing he desired above all else and he didn't even know her name.

_Mercy Reid_.

She was the key to everything.

## Chapter 26

# Mercy

Staring up at the ceiling of X's bedroom, I couldn't believe that I was free.

He'd fingered me right to the edge of a shattering orgasm before tying me to his bed and I'd been so worked up, I would've done anything for him to sate the need that had swollen between my legs. He'd denied me the one weapon I had against his conditioning, which meant he was onto me.

Then we'd talked...we'd actually fucking _talked_. He showed me a tiny piece of him and it was a treasure I would hold onto forever.

But the most important fact was, he'd untied me while I slept.

Fuck I wanted him. I wanted him to fuck me so bad. Was that so wrong? Considering the things he'd done to me, maybe it was, but I wouldn't have it any other way. My life had changed irreversibly the night I walked into my childhood home and found my family dead on the plush cream carpet. There was no going back. Not now and not ever.

Padding out into the lounge room, I picked up the T-shirt I'd dropped on the floor hours before and pulled it over my head. The room was warm, the radiator having kicked in some time ago. I switched on a lamp and sat on the sofa, curling my legs underneath me and stared up at the wall. It was still plastered with my story, my reason for revenge, and I studied it as I waited for X to come back.

I had no control over where he went or what he did, I was willingly at his mercy, so I let my mind play over the night that I went to Sykes' home and tried to kill him.

It was that night that had taught me that I wasn't a cold-blooded killer, _not yet_. For six months I'd played that night over and over in my mind until I knew it back to front. I'd had a foolproof plan to get in and get out. I'd planned Sykes' murder right down to the last detail. Once he was dead, his body wouldn't be found until I was far away and someone else.

Alison Crawford entered that house and Mercy Reid was meant to leave.

He'd woken when he was meant to stay asleep. If I didn't hesitate, then he wouldn't have seen me and tried to defend himself in the first place. I'd choked because I was still a human being who was afraid of taking another life. What I had to do next was simple. I had to overcome the fear and guilt of committing murder, but the secret to that sordid little nugget was still lost to me.

There was one person who knew. _X_. He knew and he could teach me.

It was a lot more than wanting him to do something for me. I wanted to help X find his own path to revenge and salvation. I wanted his heart to beat again and I'd carve my own out of my chest and hand it to him if that's what it took. X and I belonged together.

There was movement outside in the hall and I stiffened as the deadlock clicked and the door opened. X shuffled into the apartment, dumping his keys on the floor and slamming the door closed behind him. Blood was smeared all over his face, his eyebrow was split and his nose had gushed red all down his front...

"X?" I asked, fixed to the spot, my heart jackhammering in my chest. "What happened?"

He ignored me, throwing his leather jacket over the back of the sofa. He didn't even glance at me as he strode down the hall and I began to panic. What had happened to him? Had all of this suffering been for nothing? Had he reverted?

I could choke again and hide in the lounge as he hurt, or I could do the thing I was meant to do all along. _Have the fucking balls to do what needed to be done_. So I followed him into the hall, my bare feet silent on the carpet.

"X," I cried at his back, desperate for his acknowledgement. "Answer me!"

He turned sharply and grabbed me around the neck, slamming me back into the wall.

"Do I have to tie you up again?" he snarled, eyes flashing with anger.

His touch made my bruised skin flare and I winced. "Let me help you. Let me-"

He leaned close, his breath hot against my face. "I don't need your help."

I pushed against him, clawing at his hand around my neck. It was the same old argument. "Then tie me up," I pleaded. "Tie me up and _hurt me_. Fuck me, bite me, take my blood... Let me help you."

"You would let me cut you?" he asked, his grip slackening. "You would willingly offer your life to a monster? _Still_? I was fine before you came along."

"I'm on your side," I whispered. "How many times do I have to say it?"

" _I don't believe you._ "

How could he? He didn't seem to believe in much these days. He had no reason to trust anybody considering his lot in life.

"Let me show you."

His gaze searched mine for a moment, my heart breaking at the sight of the blood smeared over his face and chest. He snarled and let his hand drop from around my neck and turned, shoving open the door to the bathroom.

I sucked in a few lungfuls of air, the bruised skin aching from his constant touch. Water started flowing in the shower and I padded down the hall, lingering in the doorway. X had stripped, flinging his bloodstained clothes on the floor. He stood in the shower, naked as the day he was born.

The bathroom was rapidly filling with steam as water pounded in the shower and I stepped into the room boldly. _No weakness, no fear and strength, Mercy._

X turned sharply at my entrance, water cascading over his head, and my nipples began to tighten at the sight of his naked body. He was really something to look at and covered in blood...that was a sight that awoke a desire too dark to understand.

I dragged the T-shirt he'd dressed me in over my head and it dropped to the floor, his gaze settling on my breasts where his teeth marks were still visible against my pale skin. Trying to keep the fear from reaching my eyes, I stepped into the shower, warm water trickling over my body, soothing the ache in my flesh.

"Get out," he snapped, grabbing my wrists and twisting.

Pain burned through my raw skin, but I pressed my body against his defiantly. " _No_."

He pressed my back against the tiles, flexing his cock against my stomach. "I want to kill you," he murmured. "I need to kill you."

"Then why haven't you?" I asked, terror and lust thumping in my heart all at the same time. I pulled my hands away and trailed them over his abs. My fingers found his cock and began stroking.

X's eyes rolled back slightly and he lowered his lips toward mine, before covering my mouth with his. I sucked on his bottom lip, my fingers leaving his cock and burying into his wet hair, holding him to me. I kissed him softly at first and as he began to respond, I increased the pressure, teasing his skin with the tip of my tongue. He moaned softly, brushing his fingertips across my hips, his cock starting to harden even more against my thigh.

_That's it_ , I thought as I began to roll my hips against his erection. _Give into it_.

Strong arms wound around my waist, holding my body against his as he plunged his tongue into my mouth, killing me with a passion that I hadn't felt from him before. Wherever he'd been and whatever had happened to him, X was trying to fight the changes that were assailing him from every front.

Who'd beaten him? _Why_? It was clear that he'd let them, because I knew enough about him to know that he would never let anyone lay a finger on him. He was using the pain to escape his emotions, using it to numb himself to them. Well then, I just had to bring him back again and again until he didn't want to escape anymore.

I tasted his blood as the water from the shower pulsed over us, washing it from his skin. He never once pulled back from the sting in his cut eyebrow as he pinned my body against the tiled wall, kissing my mouth and rubbing his cock against me. I ran my hands down his back and cupped his ass, digging my fingers into his flesh. He moaned deeply into me in response, his hands grasping desperately at my hips.

Then I was in his arms, winding my legs around his waist, latching onto him as the head of his cock rubbed against the length of my pussy. I needed it in me. I needed him to deliver me right to the edge and into the abyss. I needed to come and X was the only man who would do.

I clawed at him, writhing between him and the wall, trying to force myself down and onto his erection, but it seemed he wanted the same thing.

X thrust without warning, striking deep and I cried out, my fingers digging into his back. His cock slid in and out, his pelvis massaging my clit at the perfect angle and I tightened my legs around his waist. He filled me again and again, his lips against the skin of my neck, licking, sucking... _biting_.

I rolled my hips, meeting him thrust for thrust. My skin began to burn against his as my orgasm swelled to the surface. I clawed at his face, trying to pull his lips to mine desperate for something to connect with. X was too strong for me, even in his beat up and exhausted state and he resisted my touch.

Denied the one thing I wanted, I latched my mouth onto his shoulder and sunk my teeth into his flesh. The contact seemed to give him a burst of energy and he slammed his cock into me, letting his teeth dig into my shoulder. We'd have matching marks after this was all done. Beautiful, intimate, pain.

With a cry, I raked my fingernails down his back, across his scars, marking him in my ecstasy. He fucked me hard, pushing my orgasm to breaking point and I was lost to it. I was obliterated under his assault as he began to pulse inside me, letting out his pleasure and pain inside my pussy. This guttural, almost animalistic grunt, escaped his lips as he thrust one last time and held, coming deep inside of me.

