Chapter Seven

You have to tell him about your work and what we do here before you claim him. Storm had been thinking about Python's warning ever since the demon had dropped off their bacon and donut order. Python's words had been a lot cruder, but the intent was clear.

Storm already knew what Python had been through with that vampire job, back when he'd met and claimed Cyrus, and then had to disappear to do a job. His demon side literally went on strike, leaving Python in a lot of pain. While it'd be unlikely that Storm would be on another job anytime in the next week, his own sense of what was right meant serious conversations were needed with his little pixie.

To his credit, the pixie, who introduced himself as Pax, didn't seem to think it was unusual to share a meal with a virtual stranger, in a house he wasn't familiar with. He seemed more interested in the donuts.

"Whoever crafted these donuts knows exactly how to balance the sweetness with that fluffy goodness." Pax sighed happily as he popped another morsel into his mouth. "They are true artistes. Where is this place?"

"This house or the bakery?" Storm chuckled. His buns were already history, and he was nursing his coffee. "Actually, they are pretty much in the same place. Just north of Big Sky, do you know the place?"

"Hmm." Pax nodded, his mouthful of food. After swallowing he added, "I was taken from a bar in Bozeman. Oh. That's a thought. I don't have to talk to anyone about what happened, do I? Was that cabin in a remote place? Will anyone find the body? My gods, what if they find a speck of my DNA? I could be charged with murder. Do they even have donuts in prison?"

Storm burst out laughing. It was clear where his pixie's priorities were – much like my own . "You won't get done for murder, sweetie. I was the one who killed the bear, and if any authorities did get involved they would be paranormal ones who would know you were the victim. Did you live in Bozeman? What do you do?"

"I have a small studio apartment in Bozeman, yes, although I haven't been there very long. As for what I do, I'm a useless waste of space, if you listen to my uncle." Pax smiled, showing a flash of his cute little teeth. "What about you? What do you do?"

Here goes nothing. "I'm an assassin, working for a shadow corporation that nobody can know about."

"Cool." Pax nodded. "That explains how you handled the bear. Are your friends in the same business, too?"

"Yeah. There are seven of us. We all are – well, except for Cyrus, but he had done similar work in the past and is now our handler. He runs a workshop and owns the land our houses are on." Maybe it hasn't sunk in yet? Am I waiting for some kind of delayed reaction? Pax hadn't blinked when Storm told him his big secret.

"Perfect. Makes absolutely perfect sense." Pax's grin widened. "Not a bad transition for me in twenty-four hours – going from being a victim in the clutches of a crazed bear in a horror cabin to eating fresh donuts in an ‘Assassin's Secret Lair.'"

"We actually call this place Assassin's Alley." Okay, so it wasn't a delayed reaction, but maybe Pax hadn't grasped the seriousness of what Storm did. "You do realize I kill people for a living, don't you? That's what assassins do."

Pax's eyes widened and his head tilted in a cute way to the side. "I might be a waste of space, but I can tell the difference between an assassin and a serial killer. A serial killer wouldn't claim to be my mate and serve me donuts. He'd be trying to cut me up so he can stuff me in a slow cooker.

"Mind you, your occupation explains why you weren't worried about the bear's body being found. You've probably got shadowy figures who are only known as the cleaners, or the fixers, or something like that who dive in after every one of your jobs and make sure no sign of your existence is left in case regular authorities come sniffing around."

"Something like that, yes, although I've never seen those shadowy figures you mention." Leaning his elbows on the table, Storm looked at the man who would be his forever. "You truly don't have an issue with what I do?"

"Why would I?" Pax leaned his elbows on the table too, meeting his eyes. The pixie showed no fear, just a hint of amusement. "Do you have an issue with the fact I'm a waste of space? I think the longest I've lasted in a job was two hours, and that was making coffee at a chain store. Two hours in and I got fired for nothing . Honestly, nothing. All I did was take a little donut break."

"How many donuts did you have on that little break?" Storm's eyes flicked to the now empty donut box.

"Only three." Pax's bottom lip stuck out. "I could've eaten six, but I wasn't given the chance. But what did they expect? I'd been smelling that sugary goodness for two solid hours, but I was told I wasn't allowed to touch them. ‘Don't touch the food in the display cabinets.' I paid for them, I should've been allowed to eat them. Two hours, Storm. I mean, what would you do?"

"Were you supposed to be working while you were disposing of those donuts?" Storm was sure there was more to his little mate's story.

"Maybe. But donuts! Do you know what sort of torture that was for me? Two hours sniffing donuts, and I couldn't eat a single one. I watched this one guy, and he bought three donuts, just to take a picture of them with his phone, and then he threw them in the trash bin. Three donuts – their life's purpose wasted because he didn't want to eat them. I had to go and make the other ones in the cabinet feel better. They could've ended up in the trash."

