Cuddles for the Bear (Assassin’s Alley #3)

Chapter One

Adapted from the epilogue of Sweet Things For A Crocodile

Devon didn’t bother turning on his lights, even though his second bedroom, which he’d turned into an office, was dark. Only the glow of his computer screen provided any glare and that was what Devon was focused on.

Is it true you’re an assassin? Can you kill him for me?

“Well, shit,” Devon cursed softly. Clearly things were worse for his online friend than he thought. He scrolled back through the hundreds of messages the two had shared, seeing them in a new light.

This could get me into so much trouble, he thought as his fingers rested on his keyboard and he started to type a reply.

Are you in a safe place? Are you safe right now?

BlueKnight64 was still online, and Devon worried that his friend might have been waiting for his reply while he’d been enjoying barbecue with his friends. He rubbed his fist against the center of his chest. That feeling made him uncomfortable.

Finally the three little wavy dots indicated someone was typing a response.

He’s gone out for a few hours. I’m not sure when he’ll be back… Bear… I’m scared. I don’t know what to do.

You need to get out of there. Have you got anywhere close by you can go? Can a friend help you until I can get there?

As soon as he hit send, Devon scrolled back up through the messages. He was looking for any hint, any suggestion at all about where BlueKnight64 lived.

They’d been chatting online for months. Devon had originally seen a post written by BlueKnight64 asking for help with a geometry problem. Assuming the person was a student, Devon had answered.

Storm’s description of him as a professor was partially accurate.

There had been a time when Devon had taught classes – many, many moons ago.

BlueKnight64 had come back to him with another question, this time through a private message board, and their chats progressed to the point where they were in contact almost every day.

Devon believed he’d found a friend, even though he realized as he scrolled the chats, he knew barely anything about the person on the other side of the chat at all.

There were talks about books, and at one point, a rather heated discussion on which episode of Star Trek was the most plausible – a conversation that had spanned over two weeks.

Devon lingered on the day he’d admitted what he did for a living.

He remembered being tired and stressed after spending three days chasing a rogue wolf shifter.

The guy hadn’t gone down easily – wolf shifters never did – and by the time Devon had got back to the Alley, he had to shift to heal his own wounds.

All he wanted to do was bury himself in his massive bed and not come out for a week.

But habit had him checking his messages first. BlueKnight64 had left a dozen messages for him over the three days – each one expressing more and more concern. The person was clearly worried he’d said or done something wrong, and Devon could almost feel his rising upset through the screen.

Devon had apologized immediately. It was the first time anyone, outside of his colleagues, who had given a damn about where he was.

It was in that frame of mind, when he said he’d been on a work trip - and naturally BlueKnight64 had asked him what he did - Devon was too tired to lie.

He typed I’m an assassin, but I only kill bad guys.

BlueKnight64 typed back cool, and that was that.

He was taking forever to reply to Devon’s questions now. Devon watched the dots, resisting the urge to shake his computer screen. He had no idea if BlueKnight64 was someone who tapped with one finger on each hand or typed using all his fingers like Devon did.

He’s locked me in. There’s no way out. He gets really cross if I’m not here when he gets home.

My friends… I don’t have any friends anymore because he doesn’t like them.

He said they filled my head with ideas, but I never knew what those ideas were.

He’s never going to let me go. He claims I’m his possession and keeps yelling mine at me every time I suggest going out somewhere.

I don’t understand why. I mean, I do, but

“But what?” Devon thumped his desk. “I don’t even know where you are.” He watched the screen, hoping against hope that the three dots would start dancing again, but they were still. Less than a minute later, the blue dot indicating BlueKnight64 was online went gray.

“Fuck it!” Devon jumped out of his chair, his fists clenched as he paced from one side of the room to the other, glancing at the screen every two seconds.

Perhaps his internet connection isn’t very strong… Perhaps even now, he’s frantically trying to reconnect again.

Five minutes later Devon realized his friend wasn’t coming back online. What the hell am I going to do now?

What to do? What to do? Glancing at the screen one more time, Devon wandered into his kitchen, reaching into his refrigerator for a can of beer. His cynical side made itself known as he dropped down into the chair he had by his kitchen table.

The guy could just be yanking my chain. I don’t even know who he is. For all I know, this is someone leading me into a long-form scam. He might not even be a real person.

That was the problem with online anonymity.

Devon already knew BlueKnight64’s profile by heart.

His location had always been listed as “Wherever I lay my hat,” which Devon thought was cute.

His date of birth showed he was an adult.

In fact, Devon had enjoyed a few drinks sitting in front of his computer on BlueKnight64’s twenty-fifth birthday the month before. That sure felt real to me.

Devon’s profile details were all manufactured as well.

That was just part of an assassin’s life, with the added bonus that he was a shifter.

The only people who knew that his name was Devon and that he lived at Assassin’s Alley were the other assassins who lived there, too.

BlueKnight64 called him “Bear” because Devon’s username was “BearClaw79” – he had a fondness for baked goods, so it fit.

It's probably all fake. He’s probably just having a laugh with his friends even now, while I’m sitting here worried sick. Yeah, Devon didn’t believe that, and neither did his bear, and his bear was usually a good judge of character.

The only issue Devon could see was that without knowing where BlueKnight64 was, or even what his legal name was, the most effective way to track the man down was to admit to Cyrus what he’d done and ask for help.

The man had resources. It would probably only take a second to find out who BlueKnight64 was and where they were.

Cyrus is a decent bloke… I mean, I know I broke the rules, but if I can save someone… Devon tapped his nails against the side of his half-empty can.

It’s not like I told BlueKnight64 where I was, or any of the others.

I haven’t put them in danger. He doesn’t know where I am – where any of us are.

Surely there’s something the people we work for could do – trace an IP address or something?

Just give me some idea of where he is? What’s the worst that could happen?

Letting out a long huff, Devon’s mind let him know how bad things could go wrong.

Cyrus could get the computer connection checked and find out BlueKnight64 was on the other side of the world.

Or Cyrus would get a message letting him know Devon had to be stood down or something equally ridiculous because he’d let himself get scammed by some radical person who wanted to out him and his friends.

What would even happen if that were true?

Devon had no idea. It’s not like he’d ever heard of anything similar happening to any of his friends.

But as he sat there, his mind churning, Devon already knew what he would do.

Even if he got outed as the most stupid bear-shifting assassin in existence, he couldn’t let the matter of BlueKnight64 rest.

Knowingly or not, there had been times when that anonymous person on the other side of the screen was the only person who could make Devon laugh. There were days when his job weighed heavily on him, and yet he genuinely felt his heart lift every time he saw he had an unread message.

I could go to bed. Devon downed the rest of his beer, setting his can down carefully on the table. Wait and see if there’s a message in the morning. Maybe there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, and it will be waiting for me when I wake up. We’ll both laugh and get on with our day.

That wasn’t going to happen. There were words from BlueKnight64’s last message that couldn’t be ignored.

He locks me in.

…no way out…

…doesn’t like my friends…

He gets cross…

He said he’ll never let me go…

Calls me “mine” …

“See, that right there is shifter behavior.” Devon pointed at his can. “There’s never been any indication in the messages we’ve exchanged that he’s mated and happy about it. Never. Nope. I’m going to have to talk to Cyrus.”

Getting up from his chair, Devon wasn’t sure if he was making the biggest mistake of his life or not. I just hope Python’s worked his dick magic and put Cyrus in a good mood, he thought as he made his way out of the house and down the track to Cyrus’s workshop.