_Fucking hell_.

He held me up against the tiled wall of the shower for what felt like an age, his cock still inside me, as we both gasped for air. We were frozen in the aftermath of another epic fuck and this time it was almost on equal ground. It was him and me. _Almost_...

X pulled his softening cock out of me and I slid carefully down the tiles and onto my feet, my knees feeling unsteady. I was beaten in all senses of the word, but I still had to keep fighting.

" _Mercy_ ," X said through a heavy breath.

"I'm here, X," I replied, clinging to him as he slid down the tiled wall and onto the floor of the shower.

I climbed into his lap and buried my face into the crook of his neck as warm water pounded down on us. He was emotionally exhausted, utterly beaten and his arms wound around my back, encasing my body against his.

"Everything will be okay," I murmured, kissing his neck.

He held me so tight, it was like he was clinging to me to stop himself from drowning. Which was ironic, considering where we were and as far as I was concerned, he could hold onto me for as long as he needed.

"What are you doing to me?" he whispered.

"I'm bringing you back to life."

As we curled up in the bottom of the shower, water pounding over us, I realized he'd never answered my question about my fate.

And you know what? I didn't give the slightest fuck.

## Chapter 27

# X

One touch from Mercy Reid was all it took to break my resolve.

Staring into the bathroom mirror, I regarded the black eye Sykes had given me. It'd swollen some, but I could still see out of it. It'd go down in a couple of days, but who the fuck cared? A black eye meant shit when I had less than forty-eight hours to deliver my mark.

I had two options. Give him Mercy or die.

But there was a third, wasn't there? Another option that _she'd_ been trying to drum into me from the moment she'd woken up tied to my bed.

Forsake everything I had ever come to know, abandon my nature, abandon my masters, take her and run. That freedom would only come with a river of blood and a pile of corpses. The pile that I already sat atop was higher than I could ever hope to count.

There was movement behind me and I caught Mercy's reflection in the mirror. The bruises around her neck were changing from black to yellow, fading at the edges. Her unnatural black hair hung around her shoulders, blending in with the T-shirt she wore. The sight of her wearing my clothes did something strange to my heart and I closed my eyes to separate myself from it. She'd had plenty of reason to give up, plenty of opportunities to escape, but she was still here.

"Where are you going?" she asked when I didn't say anything.

"I need to see Weiss," I replied.

She was silent and I opened my eyes, fixing on her reflection again. She looked panicked and I couldn't blame her.

"Royal Blood expect results," I went on. "I have to report."

"Are you-?"

" _Don't_." My fingers dug into the counter top.

"X-"

" _Mercy_ ," I snapped. "If you know what's good for you, you'll shut the fuck up."

She cowered against the doorframe, but didn't let her gaze drop from mine. She had balls, all right. Maybe next time she wouldn't choke.

Straightening up to my full height, I turned to face her. "Stay here."

She sunk back into the hallway as I passed, not making a move to stop me. No doubt, she'd be gone by the time I came back and maybe I should feel something about that, but right now I didn't give a fuck. Give her a head start. I'd catch her eventually.

_Forty-eight hours_. It was more like thirty-seven now.

I picked up my leather jacket from the sofa and slid it on, scooping up my keys from where I'd dropped them on the floor.

"X," Mercy called out and I turned, watching her linger in the dark hallway. Her fingers curled around the doorjamb, her gaze tentative. "Can you bring back something to eat?"

Without a word, I shoved open the front door and left her behind, knowing that she'd still be there when I got back.

Yeah, and my heart did this stupid fucking fast beating thing at the thought.

The Gambler's Inn was deader than dog shit.

The clientele had really dropped off since I kidnapped Mercy Reid. Brock was a real fucking shining example of customer service with his sour expression and asshole exterior. He didn't have the same flair as Mercy. Nobody did.

As I crossed the pub, going straight for Weiss' office, I never even glanced to the side. There was no point lingering out here anymore. Brock's tits were a negative five million on a scale of one to ten.

I felt the eyes of the entire place watching me as I made my way through the old pub. Must have something to do with the black eye. It was no secret I was somebody to be feared, but with this shit on my face? They either thought I was full on crazy or thought they had a chance to take me out. There went my fucking credibility.

I jabbed open the door to the office and Weiss glanced up, his expression contorting in a sympathetic wince as he saw Sykes' handiwork. Motherfucker.

"Sykes really did a number on your face," he said as I sat down.

I shrugged.

"You're not the pretty one anymore," he said with a laugh, before lighting a smoke.

"At least for a few days."

"I'm not sure how many times I can warn you, X," he said, tossing his lighter onto the desk. "You're playing a dangerous game. Sykes _will_ kill you given the slightest provocation and Greggor has a mind to do the same."

I snorted. In other words, if their dog didn't bark on command then they'd take it out back and put it down, then chop it up into little pieces and bury the evidence. I was already a ghost so they could save themselves a step right there.

"Sykes gave me forty-eight hours," I said. "That was...I don't know...a while ago." I waved my hand absently.

"Fucking hell," Weiss exclaimed. "Do you want to die, X? I thought you wanted your freedom. That's what this job is. One more hit and you can ride off into the fucking sunset. What the fuck happened to you?"

Did I want to die? Is that why I kept pushing the envelope on every front? Maybe. It would be a sight more peaceful than this shit.

"I'll do something about it, Weiss," I said to appease him more than me.

"You fucking better. If you fail, you're dead, but it also means all out war for those left behind. Don't be a selfish cunt."

"Oh shit," I said, throwing my hands into the air in mock defense. "Sorry to let you down, boss."

Weiss shook his head, a concerned expression on his face. "Maybe it's a good fucking thing you're getting out."

"Maybe."

"Are you close to finding the mark?" he asked, putting the million-dollar question right on the table.

"I'm close." The mark was in my apartment.

"You're going to deliver in the time frame Sykes wants?"

I nodded.

" _X_."

"I will deliver results, Weiss. Fucking lay off." I was going to deliver results all fucking right and maybe... _just maybe_...it wasn't going to be the ones Sykes or Greggor wanted. Maybe they could go get fucked and have fun fighting a never-ending turf war. Blood for blood.

"Mercy still hasn't shown up," Weiss declared.

"You're still on that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I knew he was just fishing for information, he suspected I'd done something to her.

"You were around here quite a bit sniffing around her pussy, X."

"Oh fucking hell, Weiss," I exclaimed. "I fucked her a couple of times. I've got better things to do than lead her on indefinitely, you know that. Besides, I'm incapable of more. I couldn't even if I wanted to."

"Fuck 'em and leave 'em?" he asked with a lewd wink.

"We need to go out and find you some pussy to bang," I drawled. "It's a sure bet if I go along."

"Asshole." Weiss took a long drag from the end of his cigarette. "You know I would've liked to fuck Mercy at least once before she split."

He was still fishing, he knew me too fucking well. She was my weakness, and by showing up here as much as I did before I understood how deep it ran, had only served to put me in the metaphoric shit. My eyebrow twitched as I tried to keep it together.

"How was she X? It's not like you to hold out on me."

I shrugged. "She purred like a fucking kitten when I stuck my finger in her ass," I said, every word slicing into my chest like a thousand knives.

"You've seen her, haven't you?" Weiss asked, sitting up straight.

There wasn't any use hiding it now. I nodded. "I've seen her."

Weiss sat up straight in his chair, his cigarette forgotten. "And?"

"And what?"

He frowned. "Did she say why she split?"

"She didn't say anything of much," I replied, thinking about all the things she did say. Dangerous, forbidden things...

"Fuck, X. I'm not shitting around."

"I could never get out of her what she was running from," I said absently. That was the truth, oddly enough. I had to threaten her with her life to even get the words past her lips. I'd solved the puzzle and she still hadn't talked. You could be in awe of her choice for bravery or stupidity. Either was a safe bet.

"Fuck," Weiss said through a heavy breath.

"You want a master manipulator? Maybe she can have my job once I'm gone." My expression started to fall and I quickly corrected myself before Weiss picked up on the change. Mercy had the capability to become an assassin. She had all the markers. Fuck, she'd gotten all the way to the end of her plot, but there was one thing she couldn't get right. She couldn't pull the trigger.