"Sacrilege." Storm chuckled. Pax sounded seriously offended. "Are there things you'd like to do? Apart from the donut eating, because that's an established necessity."

The smile disappeared from Pax's face so fast, it was like a light turned off. He turned his head, looking out of the window. "I'm not good at anything," he said, and Storm's heart winced at the hurt in his voice. "All I've heard my whole life was that I was useless, worthless, and not fit for anything except sucking shifter dick."

Storm glanced down at the lump in his pants and then mentally sighed. There were more important things than getting his dick sucked, like making Pax smile again. Then a thought hit him around the side of his lust fuddled brain. "Why shifter dick?" he asked. "Why not dick in general, or paranormal dick, or whatever? When someone was making you feel bad about yourself, why did they insist on shifter dick? Or was that your preference?"

Pax's head snapped back around so fast. "You know, I never thought about that. I have been teased about loving shifter dick since I was eighteen. Why put that idea in my head?" His eyes widened. "Is that some sort of a conspiracy theory? Shifters are usually a lot bigger than pixies like me."

"Flint, one of our assassins, is a snake shifter, and isn't much bigger than you. You can meet him later."

"But as a rule, right?" Pax was wiggling in his seat, his eyes wide. "Alpha shifter males, big guys with big muscles and bigger dicks. Who would be the type of person who could knock my head off with a punch if I accidentally caught them with my tooth or something? I mean, look where you found me. That guy was going to kill me. Suddenly I feel like I've been set up – a huge conspiracy to knock me off. Encourage me to suck shifter dick until one of them kills me."

The problem was, Storm had no idea if his excitable mate was serious or not. "Is that a possibility?" Maybe if I get a few more details…

"With my uncle, who knows?" Pax flung up his hands. "The story is as old as time. Parents are killed in some mysterious accident no one will talk about. Me, the sole child who is somehow miraculously found alive and taken in by only other family member who stepped forward – said uncle. That same uncle who then spends every minute I can remember in his presence, putting me down and reminding me how useless I am no matter what I try to do. You tell me. Does that sound like a plausible conspiracy theory to you now?"

That was admittedly weird, however…

Pax hadn't finished. "If I die, then my uncle gets my parent's estate – but I don't even know where that is, because I've never seen it, only heard about it. When I ask about it, I'm told I don't need anything because I am nothing, and anything I need I can magic up myself. He just keeps sending me off, telling me to go and play with shifters, and goes back to sipping his martini. The only reason why I think this bear incident is a coincidence rather than conspiracy is because from what I've seen, my uncle is far too damn lazy to raise a finger and put a hit out on me. Maybe he figured I'd be killed through natural selection or some other shit."

Family issues. Storm could relate. He had been through a shit ton of them himself before he'd broken away and forged a life for himself. One of the reasons he enjoyed his job as an assassin was that it meant he was expected to keep a low profile. If any of his family found him… "Hey," he said softly, "from the sounds of things, you don't have to have anything to do with your uncle, do you? Unless you're really worried about your inheritance?"

"I don't even know if I have an inheritance." Pax sighed, looking down at his hands. "It was just one of those things my uncle kept holding over my head, trying to make me conform to some standard of behavior I never understood. It's not like he ever showed me a house or a bank account and said, ‘all this will be yours, one day.' When his veiled threats didn't work, he wound me up and sent me out like a shifter-dick-seeking missile, leaving me to my own devices. You really didn't do too well in the mate stakes, mate. You ended up with me."

"You have no idea how happy that makes me." It was so tempting to encourage Pax to do some shifter dick seeking in his direction, but Storm could be patient. Pax had been undermined and put down his whole life. Storm wanted him to get a sense of how valued he was. Which meant keeping his dick in his pants and using his charm instead. "As far as I'm concerned you can move in here as soon as you're ready. We can borrow a truck and clear out your studio in Bozeman any time you like. Did you want to have a look around the complex we have here – meet some of my friends?"

"You want to introduce me to people as your mate?" Pax almost fell over, he got up from his chair so fast. He ran around the table, and Storm suddenly found himself with an armful of pixie. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

"What are you thanking me for?" Storm asked with a chuckle as he held Pax close, enjoying the feeling.

Pax leaned back and said with a grin, "The hug was to say thank you for not wanting to hide me away like a dirty little secret. If you show me where that bakery is and introduce me to the maker of donuts, there'll probably be kisses involved."

"Ooh, I like where this is going." Storm winked. "And if I buy the rest of the donuts in the store to bring back here?"

"Do you have a problem with crumbs in the bed?"

There was the sparkle Storm was looking for. "Not at all. Let's go make this happen."