Chapter One

A woman knew when she was being hunted. And as Luna Black hurried through the busy New Orleans Street, ducking her head against the surprisingly sharp bite of the wind that blew up from the mighty Mississippi River, she had no doubt that she was the prey…and a very, very dangerous predator stalked her through the night.

I can get away. I’ve gotten away before. I’ll get away again. And then, tomorrow, I’ll meet up with the Feds. I’ll tell them everything. They’ll give me a deal. They’ll protect me. Goodbye, old life. Goodbye, terror.

Hello, new me.

She’d get a new name. A new home. Some desperately needed safety. Because for the last few weeks, Luna had been running on fumes and fear. Those two things could only sustain a woman so long. She’d gotten all the way from Atlanta, Georgia, down to the Big Easy. Since arriving in New Orleans, she’d been crashing at a friend’s place. A friend who was out of the country and didn’t exactly know that Luna was using her home. She’d crashed and tried to plot and plan and figure out a way to escape from the nightmare that held her in its grip only…

Shadows detached from the nearby building as Luna turned toward Jackson Square. Those shadows didn’t make a sound, but Luna had the terrible feeling that they’d been waiting there just for her. Watching.

She swallowed and pulled the oversized black jacket that she wore even closer to her body. Her long, dark hair was shoved under the hood of the jacket, but a stubborn tendril escaped to blow across her cheek. Her head remained facing the front as she continued her determined steps. Jackson Square was locked down for the night, so she edged around its exterior. Her steps might have accelerated as she made her way toward the old alleyway to the left of the St. Louis Cathedral.

Hurry, hurry, hurry. She had to get out of there. She had to get⁠—

She ran right into a giant, immovable object. An object that had not been there moments before. An object that had also detached from the darkness and stepped right into her path.

Sucking in a breath, she tried to take a step back, but it was too late. He’d already caught her. The immovable object—a big, muscled man wearing what appeared to be an extremely expensive suit—locked his hands around her arms. Not a tight grip. In fact, one that was oddly careful. And unbreakable.

“Sorry,” he said, though he didn’t actually sound apologetic. “Did I scare you?”

Yes. A thousand times, yes. “Let go of me.”

The faint light from a flickering streetlamp fell onto him. Shadows surrounded him, but she could make out the firm line of his jaw—a jaw covered by the dark graze of a beard. His thick hair brushed back from his high forehead, and the top buttons on his white, dress shirt were undone. He had her in height by way too many inches and way too many pounds in body weight and strength. Physically, he was dominant and scary, and Luna knew trouble when it grabbed her. She shoved her hand into her crossbody bag to snag her taser because if the stranger didn’t release her in the next three seconds, he was going to get the shock of his life.

One.

Two.

Th—

He let her go. “You’ve got company.” He glanced over her left shoulder. “You familiar with them?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

“The three guys who followed you after you left Café du Monde. They’re watching you from the shadows right now. I’m worried they intend to harm you. Thought you could use a hero, so I stepped in.”

She didn’t want to take her eyes off him in order to look over her shoulder. He seemed like the big, bad threat but… “Is that what you are, a hero?”

He smiled. Or at least, she thought that he smiled. In the dim light, it was hard to tell for sure. “Is that what you want me to be?”

She weighed her options. And, dammit, Luna also peeked over her shoulder. Very, very quickly. Yes, crap. Three men were looming in the shadows. My time is up. They’d tracked her, and if she wasn’t both careful and lucky, there would be no way she’d live to make that eight a.m. appointment with the Feds in the morning.

Her head whipped back to the front, and she made an instant decision. One is better than three. Because if push came to shove, surely, she could take out this fancy-dressed stranger in front of her, right? Granted, he was big. Very big. And his shoulders definitely stretched the black suit he wore, but he was just one man. One versus three. I’ll take my odds against one man, thank you.

Her taser would work on him. She could tase him and run away.

But if she fell into the hands of the three men lurking close by…

No way can I take out three guys at once. I’d be done for.

