Assassin Territory [Assassins Book 1] Read online

  “You’re home,” Christy said, happily turning in his arms to embrace him.

  Lando chuckled, holding her close. “I told you I wouldn’t be away long.”

  “Even an hour is too long without you. Where did you go?” Christy asked. Very rarely did Lando leave her unattended.

  “I needed to pick up a baby gift and I’ll bet you’ll never guess who it’s from.” Secretively, Lando took Christy by the hand and led her to the large kitchen.

  Christy squealed delightedly when she saw a fat grey puppy waddling about the floor. Lando scooped the pup up and with grandeur handed it to her. Christy ran her cheek over soft, fuzzy fur while it licked her face.

  “Oh, she’s so cute,” Christy exclaimed. “What’s her name?”

  “He doesn’t have a name yet,” Lando replied. The puppy gave a huge yawn and settled into Christy’s arms while she scratched behind his ears.

  “What kind of dog is he? He looks like a wolf,” Christy said, studying the puppy.

  “That’s because he is a wolf,” Lando said. Christy took a deep breath. She continued to rub at the at the pup’s soft fur.

  “I suppose Wolf wouldn’t like it much if we named it after him,” Christy mused.

  She immediately knew where the pup had come from. That Wolf had been able to find them was a bit unnerving, yet she wasn’t afraid of Wolf. She’d helped Lando take care of Wolf for an entire month while nursing him back to health.

  Amusingly, Christy noted Lando had become quite adept at saving lives. He expressed compassion and sympathy for Wolf’s helpless state. Wolf refused to see a doctor, realizing lines were still being drawn in his world of controlling dynasties, and he preferred to stay in hiding with them. Wolf said he could be added protection for Christy while Lando went out to tie up loose ends and plan.

  Christy felt it was she and Lando who’d been protecting Wolf in his weakened state. She knew their secret was safe with him. She was sad when they separated. Christy felt as though a member of her family were leaving. Wolf had kissed her forehead tenderly and joked with her that he was proud her culinary skills improved. Embarrassed, Christy remembered both men had given her instructions in the kitchen. In her defense, she argued she’d never been taught to cook; her family always hired help.

  Christy had been confused, though, when Lando tried to pay Wolf. Wolf gazed at Lando with deep meaning. Then just as quickly he wore the impassive expression that unnerved Christy. Wolf informed Lando he wanted the debt returned if he ever needed it. Blood for blood. Lando simply nodded in understanding. If Wolf needed a loved one protected, Lando would protect as if that person belonged to him. The two men clasped arms in a powerful grip.

  “I’ve never owned a pet before,” Lando said, and with care took the pup into his large hands. “Then again, I’ve never had a wife before, or a baby on the way.”

  Christy knew there were a great many things she’d given him. He started out saving her life, yet she saved his. Lando told her he never realized how lonely he’d been until she came along. She gave him purpose.

  “What about Bullet?” Lando asked. He rubbed on the pup’s fluffy head.

  “What about Sam?”

  Thoughtfully, Lando gazed at Christy. “Sam is a perfect name.”

  Christy smiled. She reached out to caress one of Lando’s arms. Their new life had been easy to become accustomed to. Neither was leaving anyone of importance behind. All of their loose ends were tied. Christy loved their chalet out in the middle of nowhere. She didn’t miss the companionship of others. Right now, all she wanted was Lando. Christy knew when the baby came, their lives would change. Perhaps by the time the baby was school age she would’ve healed enough to want to be around other people again; though, she would always be wary.

  The hardest part for Christy had been giving up photography. She loved to take pictures, but in her rounded state she found it hard to crouch and duck for the best shots. Lando produced a camera for her. He left bags of apples near the porch to entice moose, deer, and other wildlife. Christy snapped shots, each click pure joy, developing them in the darkroom Lando made, until she realized no one but she and Lando would ever see them. Her photography career was finished. She thought of another idea, and wondered how receptive Lando would be.

  “Lando?”

  Lando put the wolf pup on one end of the large, over-stuffed couch amidst a large quilt, and, gathering Christy to him, he settled her on his lap at the other end.

  “What is it, kitten?” Lando asked. Christy breathed out audibly, somewhat annoyed. Wolf used the name so often in front of Lando, he decided he liked the nickname. Christy rolled her eyes at him in irritation while he chuckled. She centered on an important thought.

  “I was wondering how you would feel if I were to write a book,” Christy said somewhat hesitantly.

  “About what?”

  “About what happened to us.”

  “Christy…” Lando began, but she interrupted him.

  “Please, I’d change all the names. I can be very vague about the area we crashed in. I could write under a pseudonym. If a publisher even wanted to see the story we could get a post office box, no one would ever know we existed or were real.”

  “You’ve been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?”

  “I think people need to understand they shouldn’t be afraid to love under any circumstance, whether or not they’re scared. When they want to give up, they just need to hang on a little longer. They need to hold onto something or maybe even someone. You taught me that. Thank you for teaching me to love again.”

  “Thank you for teaching me to love,” Lando countered. He ran a thumb across her jaw line.

  “Please, let me write our story.”

  Lando sighed. She could see him relent. As always, her begging struck a chord. “All right, but I get to read it first and you can’t get mad if I read over your shoulder, or add things, or remove things. I also don’t want you portraying people in my old profession as just mindless, robotic killing machines like they do on TV. Remember, we also eat and breathe, and sometimes love and care for people. And I don’t want you to give me some goofy nickname, either.”

  “Speaking of names, I thought of one for the baby, since we know it will be a boy.”

  “And?”

  “What do you think of the name Logan?” Christy asked while playing with the exposed hair on his chest.

  “I think you’re playing with fire, kitten,” Lando said, stilling her hands, though he gazed at her with tenderness. Christy snuggled up to his broad chest, smiling with contentment, knowing he was pleased.

  I think Logan is a perfect name, a voice said in Christy’s head. She concurred wholeheartedly.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  C. L. Scholey

  Please call me Connie! It’s been fantastic working with great publishers and following my dream of writing. When I’m not writing, I’m busy looking after my children, husband, grandkids and the family pet, our newest addition, a mastiff pup named Aramis, after the Three Musketeers.

  I’m currently working on way too much, as normal, but I love every second of it. Please feel free to contact me at [email protected]. Look me up on my web page www.clscholey.com or join me on Twitter and Facebook. I look forward to hearing from you.

  For your reading pleasure, we invite you to visit our web bookstore

  TORRID BOOKS

  www.torridbooks.com

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16


  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  About the Author