Mercy Reid was fucking right. We could do this together. I could be the one to show her how to pull the trigger.

"She'd have to come back for that," Weiss replied. "Though I'm not so sure. She hesitated when those Necromancers came in here. It takes a special kind of monster to pull the trigger, you know that X."

"I know." I knew better than anyone what it took and especially what had to be sacrificed in order to do it. But most of all, I knew what it took to live with it afterward.

"You better get the fuck out of here, then. You've got a mark to deliver. I expect a photo on my desk in-"

I checked my watch. "Thirty-six hours."

Standing, I swiped the bottle of scotch from its home on top of the filing cabinet and twisted the cap off.

"Fuck off," Weiss exclaimed.

I tossed the lid at him and backed towards the door. "I'll pay you back."

As the door closed behind me, I heard his pissed off reply, "Like fuck you will."

There were a lot of uncertainties in this story, but I knew that all the pieces didn't add up. Not all of mine anyway and one thing was crystal clear. Weiss was switched on to the fact that I knew more than I was letting on. I gave away that I knew something about Mercy Reid and wasn't inclined to share. Now he'd dig and find out everything. That's what a man did when he had a hard on for a beautiful woman and even more so when the said woman was unobtainable.

Out front of the pub, I sat on my bike in the darkness and downed the last of the scotch in one go. I threw the bottle into the gutter and it shattered against the old bluestone, echoing down the empty street. Just another timeline to deal with. No problems.

I stared at the pizza shop down the street. It was the only other place open, besides the pub, and the one thing I could think of amongst all the shit I was in was the fact that Mercy hadn't eaten in three days. There should've been a lot more pressing things to wonder about, but she came straight to mind.

I had a sick twisted case of Stockholm syndrome. Wasn't the victim meant to fall for their captor, not the other way around?

Maybe I'd been the victim all along.

Kicking my bike into life, I roared down the street in the opposite direction. I had something more pressing to do than get her food. I had to plant the seeds that would save our lives, because when my time was up, I had to be one hundred percent sure I was making the right decision.

_Keep her or kill her_.

## Chapter 28

# Mercy

I wasn't sure what I was meant to do in X's apartment until he got back. He lived incredibly 'light'.

There was no television, no books or newspapers, no food...there was just a wall of murder and a closet full of tools to accomplish it. Despite my precarious situation, I was bored.

I could be planning Sykes' murder, or I could be planning my escape with X when he finally saw the light. I could be doing a lot of things, but I'd promised I wouldn't leave. If X came back and I wasn't here...then all the suffering we'd gone through in the past few days would be for nothing.

Shivering, I wrapped my arms around myself. Summer was coming, but it was still cold inside the apartment and I still wore nothing but X's T-shirt. It carried his scent and I buried myself in it for comfort. Twisted, but what was I going to do about it? Nothing.

I padded into the bedroom, my bare feet numb with cold. Spying my bag in the corner, I pulled the zipper open and began rifling through the contents. I was in such a hurry to stuff my things in there, I wasn't sure what exactly I'd packed. Thankfully, I put my hands on underwear and socks amongst the shirts and jeans that I favored these days. My boots were against the wall, carefully placed together, the toes flush against the skirting. He'd cared enough to take care of my things. I suddenly felt warm at the thought that he'd cared for me at least a little bit since the beginning.

I was shimmying into a pair of knickers when I heard a loud knock at the front door. My head snapped up at the sharp sound, my heart pounding. I'd gotten so used to the silence that any noise, no matter how small, felt out of the ordinary.

I suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to hide when I probably should be screaming for help. But knowing the kind of men X probably ran with, that didn't seem like the best idea.

I hesitated, holding my breath. Maybe they'd go away.

There was another knock on the door, this time a little louder. When there was no answer, there was a metallic rattle and the sound of the deadbolt opening echoed through the apartment.

My heart thundered in my chest. What if it was Necromancers? What if it was Sykes? _Fuck, fuck, fuck_.

I peered around the doorframe and into the hall as the front door opened and I stifled a gasp as Weiss came into view. I should've known he'd eventually come looking. He'd given me nothing to fear from him from day one and he'd even been there to help X save me from those Necromancer thugs, but something told me that this wasn't the same man.

I knew he was X's handler, that much was obvious now, but the burning question was, how much did he know about me? X had said he'd gone to report his progress but had never mentioned what that progress was. My skin began to prickle as Weiss crossed into the lounge room and out of view. I didn't want to know.

Backing across the room, I slid open the closet door as silently as I could and stepped inside amongst X's weapon stash. I couldn't risk Weiss finding me. There was so much I didn't know, so many players that had different faces. I couldn't trust anyone but X.

I closed the door, plunging myself into darkness. Turning, I pressed my palms into the false panel until it clicked. There was a thud from out in the apartment and I bit my bottom lip to stifle a gasp, before shimmying into the crawlspace.

The panel clicked home just as I heard heavy footsteps coming down the hall. There was evidence that I'd been here all over the place. Clothes, ropes... _Fuck_ , my bag and boots were out there. Weiss would know I'd been here. A bumfuck hick with two brain cells would know I'd been here. I was screwed and if he knew about the crawlspace, I would be up shit creek without a paddle.

I pressed my back against the wall, my heart hammering painfully in my chest. Surely he would hear it and come for me. The panel would fly open and hands would tear me out and take me away from this place. Away from X.

Weiss wasn't a nice man. Weiss was X's handler. Weiss would kill me himself if he knew who I was.

If Weiss was here, did that mean he suspected X of hiding something? If he was still refusing to hand me over, then I still had a chance at winning his trust. I could win his heart, I could...

The closet door slid open and I shoved my hand into my mouth and bit into my flesh. A thin piece of ply stood between me and what felt like certain death.

_Please don't find me, please don't find me, please don't find me..._

After a sickening moment, the door slid closed and footsteps left the bedroom. Still terrified, I curled up against the safe, shoving my knees into my T-shirt and burying my face into the material.

What if he knew I was here and was waiting for me to come out? I shivered, my entire body rigid, listening for the moment that he left. A few minutes later, I heard the front door open and close, but I didn't trust that he wasn't still out there, so I waited.

I waited so long I think I fell asleep. The darkness lingered and my toes became numb from cold and my stomach cramped from being curled up in a tight ball for hours.

Hiding in the darkness like a scared little child, lacking the ability to pull the trigger...even to save my own life. _You're not a killer Alison Crawford. You're not a killer Mercy Reid. A name doesn't change anything. You're still the same petty coward you were all your life._

A thud brought me back to consciousness and my head snapped upright. The panel clicked and was wrenched to one side, light flooding into the darkness. Blinking hard, I held a hand up to shield my eyes, my heart hammering in my chest.

" _Fuck_."

It was a low hiss, but I'd recognize his voice anywhere now. It was encoded deep into my skin and seared into all the dark corners.

"X?" I choked through my terror.

Strong arms reached down for me and I was pulled from the crawlspace. I fell against his chest, clinging to him as he brought me out of the closet and into the bedroom, the sudden light forcing me to squint. I breathed in his scent, trying to commit the feel of his body against mine to memory.

"Do I need to ask what happened?" he murmured, a slight twinge of annoyance in his voice. Somehow I knew it wasn't directed at me and I tightened my grip.

"Weiss," I whispered. "He came looking."

"You hid from Weiss?"

I nodded. "I know what he does. I'm not stupid. If he found me, he would know. He'd take me away from you."

X ran a hand through my hair and I stiffened slightly at his odd display of softness.

"There's food in the kitchen," he murmured after a moment. "Nobody will be coming back here anytime soon."

"How can you be sure?" I asked, pulling away. "There's evidence all over the place. He knows I've been here. They'll come back for me..."

"Come," he said, ignoring my plea. Curling a hand around my arm, he led me down the hall and into the kitchen where a pizza box sat on the bench.

Fucking hell. My stomach growled as the smell of cheese hit my nostrils. _He brought me food_.

"Eat," he said as I stared at the cardboard box. "I'll be back soon."