“I definitely want you to be a hero,” Luna spoke crisply as she grabbed him. Looped her arm with his. Got way, way close to him. “Act like you know me.”

“Excuse me?”

“Act like we’re super in love, that you were waiting for me, and that you just can’t bear to let me go.” The words fired out far too quickly.

“Yes, ma’am.” Inclining his head, he pulled her even closer. “I think I can handle that.” His voice was deep and rumbly and warm, and it chased away the chill that wanted to wrap so tightly around her and pull her under until she couldn’t breathe. Until she was absolutely frozen in ice.

Nope. Keep breathing. Keep moving. Keep fighting. Hadn’t that been her mantra ever since that terrible day in Atlanta?

“And let’s walk,” she urged him. “Fast.” Walk, run, whatever got them out of there.

He laughed, like she was playing some great game. She wasn’t. She was running for her life, and the stranger in the dark was an answer to a prayer.

Her stranger asked, “Do we have a destination?”

That voice of his…sex and darkness. If she hadn’t been so very scared, she might have melted. But, nope. She was scared. She was on the run. She was trying to stay alive. No melting allowed.

“St. Peter Street. Let’s hit the bars there.” Total lie. She did not intend to hit any bars. But her current safe house was close to St. Peter Street, so if she could get there, she’d escape her tall, dark savior and live to fight and scheme another day.

Oh, how she very much wanted to live to fight and scheme another day.

You show up at the wrong place at the wrong time…and suddenly, your life is over.

Tears wanted to sting her eyes, but she blinked them away. No pity parties were allowed. Hadn’t she made that rule when she packed up her belongings in Atlanta and raced from the city? That had been after the first attempt on her life.

Her mistake had been thinking the cops in Atlanta could help. Correction, one of her many mistakes. But they hadn’t believed her—or at least, that was what she’d initially thought. Only to discover they were in bed with the devil. They sold me out. Watched me. Had me hunted.

And the first attack on her life had come in the darkness. But she’d been lucky that night. Luna had escaped with a deep slice on her shoulder that she’d had stitched up in Montgomery, Alabama, by a local vet, of all things. The stitches were gone now, she had a wonky scar as a souvenir, but she was still alive. Lucky.

“You want to hit the bars?” Her savior seemed mildly surprised by her request. “I told you that I thought the men behind you intended you harm. Wouldn’t you rather go to the cops?”

Those men one hundred percent intended to harm her. “Cops can’t help.” She’d tried that route and failed. Her hopes were resting on the Feds. Or, rather, on one Fed in particular. One man she thought could be trusted to save her ass. Hopefully. If she was wrong about him, she’d be dead.

“Helping is basically their job.” Mild.

She kept her grip on his arm. “Maybe the men watching just wanted to steal my bag. But then big, bad you appeared. I bet you ran them off.”

“I didn’t run them off. They are following right behind us.”

Dammit. When she strained, Luna could hear the faint pad of their steps.

But, up ahead, she could also see more lights. More people. That was the great thing about New Orleans. There were always people close by. One street might appear empty and dark, but if you just turned the corner…

Life waits.

And, sure enough, when they reached the corner and turned, she saw a slew of people sliding in and out of the restaurants and bars. A big crowd. Her breath heaved out in a relieved rush.

She started to pull away from her stranger.

“Come now, you don’t actually think you’ll get away from me that easily?” He angled toward her. Blocked her path.

Her heart kicked hard in her chest.

“Don’t I at least get a name before you disappear into the night? That is your intent, isn’t it? Now that I’ve walked you safely through the dark, you want to vanish on me.”

If only he really could walk her through the darkness, then maybe she wouldn’t be so afraid all of the time. But she was afraid. And this stranger had helped—briefly—but there was no way she’d pull him or any other civilians into the madness that was her current life. Still, a name wasn’t so much to give in return for the help he’d provided. “Luna.”

“Luna.” He seemed to taste her name.

She wished that she could see him better. “Do you have a hobby of playing hero? Saving women in distress?” Why wasn’t she leaving? Why did she linger with him? His scent wrapped around her. Sandalwood. His warmth pulled at her. She found herself leaning toward him.

“No.” A shake of his head. “I’m not really in the business of saving.”

“Oh? Then what is your business?”

He let her go.

She started to back away.

But he leaned in toward her. His hand rose and his fingers—slightly callused—pressed lightly to her cheek. His touch made her feel odd. A skittering tension slid through her. She’d noticed it the first time he’d touched her, but she’d attributed it to fear at the time.

Now, she realized that maybe…maybe that intense tension was attraction. Maybe she was attracted to the tall, dark stranger who’d saved her when no one else had⁠—

“I’m in the business of death,” he told her.

Her breath froze in her throat. “That’s not funny.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” His fingers slid down her cheek. Curled under her chin. “You had to know that you couldn’t run forever, Luna Black.”

He knows my last name.

No. No, no, no. Not him. Not the stranger in the dark. Not the one, tiny spot of goodness that she thought she’d found in this nightmare. She’d even had to give the vet a grand in order to stitch her up. Nearly all of her cash, but she hadn’t been able to go to a hospital and…

“Why couldn’t you be the good guy?” Luna asked softly, sadly.

His thumb brushed over her lips. “Because that would be far too boring.”

Her hand slid toward the front of her bag once again. She had to get that taser. “You’re here to kill me?” A crowd was close by. She could scream for help. Maybe they’d help. Maybe they’d ignore her. Hard to say with people.

“I can have you dead in my arms long before anyone hears any scream you might ever make.”

Okay, that was terrifying. Soul chilling. And⁠—

She yanked the taser out of her bag. She aimed it toward his stomach, but he moved wicked, wicked fast and knocked the taser out of her hand. His attack was jarring. Her whole hand seemed to go numb for a moment because of whatever he’d just done to her. The taser bounced toward the pavement. Utterly useless. Luna didn’t waste time screaming. She’d read a story once about how people ignored screams—seriously ignored them unless you were yelling “Fire!” or something like that—and, by the time she screamed, like the jerk had just told her…she’d probably already be dead. Not like it took a lot of time to slit a person’s throat.

So instead of screaming, she just rammed her booted foot into his shin as hard as she could. He didn’t grunt or make any sound. He let her go, almost as if…as if he was curious to see what she would do next.

Oh, that’s easy. I’m gonna run like my life depends on it. Because her life did depend on it. She darted away from him and ran straight into the street. A car horn blared, and she caught the flash of blinding headlights as tires squealed, but she didn’t stop. Luna rushed forward. She shoved through the crowd that waited on the other side of the street. Then she was bursting into a restaurant—a seafood place with jazz music filling the air—and ducking out the side of the building a few moments later. Because of the open-air design so many restaurants had in New Orleans, she could go in one side and out the other…and she did that, several times. In several bars and restaurants.

She ran and twisted and hauled ass as she tried to snake her way to safety. In bars. Out restaurants. Through crowds. Past flirtatious men. And drinking women and she⁠—

An empty street.

Silence.

That was so the way of the city. The crowd one road over—on Bourbon—would be toasting the night away. Then…silence. An empty street. Too many shadows.

She hurried forward, jumping over puddles of water that had been left from the last rain and doing her best to avoid the myriad of cracks in the old sidewalk. Safety was at hand. She knew it. She’d managed to escape and survive another night and she⁠—

Was surrounded.

The men came from the darkness. Three shadows that loomed toward her with obvious evil intent. “We missed you at the Square,” the nearest man said. Tall and thin.

To the right, another shadow stepped forward. Also tall, but round. Stooped shoulders. Big chest. Thick hands that had fisted at his sides.

Then, shadow number three. He stepped under the lone light. A ski mask covered his face. The others weren’t wearing masks. And that was bad, wasn’t it? Because if they weren’t wearing masks, then they didn’t care if she saw their faces. Because they don’t intend for me to ever escape from them. No, they intended to kill her right then and there.

So why is this guy in a mask?