"Where are you going?" I cried, trying to grab his arm.

X turned, his expression cold. "I'm going to end this."

My heart lept to my throat. "End it, how?" I called out after him, but all the response I got was a door slamming in my face.

The word 'end' in X's vocabulary only meant one thing as far as I was concerned.

X was going to kill Weiss.

## Chapter 29

# X

Mercy Reid hiding in the crawlspace behind my depravity.

I'd come back to the apartment with thoughts of the future and a pizza in one hand to find the deadbolt unlocked on my front door. The first thing I'd thought about was her.

I'd opened the door to the apartment and something was different. There was a change in the air and I'd realized it was because she wasn't there. For a sickening moment I thought she'd run from me...or had been taken. This little thing tickled at the base of my skull, this little thing that I was now understanding was faith, clawed at my mind and I'd dropped the pizza on the bench and went for the one place I knew she was smart enough to find. She'd gone through my things and was still spouting crap about fighting together and believing in me, so she had to know the one place in the apartment she could hide if forced to.

Mercy Reid was smart. It was one of the things that commanded my fixation.

Her intelligence and her pussy. It was all interconnected.

Knowing that she was safe, that she was still with me, did things to my insides that I didn't understand. Maybe in time they would make sense, but not today.

It was around two am by the time I pulled my motorbike up out the front of The Gambler's Inn. Closing was at two sharp and the lights were still on, which meant somebody was still home. Weiss' bike was still in the no standing zone where he usually left it, so it was safe to say that he was still chain-smoking like a nasty fuck in his office.

I didn't care who the fuck he was, nobody broke into my apartment and fucked with my shit and lived to regret it. Nobody fucked with Mercy and... I shook my head. This was about more than a bit of pussy.

Opening the outside door to the pub, I stepped inside to silence. Brock glanced up from behind the bar and narrowed his eyes. Striding across the nasty carpet, I rounded the bar and fisted my hands into his shirt, yanking him close.

"Hey man," he exclaimed, holding his hands up. "Fuckin' psycho."

"If you know what's good for you," I snarled, "you'll get the fuck out of here and keep walking."

"Or what?"

"Or, I'll put a bullet in your head and believe me, that's me being _kind_."

His eyes widened slightly and he nodded. I let him go and he backed away, his gaze never leaving me. Once he was around the bar, he bolted for the door. Slimy bastard knew what was good for him.

Fixing my gaze onto Weiss' office, I crossed the pub, one question on my mind. _How much did he know_?

I shoved open the office door with a violent jab and it swung inwards and collided with the wall. Weiss' head jerked up and he stiffened when he saw who was standing in front of him.

"Don't look so surprised," I snarled.

Glancing over my shoulder out into the empty pub, he snorted, leaning back in his chair. "I see you cleaned the place out. No witnesses, right?"

I cocked my head to the side.

"Oh, c'mon X. Do you really think I'm that fuckin' dumb?"

"Yes," I replied without hesitation. "I have known you a long time."

Weiss leaned forward again, his hand disappearing underneath the desk. I knew he kept a handgun strapped there and it was no surprise he'd think about drawing it on me now. I was out for blood after all.

"Find what you were looking for?" I asked. "Or were you disappointed she was long gone before you could fuck her?"

"Club over all, X," Weiss snarled, his usual calm exterior starting to crack. "Or have you forgotten that?"

"On the contrary," I said. "I've forgotten _nothing_."

Weiss shook his head like he couldn't fathom that his pet had deigned to develop a will of his own. "What has she done to you?"

"She's opened my eyes Weiss. I always understood what happened to me, but I didn't have the capability to give a fuck about it. Greggor took that away from me and Mercy helped me find it again."

"Where is she, X?" He raised the gun from underneath the desk and pointed it straight at me.

There was a slight tremor in his hand, which gave away a lot of things, but I wasn't interested in any of them...except one. Fear. Yeah, he should be fucking scared of the monster he'd had a hand in creating. The monster that was turning against his masters.

I stared right into his eyes and replied, "Somewhere you'll never find her."

He rose to his feet, rounding the desk to come and face me. "Where she is is no concern," he spat. "You, however..."

I strode forward, letting my expression change into pure anger. I let the thing I so carefully locked away inside me flare to the surface and for a split second I felt my control slipping. The barrel of the gun pressed into my chest as I faced down Weiss, silently daring him to pull the trigger.

"You're going to kill me now?" I asked. "Your dog isn't going to heel at your command anymore, so what are you going to do about it?"

Weiss' lip curled into a sneer and he flicked the safety off.

Did I want him to shoot me point blank? Did I want this suffering to end? I thought of Mercy and knew that there was something else inside me living with the monster that Royal Blood had created. My hand flew up and grasped Weiss' wrist and pushed upwards. The gun went off with a boom that echoed in the close confines of the office, the sound making my ears buzz.

Twisting, I rammed my back into Weiss' chest and heaved, throwing him over my shoulder. He landed hard on the flat of his back, his grip still wound around the handle of the gun. With a roar, I straddled him and pounded a fist into his face, blind rage taking over everything. Blood erupted from his nose as I hit him again and again, delighting in the pain I was causing the man who would take her away from me. The man who'd been a part of keeping me in line.

"I know all about you, X," he choked out through a mouthful of blood.

I hesitated, my fist halting mid-punch, and Weiss sneered in satisfaction.

"I know a lot of things I bet you're dying to know."

Did it matter? Did I give a rat's ass about who I was before? All that mattered right now was the fact that Weiss already knew I was deviating from my scheduled programming and Mercy would come into that equation easily enough. It was only a matter of time before he realized who Mercy Reid really was.

I was so engrossed in my rage that I didn't see the gun coming until it collided with the side of my skull. I fell to the side with a grunt, stars shooting through my vision.

Weiss was on his feet in one swift movement, and I did the same, my training kicking in and keeping me in the moment. The gun was pointed straight at my head and I knew that whatever happened next, that this was going to end badly for both of us.

"You know it's inevitable," Weiss said, wiping his bloody nose with his free hand. "Either way, you're dead. It's nothing but protocol. Don't take it personally."

"Protocol?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. It was never mentioned or implied, everything Greggor, Weiss and Royal Blood did was to welcome me into the fold. They'd treated me like a brother from day one, but underneath all of that was the unspoken fact that if I went against them for any reason...they would kill me on the spot. I was expendable.

Like fuck I was going to let that happen.

"Have you got a protocol for this?" I snarled and lunged, grasping Weiss around the wrist. I smashed his hand against the wall with all the force I could manage and his fingers loosened on the gun. It clattered to the floor as his left hand came at me from behind. Ducking at the last second, his fist clipped the back of my head making me stumble and lose my hold on him.

We dove for the gun at the same time, but Weiss was closer. His fat, grubby fingers curled around the muzzle and swung. The butt collided with my temple with surprising force and my head snapped backwards, my vision blurring.

I was out like a light before I even hit the floor.

Vanilla.

And something else. Darkness? No, not darkness. Betrayal.

Consciousness came back to me in pieces. Images, faces of the now, interlaced with the past. Blood, gunpowder and Weiss. Weiss had been there, but where was that?

Awareness started to flood back and whatever my subconscious was trying to reveal to me was flung back into the darkness.

My arms were bound behind my back and my hands were underneath my shoulders as I was dragged across broken earth. Plastic dug painfully into my wrists, biting into my flesh. Cable ties. Smart. If I got out of this, then my hands would be scraped raw. A little pain didn't faze me, it was an anchor to keep me focused in the now.

At first I thought I was going blind, but I realized that it was dark out. Had to be at least three or four am, since the sun began to rise around six this time of year. Wind brushed against my skin, the sound of rustling leaves high overhead.

He'd taken me out into the forest to kill me. I hope the asshole had a shovel.

I was dumped unceremoniously onto the ground, boots crunching on the undergrowth as he stepped away.

"On your knees, X."

There was no playing dead on Weiss' watch. He knew most of my tricks, but I still had plenty of cards left to play in my hand. Plenty that he didn't know about.

Groaning, I rolled over onto my side, pushing up onto my knees. My head throbbed from the blow he'd given me back at The Gambler's Inn and from the beating he'd probably given me getting me to the forest. No sympathy for a dead man. Still, I assessed the situation like any skilled killer would do.

My hands were bound behind my back, a plastic cable tie biting into my skin. There was no knot to loosen and no way to get out of this unless I cut my way free. The darkness was almost total, which meant we were miles from the city. He'd had to have thrown me into the boot of his car, driven here and dragged me a ways from the road. He'd shoot me and then bury my body out underneath the stars where nobody would ever find it.

Then he'd go and find Mercy.

An image of her bound, beaten and bloody came to mind and anger began to flare once more. I wouldn't let her suffer the same fate.

I had to make this quick. I knelt in the dirt on the balls of my feet and stubbed my toe against the hard earth and glared up at Weiss as he pulled a gun out of a holster under his jacket. The blade that was hidden in the heel of my boot worked its way free and I began sawing as he screwed a silencer onto the end of his gun.

So that's how he was going to do it.

My chest heaved as I stared up at my once best friend and handler as he held his gun to my head. The barrel pressed into that spot right between the eyes, the same place Sykes had put bullets into Mercy's family. I had to get back to her. They knew where she was.

"It's done X," Weiss said. "I'm sorry to do this to you, but it's time to put you out of your misery. Greggor said if you ever started to revert, then I was to put you down."

"So you're just going to shoot me like a dog?" I asked, my fingers twitching as the cable tie snapped. "After all the shit we've been through?"

Weiss laughed, shaking his head. "Seriously, X? I'm not that stupid. I know how you operate. No mercy."

He clicked the safety off.

"It's been a long eight years, X, but deep down you knew this day was coming."

They'd promised me my freedom. I'd taken it to mean an out to live my life however I wanted, but now I realized their idea of freedom was a bullet in the head. I was never going to get what I wanted. I was never going to be free and knowing that now? Option three was the sweetest deal in the history of the world.

Weiss's body stiffened as he went to pull the trigger and I chose her.

My right hand flew up and smashed into the silencer, knocking it from Weiss' hand. It went flying into the darkness, but I didn't need a gun to take the son of a bitch down. Rising to my feet, I jammed a shoulder into his stomach, pressing up into his ribs and driving the air from his nasty nicotine soaked lungs.

Weiss doubled over, gasping for air and I brought my fist up, punching underneath his jaw. His teeth clacked together with the force of the blow and he grunted, falling to his knees.

It never occurred to me to stop as I worked the secondary blade out of the toe of my boot, kicking with all the strength I could muster. The steel sunk into Weiss' flesh, right between his ribs and a roar tore from his lips, echoing off into the night. Falling to his side, his hands instinctively clamped down on the wound.

I could kill him right now. I could end his miserable life once and for all. Before today, I never wanted to cause him real harm. He was my best friend after all. We were nasty fuckers, did terrible things in the name of Royal Blood, but that was the code. That was the life. He was my handler, but now I knew I was the pet. Pets were never equals to men like Weiss.

My life was a lie.

Weiss' friendship was a lie.

Royal Blood was a lie.

I fisted my hand into the front of his shirt and yanked him off the ground. He stared up at me with panic in his eyes as my fist came down hard on his temple. The force of the blow sent him back onto the ground, cracking his skull on the hard earth.

He blinked hard, trying to hold on to reality, but that wasn't good enough for me. Not by a long shot.

Straddling him, I punched and punched until he didn't move.

Weiss didn't deserve a bullet in his head. He deserved something a lot more special. His fate would be personalized right down to the last detail.

I couldn't wait to see the look on his face.

I found Weiss' car a few hundred meters through the forest, parked on a back road.

Inside I found everything I needed and then some. On the way back, I found the gun in amongst the leaf litter and shoved it into the waistband of my jeans.

I worked swiftly, ignoring the pain in my hands and stood back to survey my handiwork. I had this thing about standards. Meticulous, sordid, particular. Efficient death. Waste not, want not.

I'd bound Weiss' hands behind his back, fixing him and the length of nylon rope to a fallen tree at the side of the clearing. One arm was up over his shoulder, the other below and underneath, fixed together in the middle. His head lolled to the front, knees folded below him like he was praying to some fucked up god.

It was a reminder, and an omen of sorts, that I remembered the most horrific things they'd made me go through. The human mind was beautiful in a way, the things that scarred it and the things it brought to the surface in your time of need.

I remembered the hours of waiting on my knees, trying to gather the courage to let the bone pop from its socket. If I stretched one more inch, I could claim my freedom and my reward.

I knelt in the dirt, the gun hanging in my torn hands, watching as Weiss began to surface into consciousness, waiting for the moment when he'd realize the predicament he was in.

His eyes opened slowly, obviously glassy even in the silvery nighttime glow. I sneered in satisfaction as he slowly realized what had happened to him. The tables had turned a total one-eighty and it felt more satisfying than it should.

How easy it was for me to sever the ties of friendship. The mark of a true monster. Selfish, depraved...

Weiss jerked against the rope, his eyes flashing with understanding. _Yeah, that's right asshole._

"Did you really think it was going to be that easy?" I asked as Weiss struggled against the rope. "Did you think you could just put a gun to my head and pull the trigger? I'm ashamed that you were ever my handler, Weiss. _Pathetic_."

He spat blood onto the ground next to him and glared up at me. "They'll come for you once they realize what you've done, X."

I picked up a hunting knife I'd found in his car and stabbed it into the earth just out of reaching distance of Weiss' grubby fingers. The only way he was getting free was if someone found him, or he dislocated his own shoulder to get out of his restraints. Knowing how much of a pussy he was, the latter would take a very long time.

"It was her, wasn't it?" Weiss asked as I curled my fingers around the muzzle of the gun. "It was Mercy who tried to kill Sykes." I didn't blink as I weighed the gun in my hand. "That's why you've gone fuckin' crazy. You want her, but you have to kill her. It fucked with your head, didn't it?"

"You'll never get to stick your dick in her now, Weiss," I snarled. "Mercy is _mine_."

I raised the gun and smashed the butt down on his temple and he was out like a light. Blood welled to the surface of an impressive cut as Weiss' head lolled to the side. _Asshole_.

Shoving the gun into the waistband of my jeans, I knelt down and went through Weiss' pockets. Pulling out his phone, I checked him for other weapons. Satisfied he wasn't going anywhere any time soon, I switched on his phone and scrolled through the messages. He'd sent one half an hour ago to Greggor that got my blood boiling.

_X is compromised_.

My out was gone a long time ago. My out never existed. It was too late to do anything about toeing the line now anyway. I was in this up to my motherfucking eyeballs.

Taking out the SIM card, I snapped it in two, tossing the useless bits of plastic into the dirt. Then I dropped his phone and smashed the heel of my boot into it, shattering the screen. Then I turned my back on the life I'd known and strode off into the forest, making for the road out of there.

When Royal Blood inevitably found Weiss, they'd come after me and Mercy. Her secret was out now too, which meant there was only one thing left going for us. We had to become ghosts.

Sliding into Weiss' car, I gunned the engine. I had to get to Mercy and figure this thing out before it was too late.

## Chapter 30

# Mercy

_I'm going to end this._

Those were his last words as he left the apartment and it'd been hours. What was he ending? Was he going after Weiss? Was he going to get Sykes to come and take me? I lay on the sofa in X's apartment, listening to the silence, listening for any clue that he was coming back.

I had to have faith in our connection. I had to believe that he felt the same way about me as I did him. I had to believe X was capable of loving.

I curled my knees up into my chest, wrapping my hands around my ankles. What a fucking joke. Teaching a monster how to love.

_God, fuck, Mercy! Have a little faith in yourself._

There were footsteps outside in the hall and I straightened up, my heart skipping several beats. I didn't like feeling helpless, locked in here alone as X faced fuck knew what out there. I knew he could handle it, he'd been doing just that for years before I turned up, but I still didn't like it. I wanted to be there with him to the bitter end. Was that such a bad thing?