“You ran from Loverboy,” the man in the mask said. “Figured you’d ditch him soon enough. We knew where you were heading, you see. Easy enough to cut you off.”

They’d known about her safe house? Her heart thundered in her chest. “Guess you were just waiting for the perfect moment to kill me, huh?”

The masked man nodded. “Yes, we were.”

Words that withered her heart. She took a step back, but there was no safety behind her. There was no safety anywhere for her. “Why bother with the mask? Your buddies aren’t hiding who they are.”

He advanced. Slowly, rather like a snake slithering toward her. “I like the mask. I’ve found people are far more terrified by what they can’t see than what they can.”

She was filled plenty with terror, thanks so much. “It’s because you’re not scary beneath the mask, right? A letdown?” She always talked too much when she was nervous. And Luna was way, way past just nervous. She was terrified. She’d lost her taser, she had no gun, and there were three of them.

They closed in on her.

“You made someone in Atlanta very angry.” From the mask. The leader, clearly. “And that someone is going to pay me a whole lot of money to slice you up.”

Oh, God. “Any chance I could change your mind?”

“How much money do you have?”

Great question. Five hundred, four dollars, and seventy-two cents. “How much money would it take?”

“There’s a million-dollar bounty on your head.”

What? This could not be her reality. “I’ll pay you two million,” Luna promised without blinking. “Tomorrow morning, we can meet at the bank and get it all squared away. Does that plan work for you?”

The mask laughed.

Yeah, she took that as a no. Unfortunately, the plan did not work for him.

He lifted his hand, and the two men with him sprang for her. She turned to run because it was truly her only option. She whirled, lunged and—once again, hit a very large, immovable object.

He’s back.

Her head tilted up. She stared at him. Tried to, anyway. He was in so much darkness—the shadows from the edge of the nearby building covered him. But she had no doubt that it was the stranger who’d so casually told her that he dealt in death. His sandalwood scent filled her nostrils, and his heat wrapped all the way around her again.

And, damn it all, her body got that weird electric charge once more. Fantastic. You’ve truly gone off the deep end, Luna. You’re attracted to a killer.

“Darling, did you miss me?” he asked her, voice all tender. “I missed you. Just couldn’t stay away, in fact.”

“You’re crazy,” she fired back.

“Crazy good at handling trouble. Why don’t you watch and see for yourself?”

Why didn’t she watch?

He pushed her behind him.

“Get the fuck out of our way, hero!” The yell came from the man in the mask.

Hero? Oh, the masked leader was mistaken, just as she had been. “He’s not here to save me,” Luna announced. “He wants me dead, too.”

Her “hero” turned his head to glare back at her. “How about we don’t share info with the enemy, hmm? That good for you?”

“Nothing about this night is good for me,” she muttered.

“He wants to get the bounty!” The man in the mask was clearly enraged. “Destroy that bastard!”

All three men attacked the “hero” who was trying to take their bounty. Luna scrambled back because this was going to be horrible, but…maybe it would also give her the chance to flee. The bad guys could fight each other and perhaps she’d live to run yet another day.

Only…

Only there was no time for running.

Because the “hero” moved wicked fast again. And he knocked out the tall and thin attacker. Then kicked the beefy one in the stomach, jabbed him in the jaw, and had the fellow tumbling into a heap on the ground five seconds later. As for the masked man, he lost his mask. Or rather, he got it ripped away, and when a sliver of light fell on him, she saw his gaunt face. The nose that was slightly off center. The receding hairline.

He lost the knife he’d tried to shove into the ribs of the “hero” who easily beat the crap out of him. When the beaten leader tried to flee, he just got shoved face-first into the pavement.

The man in the fancy suit with the dark, rumbly voice had just taken out three attackers. She didn’t think he’d even broken a sweat. And if he hadn’t kicked their asses so incredibly fast, she could have used the opportunity to, oh, say, flee for her life.

Instead, he was spinning whirling back for her. He grabbed her wrist even as she tried to surge away, and in the next moment, she was pinned between his powerful body and the hard bricks of the building behind her.

Her breath shuddered out.