The door opened as I placed my feet on the floor and X strode in, slamming it closed behind him. Cold air billowed in with him and I knew something big had gone down. Somehow I thought big wasn't the right word. Huge, ginormous, fucking massive.

X fell heavily against the door, his back pressed against the wood. He was covered in dirt and blood was caked on his face, hands and collar. Short story, he looked like he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards and fought it on the way through.

"What happened to you?" I asked, rising to my feet. "Is Weiss...?"

He glanced up at me and shucked his leather jacket off. It fell to the floor with a dull thud.

He didn't answer me and I began to panic. "X? What did you do?"

"What needed to be done," he said, pushing off the door.

He strode past me down the hall and into the bathroom. I followed, watching him discard items of clothing along the way. I lingered at the bathroom door as he undid the button on his jeans and shoved them off his hips.

Things were obviously dire, but my body still sparked with desire at the sight of him in his boxers. He'd been out fighting, torturing and possibly murdering his best friend and handler...all because of me.

Stepping out of his boxers, X leaned into the shower and turned the taps on. He lingered just outside with his hand underneath the water, testing the temperature as it warmed through the old pipes of the apartment building. He knew I was there, but he didn't make a move or glanced at me, even when I stepped into the room behind him and stripped out of his T-shirt.

Sometimes you just knew, on some unconscious level, when someone needed you. We had this connection that seemed to transcend mere talking. I knew what he needed, he knew what I wanted and that's all that mattered. Right now, he'd been out doing his dark thing and he needed comfort. He could deny it all he wanted, but I knew better.

As he stepped into the shower, the water soaking his hair, I slid in beside him, reaching for the soap. He raised a hand to grab my wrist, but I pulled away. I stared at the grazes along his hands and my gaze met his. He was torn up.

"Let me," I murmured.

Washing the grit from his hands, I massaged his skin, working the soap against each tiny cut, treating him like he was sacred. Once his hands were taken care of, I tracked the soap across his chest, tracing the outline of his tattoo and his eyes drooped closed. If it stung, he never let on and didn't try and pull away.

Lathering the soap against his skin, I slid my hand over his neck, washing the blood away. As I reached his face, my movements became softer as I cleaned the dirt and grime out of a new cut on his temple. It'd been a bleeder and I wondered if Weiss had tried to knock him out with something. Maybe he hadn't tried...

"What happened?" I asked, probing the cut with my fingers.

X hissed, pulling away from my touch. "It's just a cut."

"It's not-"

I choked on my protest as his lips met mine. Sucking on my bottom lip, he pulled my body against his in an attempt to silence me. Tearing my lips away, I dug my fingers into his shoulders, the soap dropping to the bottom of the shower.

"What happened to you tonight, X?" I murmured as he began biting and sucking at my neck.

He ignored my question and continued teasing my skin with his tongue, tracking his hands from my waist to my ass.

" _X_."

"I haven't decided what to do with you," he murmured from someplace far away, licking at the water that had beaded on my shoulder.

Digging my fingers harder into his skin in an attempt to bring him back, I said, "You've already made your decision, X."

His gaze met mine and it was hesitant, like he was thinking over a million and one things to come to one simple conclusion.

Stepping out of the shower, I pulled a towel from the rack and held it up. "Come on," I coaxed. "You can't stay in there all night."

He turned off the taps and the room fell into silence as he stepped from the shower and into the waiting towel.

"Keep her or kill her," he murmured and I cocked my head to the side.

"Keep her," I whispered and his gaze rose to meet mine and it was full of emotion. Pain, exhaustion, longing... I was right to have faith.

I rubbed his crotch through the towel and pressed my breasts into his chest. He flexed into my hand once before letting his lips drop to the crook of my neck. He began sucking and biting at my skin, his cock growing harder as my pussy began to flare.

"Take me to bed," I whispered, letting the towel drop to the floor.

"You want to go to bed?" he whispered, nipping his teeth at my bottom lip.

I nodded, rolling my hips forward, my clit rubbing against his cock. "Let me care for you."

X took a deep breath before fisting his hands into my damp hair. He walked me backwards out of the bathroom with deliberate steps, his chest heaving with a sudden spike of desire. I knew that look in his eyes, that dark look that warned me to hold on for dear life. I was about to be thoroughly _fucked_.

As we entered the bedroom, his mouth came down on mine, his tongue swiping through my mouth greedily. I opened up to him, allowing him to take what he needed and I had a wicked thought.

He gave me control once before, perhaps he would do it again.

I placed my palm against his chest and pushed him hard. He fell back onto the bed, an annoyed gleam in his eyes, but his breath caught as I crawled over the edge of the mattress and straddled his waist. Covering his body with mine, his hands clamped down on my ass, spreading me open. Then his cock was sliding between my ass cheeks, his fingertips playing with my puckered opening.

"Do that again," I murmured against his lips.

"Do what?" he asked, pressing a finger into my ass.

I gasped, my body tensing, but unlike the first time he went for that forbidden place, I didn't jerk away.

"You like that?" he murmured, a piece of X the alpha male that had taken me over Weiss' desk coming back to the surface.

I nodded, biting on my bottom lip. "Soon," I panted as he increased the friction against my clit from underneath, "I will let you claim it with your cock."

X let out a moan, pumping his dick between my ass cheeks harder. "Soon?"

"Soon...but first I want to claim you."

X's gaze fixed on mine. "You already have."

"Not quite," I said through a heavy breath.

Pulling away, I raised my pussy over his cock, circling my fingers around him and guided the head towards my opening. Reaching up, he palmed my breasts as I slid down his length, taking him as deep as I could. It was my turn to control our fucking. It was my turn to _claim_.

I raised myself off him, feeling him slide out of me before he thrust up to meet me. Shaking my head at him, I whispered, "Let me take care of you."

His hips settled back onto the mattress beneath me as I began riding him. Slowly at first, but before long, I felt heat prickle my skin as an orgasm began building in my core. His gaze rested on my breasts as they rose and fell with my movements and I felt powerful. I had this dangerous, handsome, strong-willed man underneath me and I rode him hard. I rode him as he moaned and pulsed inside my pussy...he was responding to _me_.

As if he couldn't take it anymore, he sat up, latching his mouth onto one of my breasts, licking and sucking. Pleasure spiked through my nerve endings as I pounded my clit into his pelvis.

"You brought me back to life," I said with a moan as I slid down his cock. "You give me hope." X's hands bit into my hips as I rode him, his lips hard against the breast he'd marked with his teeth. "You give me what I need."

"And what's that?" he asked, grunting as he flexed up to meet my thrust.

"Pleasure, satisfaction, revenge..." I buried my fingers into his hair and tugged, raising his face to mine. " _Pain_..."

His gaze met mine and I didn't understand the emotion I saw behind his eyes, but he stared right through me and into my soul. He got it, _he fucking got it_ , and that was all the answer I needed.

With one swift movement, X had me on my back, his cock filling my pussy. Resting his forehead against mine, he pulled out to the tip and filled me again, pressing hard against my clit. He didn't move to bury his face into the crook of my neck, he didn't close his eyes, he held firm as he pumped his cock into me.

For the first time since we'd started this thing, he looked at me while we fucked. He looked me right in the eye as we both came in tandem. He gave me the one thing he'd denied me all this time.

He gave me a connection and I knew that we were finally in this together.

He'd allowed me to _claim him_.

## Chapter 31

# X

I'd held Mercy Reid after sex one time before.

I was a different man then, cold and unfeeling... I was different now and I was sure I would be something else tomorrow.

I knew that I was made into a monster and that I wasn't born this way. I dreamed often about a dark room, unbearable pain and the man in the hood that I shot in cold blood. I always suspected that it wasn't a dream, and some part of me understood that it was a reality too terrible to fully comprehend. Now that Mercy had opened up the floodgates and emotions were rushing in, I began to wonder if I had a family someplace. If they were looking for me, or if they thought I was dead. I wondered who I was before.

And that might be the most dangerous piece in this game we were about to play.

Mercy stirred beside me, her hand running over my stomach, tracing the scars that were latticed through my tattoo. Scars I knew that they put there.

"They know I have you," I murmured.

She brushed her lips against my chest. "So we leave. Regroup."

She said it without hesitation and it was the proof I was searching for all this time. She wasn't afraid of me anymore. She was completely and utterly with me until the end. I was hers and she was mine. It was the most alien sensation in the world, caring for another human being.

I tilted her chin up and caught her lips against mine, teasing them apart with my tongue. She sighed into me, licking deep and I lost myself in her taste and in the promise of something else, something unknown.

"We should go straight away," she whispered against my mouth.

She was guiding me, knowing that I was lost, that my mind was elsewhere. It was my mind that was regrouping, not us.

I nodded, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Weiss got free. I should've killed him, but he was the only way of finding out exactly what had happened to me.

He knew something, but it was more than that. When I was coming to, out in the forest, a memory had tried to resurface through the haze, trying to force itself out of my subconscious. Weiss had been there.

"Sykes will come looking in a few hours," I said. "We have to strip the apartment."

We had to clear out the closet and pack some clothes. There wasn't enough time to get rid of everything. Usually, I'd clean the entire place down to the bare bones. Scrub the bathroom with bleach. Wipe the place clear of prints. There was no time to do any of that. This time it was just take the essentials and go. I just had to be careful about the things I touched in the future. Maybe I could burn the prints from my fingers...

"Okay."

I doubted she knew what I meant, but I'd teach her. She wanted to know.

"What happened to you tonight?" she asked.

"Weiss tried to kill me," I said blandly.

Mercy propped herself up on an elbow. "What?"

"I left him out in the middle of the forest," I went on.

"He's still alive?"

I nodded. "I couldn't do it. He knows things about me..."

"I gathered as much," she said. "He was your-"

"Handler," I finished for her.

"We'll find out what happened to you X," Mercy said, sitting up. "We'll both get what we want, one way or another." I watched as she stood and began rummaging around in her bag, pulling out clothes.

Sliding out of bed, I dragged on a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. "You really want to run with me?"

"Yes."

"What if I snap again Mercy? What if I turn and kill you? What then?"

"I don't know," she said and I snorted. "X, I don't know, but I'm willing to try. At least that's something."

I ran my hands over my face. "Still willing to try after I've hurt you so much? It's a dangerous game you're playing."

"It's not a game," she said sullenly. "It goes both ways you know."

"I'm a monster," I said, sliding my legs into a fresh pair of jeans. "I've done too much to go back."

"Maybe," she said, not sugar coating it in the slightest. "But who says that you're right? How do you know?"

I snorted, glancing away. I didn't know shit anymore, so maybe she was right. Striding from the bedroom, I went out into the lounge and dragged on my boots before opening the refrigerator and pulling out a beer.

She had so much faith in me...so much misplaced faith. Sinking down onto the sofa, I necked the bottle, the cold beer sliding down the back of my throat.

The sordid story of Mercy's dead family was still plastered to my lounge room wall and I wondered why she hadn't taken it down. Did she need a reminder of what she was fighting for? I sure as fuck needed one.

"We can still get our revenge." Her voice came out of nowhere as she sat beside me. She already had the ghost thing down. She'd fucking need it if we were going to win this game.

I paused, holding my breath as I stared at the photographs of her dead family stuck to the wall. Revenge...how could I seek revenge when I could hardly grasp what I was seeking revenge for?

I felt Mercy's hand as she slid it across my thigh and jerked away, standing to my full height. How could I seek revenge when there were still reminders of who she was plastered on my living room wall?

Coming alive, I strode across the room and began tearing at the photos, ripping newspaper clippings from the wall and tearing drawing pins from the plaster. I teared at them like I was stripping pieces of flesh from my bones, my breath coming in ragged gasps. And she said she was willing to try when I was going full on crazy.

I stilled as I felt hands on my back, hands that trailed across my waist and circled around to my stomach. Then her body was against mine as she held onto me.

"X?" she murmured, resting her cheek against my back.

I grunted, my forehead pressing against the plaster.

"I'm not her anymore. I haven't been for a while now, but I still want to right the wrong that was done to her."

"She's always going to be a part of you," I murmured, my fingers curling around the last photograph that was stuck to the wall. The same photo of Alison Crawford whose hair I'd colored in with a black marker.

"I know, but that's the past. It's done. Over. The future we can change."

We...her and I. She was so hell bent on it that it made me wonder if it was fear for her safety that made me want to leave her behind. Caring for someone else. _Fuck_.

If I went dark on my own, I knew I wouldn't get through it without giving up the last of my soul. I would be a real monster when all was said and done. Inhuman.

Turning, I held her to me, searching her blue eyes. I needed her with me. _We_ had to go. Because without her? I'd still be sitting in the darkness, letting the monster devour what was left of my soul.

Mercy Reid was my missing piece. She filled the void where my heart should be.

Cupping her face in my hands, she stared up at me with glassy eyes.

Lowering my lips to hers, I murmured, "Let's go."

## Chapter 32

# Mercy

I stood in the parking garage underneath X's apartment and watched as he screwed in new number plates on his car. I glanced at the empty spot where his motorcycle used to be, frowning at the knowledge that he was going to leave it behind.

He said it was still parked out the front of The Gambler's Inn and there was no point in going back for it. I wasn't sure how attached he was to it, but it was a damn shame.

X threw the screwdriver into the boot of the car, where a choice selection from his closet of horrors was stashed. A pile of weapons including that fancy sniper rifle I'd wondered about. Maybe he'd teach me how to use it after all.

Staring at the car, I bit my lip. It really was a nice piece of machinery. It was this black, vintage muscle car, sexy as all hell and it suited him down to the ground. X had a flair about him that was so anti-biker gang it made me wonder who he was before.

"Are you ready?" X asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I nodded and opened the passenger side door. There was nothing to look back on, nothing but forward from here on out.

I slid into the car as X climbed into the driver's seat and gunned the engine. He backed out of the space, shifted the stick into first and we shot out onto the road and into the early morning light. The sky was starting to lighten, a smudge of orange dusting the handful of clouds that hung amongst the stars. It was going to be a perfect day. Sunny, warm and heavy with the promise of something new.

The car weaved through the centuries old buildings as we crossed the city, flashing past monuments and museums, crossing the river and heading out of the smog and into the countryside. I watched the sunrise with a new sense of hope, a new purpose and a new mission. The sky was flaming orange and red and to my heart, it felt like an omen for what was to come.

_Rivers of blood_.

I glanced over at X, trying to read his expression in the dawn light, wondering what he was thinking. Wondering if he had the same hope, or if he was just thinking of something that was on a stiff, regimental list of things that he had to do. Maybe, but most of all...I wondered if his heart was still open.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked after a while.

His gaze met mine briefly, before turning back to watch the road. "Yes."

"That sniper rifle... Will you teach me how to use it?"

His jaw stiffened, but he nodded. "I'll teach you."

"Okay."

He glanced at me again, his eyes flashing with something I couldn't quite catch. "I'll teach you whatever you want."

_Whatever I want_. The thought sent a shiver through my entire body.

It felt like an age since that first night at The Gambler's Inn when he'd walked in and called me a bitch. Now, I was a different person again. And before that, the night I stood in Sykes' house, gun in hand...and even before that when I stood in my family home staring down at the bodies of my parents and brother... Mercy Reid had evolved so much in such a short amount of time. Who would she be tomorrow? Master assassin?

Maybe.

But maybe it would be as simple as being happy. Happy with X. That was a future to look forward to, but first there were some scores to settle.

"Where are we going?" I asked, eager to get the groundwork of our master plan into place.

X glanced at me, before fixing his gaze on the road ahead. "Someplace where they won't find us."

"Then what?"

His fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "We figure this thing out."

I reached over and slid a hand across his thigh, his warmth soothing my cool skin. "And we figure out what they did to you."

He let his hand drop to cover mine, the small gesture making my entire body shiver. He was already learning and my heart swelled with pride.