“Now,” he murmured as his head lowered toward her. “Let me say again, did you miss me?”

A frantic, negative shake of her head.

He inhaled. “You smell like flowers.”

What was happening? And she smelled like roses. With a side dose of champagne because that was her body lotion. The lotion she’d worn forever and, yes, she’d taken it with her when she fled from Atlanta. “I did not miss you,” Luna blurted.

“Too bad.” One hand still held her wrist. The other had lifted to press against bricks near her body. He completely caged her. Swallowed her with his size. He’d just knocked out three men like it was nothing. And now it was just the two of them.

“What are you going to do with me?” she asked. Did her voice break? Yes, it did.

“I think I’m gonna kiss you.” He seemed surprised by his own words. He even blinked. Then shook his head.

She grabbed the front of his coat—that fancy black coat that made it look like he’d been out at a dinner party before he decided to stop and beat up three men. “Kiss me. Don’t kill me.”

“That a promise you want me to make?” A low rumble.

Somewhere near them, one of her would-be attackers let out a groan. Was he coming back to consciousness? Footsteps thudded a second later, and she knew the guy had fled the scene.

No help is coming. Not unless I can help myself.

“It’s a promise I would very much like, yes,” she rasped. Please, please don’t kill me.

How could she catch him unaware again? Maybe if he did kiss her, she could distract him, knee him in the groin, and run like hell? Would that work? It was certainly worth a shot.

“I’m afraid that’s not a promise I can give,” he replied, though he seemed apologetic. “I was hired to kill you, Luna Black. There’s a big bounty on your head, and, one way or another, you have to die tonight.”

Tears stung her eyes. “I should have been less afraid. Done more.”

He tilted his head as he studied her.

A tear leaked down her cheek. “It’s weird that you think of all the ways you wish you had lived, right before you die.” But that was exactly what she was doing. Running everything through her mind. Wishing for all the experiences she’d never had.

“Luna…”

“Kiss me.” I’ll live before I die. “Don’t kill me.” A last plea.

His mouth brushed over hers. Carefully, tenderly. Why would her killer kiss her so tenderly? But he did. She was unprepared for the attraction, the sheer lust, that seemed to explode through her body at the touch of his lips against hers. It was a careful kiss. Gentle. It shouldn’t flood need and heat through her entire body, yet it did.

Her mouth opened wider. His tongue thrust past her lips, and the kiss became so much more. Deeper. Rougher. Stronger.

Possessive.

She was holding onto his shoulders, and she didn’t remember grabbing him. She was kissing him as if her very life depended on it, getting swept away by a passion that she’d never felt before, and maybe it was the fear or the adrenaline that had her melting against him even as her heart galloped wildly but she had never, ever felt this way before and she⁠—

Pain.

A sharp pinprick of pain in her side.

His head lifted. “Sorry, sweet Luna.”

His words barely registered. The heat was fading from her body. Fading far, far too fast. Her eyes struggled to stay open and focus on his face. He was back to sounding all apologetic again, and she feared what he’d done.

Her gaze dropped. Her eyes blinked. Narrowed.

She could see the syringe in his hand.

He’s already killed me.

“There won’t be any more pain,” he told her. The words were a promise.

The bastard had kissed her. Drugged her. Kissed her and killed her and she couldn’t even speak. Her tongue felt funny in her mouth. Her lips too dry. Her body slumped, and she knew this was the end. No more running.

Another tear leaked down her cheek.

She wished that she’d lived more before dying.

***

Ronan Walker caught her as she fell. She slumped forward, all of that long, dark hair spilling out around her head, and he scooped her into his arms. The hood of her coat had long since fallen back, and her head sagged against his shoulder as he lifted her up against him. Her arms dangled as she hung—utterly limp—in his embrace.

That was one hell of a kiss, Luna Black.

An unexpected kiss. From an unexpected woman.

He turned and headed toward the groaning man in the middle of the street. The prick who’d mistakenly thought that he’d take Ronan’s target.

“It’s done,” Ronan said as he strode past the fool he’d face-planted into the pavement moments before. Luna’s left arm trailed down, her fingers open. “The drugs stopped her heart. The bounty is mine.”

The idiot swiped out at Ronan, so Ronan kicked the dick in the ribs. He could have just killed him, but Ronan needed a witness to share the news of the kill. “Stay out of my way,” Ronan warned him. The guy would get one warning. Just one. “Or next time, you’ll be the dead one.” The jackass’s cronies had both fled. Probably hiding in the shadows and watching the show. Good. Let them watch.

Ronan did love a good show.

He kept walking with his prey. The scent of roses and…was that champagne? He swore it was. The scent of roses and champagne teased his nose. The woman in his arms didn’t stir. How could she? The dead didn’t stir.

He turned to the right, heading for his car. Almost there.

“Hey!” Two guys in Tulane sweatshirts stumbled toward him. “Hey…what’s wrong with her?” One blinked blearily. “I’m pre-med,” he said. “I can help…” He weaved on his feet.

The pre-med looked as if he couldn’t do jackshit. But he was interfering with Ronan’s plans. The last thing he needed was help with his prey. “My girlfriend had too much to drink,” Ronan told the men. “Gonna take her home. Let her sleep it off.”

Even drunk, the two men hesitated.

“She does this a little too often,” he continued easily. “Told her that she had to slow things down. Good thing I was there to watch out for her, huh?”

“She…doesn’t look like she’s breathing.” Of course, this would come from the pre-med.

Ronan walked around the college guys. “That’s weird. Night, gentlemen.” He whistled as he carried her.

Unfortunately, the men might not be quite as drunk as Ronan had hoped because he was pretty sure they ambled along after him.

He kept his hold on Luna and hauled out his keys. He pressed the button to unlock the car and also pushed the button to pop the trunk. Then he carried Luna straight to the rear of the Benz. He lowered her inside. Being careful because, with her, he wanted to use care. Odd. Tenderness wasn’t typically part of his personality.

Being a blood-thirsty killer who didn’t give a shit about anyone? That was more him.

“Hey!” A sharp cry.

Ronan sighed. Why did his night have to keep being interrupted? Satisfied that Luna was all tucked in, he slammed the trunk’s lid closed.

“Hey, you can’t put your girlfriend in the trunk!” It was the pre-med. Rushing forward. Trying to come to the rescue.

Ronan pulled out his gun and stopped the man in his tracks. The gun had been tucked at the base of his back all night. And he’d only needed it now, with a hero. Go figure. “If you want to be a doctor one day, you’ll turn around. You will walk away.” And live to save a life another day.

The pre-med student shook his head.

His friend—looking suddenly way sober—stared with wide eyes. The friend looked like he might faint—or vomit—any moment.

“You can’t kidnap her!” Pre-med yelled. He was fumbling with his phone. Probably intending to dial nine-one-one.

Ronan headed for the driver’s side. He opened the door. Kept the gun on the men. “You can’t kidnap a dead woman.”

The two guys gaped at him.

“You can’t save one, either.” Ronan shrugged and then slid into the car. He kept his gun on the men a moment longer. “But it was really nice of you to try.” Interesting to know that there were still a few good people in the world. Too bad they’d arrived too late to save Luna Black. If only they’d been the ones to meet her near Jackson Square.

Instead, he’d been there. For just a moment, he’d played the hero for Luna.

And then he’d been her killer.

I can still taste her. Still feel her. Sweet and lush.

He lowered the gun. Slammed the door. A moment later, the Benz’s engine growled to life, and he shot through the streets of New Orleans.

His prey was in the trunk.

Luna Black. Current target. A woman who’d had a very large price on her pretty head.

Sometimes, being a hitman was a walk in the park.

A loud thump came from the trunk.

And sometimes, it’s a real pain in the ass.

It sounded like Luna was already waking up. He hadn’t given her a strong enough dosage. A mistake on his part. He’d have to stop soon and inject her again. Poor Luna.

Unfortunately, some people just did not know how to stay dead.