"Then," he said, lacing his fingers through mine, "we come back and kill them all."
**Other Books in the Royal Blood Series...**

_**The series is complete!**_

Xavier 'X' Blood is a hitman for motorcycle club, Royal Blood. When he meets Mercy Reid, things begin to unravel in the worst way possible. Will Mercy's love be enough to save him?

**Royal Blood #1**

**Bad Blood #2**

**Blood Rites #3**

**Devil's Blood #4**

**Love Like Blood #5**

**Blood and Bone #6**

**Keep reading for a sneak peek at Bad Blood (Royal Blood #2)!**
**ABOUT THE AUTHOR**

**AMITY CROSS** is the author of wicked stories about rock stars looking for redemption, gritty romances featuring MMA fighters and dark tales of forbidden romance. She loves to write about alpha males and the strong women who challenge them to fall in love.

* * *

**FIND OUT MORE:**

www.amitycrosswrites.com

# Bad Blood (Royal Blood #2)

### A Sneak Peek...

**CHAPTER ONE - MERCY**

The sun rose through the orange sky, burning with all the things that lay before us.

X drove for hours, with me in the passenger seat, without saying a word about where we were going. We left the city behind in its chaos, the streets dripping with the promise of blood and secrets laid bare... We left it all deep in the urban sprawl and ventured out into the countryside.

Our plan was...we had no plan. We would figure that out once we had a place to rest and regroup. Then and only then, would we plan murder. Not only murder, _revenge_.

It was a long time coming.

X stopped once to fill up the emptying tank of his muscle car, ordering me to stay put while he kept his head low and darted inside to pay with cash. I was already on the run, but this time was different. My identity, which I'd worked so hard to conceal, was common knowledge. Or at least, it was about to be.

X had left Weiss tied up in the middle of the forest only hours ago and still very much alive. I'd never had anything to fear from my ex-boss of twelve hours, but now I had every reason to flee. He knew my real name, he knew what I'd done...Weiss had been X's handler and was rotten through and through. He'd never been my friend.

He'd never been X's, either.

X had rebelled and for his trouble, Weiss had dragged him out into the middle of nowhere and planned to put a bullet in his head. X had fought back and left his handler tied up in his place, sans bullet. X said he knew things about his past, things that would tell him where he'd come from before. Leaving Weiss alive was important.

I wasn't sure what that meant for me, but I trusted X... I had to trust him. It was more than the feelings he stirred up inside my body. He drove me mad in an animalistic sexual way, but it was more...deeper in my heart. Whatever, or whoever Xavier Blood was...there were parts of him that were snaking into my soul and clawing deep. That was something I couldn't turn away from.

X slid back into the car, slamming the door closed and breaking my train of thought.

"Are you okay?" he asked, glancing at me.

A few hours ago, that question would've been left field for a guy like X. Now, it was something that would happen more and more as he came back to himself.

I shifted in the passenger seat of the car, wrapping my fingers around the seatbelt across my chest. "Do you think he got away?"

"Who?"

"Weiss."

X narrowed his eyes, gunned the engine and put the car into gear. "Weiss is a coward. There's a good chance he's still there." He snorted and pulled the car out of the service station. "I can't see him gathering the courage to dislocate his shoulder. There was a reason he was behind a desk."

"But..." He'd killed those Necromancers that had attempted to take me without a second thought. He'd tried to kill X once he realized he'd switched allegiances...

"He was my handler for eight years, Mercy." His hands tightened around the steering wheel. "I know the inner workings of that man's mind."

I turned my attention back to the road, where we were merging onto the motorway. I wasn't so sure he really knew Weiss, but I wasn't about to tell X that. There were a lot of things that weren't adding up. X had been conditioned to forget who he really was, they'd turned him into a killing machine and he'd only just found out that he was going to be taken out back and shot once he'd delivered me to Sykes.

Sykes...the man who'd killed my entire family and the man I'd almost put a bullet in while he slept. Except I choked at the last second and was almost caught. If I hadn't of been such a coward, where would we be right now?

I sucked in a deep breath, my skin crawling.

"Are you okay?" X asked again.

"I will be." I smiled up at him, but from the look on his face he didn't seem convinced.

"We have to work on your ability to lie, Mercy," he said blandly.

I narrowed my eyes. "How much further?"

"A few miles." His voice was thin and I couldn't blame him for being annoyed. It'd been one hell of a week.

Turning my attention to the scenery outside my window, I let my mind wander. I had no idea where X was taking me, only that it was someplace far away. Maybe that should've worried me, but I knew without a doubt that my end wouldn't come by the hands of X. He was the last person in the world who would try to kill me. He'd tried and failed, our mysterious connection saving both of us. Still, he wouldn't tell me where we were going. I guess I just had to wait and see.

Despite wanting to stay awake so I could track our whereabouts, I drifted off to sleep. I dreamed fitful images of blood and it wasn't until a wheel of the car sunk in and out of a pothole with a loud crunch, that I woke.

We were driving along a gravel road with trees and rolling hills spread on either side, horizon to horizon.

"Where are we?" I asked, looking for a distinguishing landmark, but not finding any.

"Someplace safe," X replied.

* * *

**Bad Blood (Royal Blood #2) is OUT NOW**
**OTHER SERIES BY AMITY CROSS**

****ALL SERIES ARE COMPLETE!****

* * *

_**Book One** in many of these series are **FREE** or exclusive to certain retailers, so please click through to check!_

**ROCK STAR AFFLICTION** follows the story of rock star Jake West and fiery 'wildcat' Blair Hayden. Come with them on a whirlwind European tour and find out if they fall in love or crash and burn.

**Unexpected #1**

**Unexplainable #2**

**Unintended #3**

**Undeniable #4**

**Unbearable #5**

**Unstoppable #6**

**ROYAL BLOOD:** Xavier 'X' Blood is a hitman for motorcycle club, Royal Blood. When he meets Mercy Reid, things begin to unravel in the worst way possible. Will Mercy's love be enough to save him?

**Royal Blood #1**

**Bad Blood #2**

**Blood Rites #3**

**Devil's Blood #4**

**Love Like Blood #5**

**Blood and Bone #6**

**ROCK STAR HEARTS** follows the tumultuous romance of small town woman Juniper Rowe and bad boy rock star Sebastian Hale.

Will love conquer all? Or will the price of fame be too hot to handle?

**Whole Lotta Love #1**

**Whole Lotta Lust #2**

**Whole Lotta Sin #3**

**Whole Lotta Heart #4**

**FORTITUDE MC** is a fast paced MC romance that will have you on the edge of your seat.

It contains all the gritty love, action, thrills and hot sexy times you expect from an Amity Cross novel... _and then some_.

**Ride Hard #1**

**Ride Long #2**

**Ride Forever #3**

**THE BEAT AND THE PULSE** is an Australian MMA Fighter romance series that's full of grit, glory and love!

Follow the men and women of Beat and Pulse as they fight for love... in and out of the cage.

**It's time to fight for the broken hearted.**

**Beat #1**

**Pulse #2**

**Crash #3**

**Spike #4**

**Rebel #4.5**

**Steel #5**

**Flow #6**

**Surge #7**

**Quake #8**

**Rush #9**

**Strike #10**

**Ignite #11**

**STAND ALONE ROMANCE:** Quirky writer Lux doesn't expect a comic convention to turn her life upside down. But that's exactly what happens when she gets stuck in an elevator with the hottest ticket in town, actor Jude Atwood... A fun, steamy read!

**L is for Luminous**

**THE DEVIL'S TATTOO ROCK STARS!**

When **Zoe Granger** started playing guitar to get over her heartbreak, she never thought that her band would hit it big. Now she's on the road with indie legend **Will Strickland** —who can't keep his eyes off her. Can she trust a rock star with her heart?

**The Devil's Tattoo #1**

**The Fire Walker #2**

**THE THORNFIELD AFFAIR** is a modern reimagining of Charlotte Brontë's classic Jane Eyre.

Orphaned as an infant, **Jane Doe** has nothing, but desires everything life has to offer.

When she's offered work at Thornfield, a grand English manor turned hotel, she meets her match in the dark and brooding proprietor, **Edward Rochester**.

**Euphoria #1**

**Paradox #2**

**Zenith #3**

