Page 2 of Ruin (Villains for Hire)

T he stench of refuse and rot permeating the filthy alleyway clogged her nose and made her stomach turn nauseatingly, but those were distant things, easily ignored.

Unfortunately, the sharp bite of broken plasiform slicing into her feet was far less easily ignored.

Unhappily surfacing from her daydream, Lira focused on the ground, tiptoeing carefully to avoid any more cuts on her already bleeding soles. Refusing to give her shoes was one of Vargot’s very effective methods to prevent her from running.

Hard to make your escape when your feet were bare and bleeding.

Despite the pain, she didn’t make a sound. Vargot hated whimpering. Said it made his cochlea ache.

Between one step and the next, a sense, or maybe a shift in the air, had her looking up just in time to see a hulking shadow detach itself from the darkness.

Recognition was instant, but it took longer to determine the Lurian was real and not a figment of her imagination.

In fact, it wasn’t until she felt warm blood splatter her chest and neck that she was sure.

Moving with exquisitely lethal precision, the male attacked Vargot's bodyguards first. Metal glinted in the low light, dancing through the air in hypnotic swirls and flashing arcs as he severed limbs and opened throats.

Crimson sprayed the graffiti-covered walls in grisly streaks and pooled on the filthy ground.

When the last guard fell, he laid into the lackeys, who hadn’t had time to react, let alone run. Screams were abruptly choked off into gurgles. Body after body fell, joining the growing mound.

Through it all, Lira stared, transfixed.

He was death personified. A whirlwind of savagery and violence.

Please, please, please…

Barely breathing, not daring to blink, she watched, waiting, hoping he wouldn’t turn around and leave Vargot alive.

Another step forward, a flick of the wrist almost too quick to see, and then Vargot’s bulbous eyes widened in shock and terror as the Lurian slit him open from throat to gut.

He collapsed in a boneless heap at Lira's feet, twitching grotesquely, tentacles writhing in agony.

She peered down at her owner, holding his gaze until the life drained out of him.

As the last of the death throes subsided, a shuddering breath slid past her lips and a tingling wave of euphoria filled her.

“I’m free,” she mouthed silently.

Feeling his scrutiny, Lira tilted her head back. The Lurian was tense, that massive body poised. He expected her to run. She could see it in those bright yellow eyes.

Instead, she stared back, unflinching. She felt no fear, only an inexplicable sense of rightness when she looked at him.

No, she had no intention of running from her savior.

That same softness she’d seen in his gaze in the bar flickered to life, slowly replacing the cold fury until only warmth remained.

Warmth… and wariness.

Lira reflexively suppressed the giggle that wanted to rise. Was she the scary one now?

He took a tentative step forward, wiping his blades on his pants before sheathing them, then holding out open hands to her.

“Easy, little one,” he rumbled.

Mmm, his voice was even better than she’d imagined. A raspy growl underscored with a thrumming vibration, indicative of vocal cords much different from hers.

“I won’t hurt you.”

That deep voice washed over her like a caress, igniting sparks she hadn't felt in… ever?

Barely above a whisper, she murmured, “Okay.”

Slowly, he closed the distance between them, movements fluid and predatory. Those hypnotic amber eyes seemed to drink her in, as if committing every detail to memory.

Lira craned her head back farther and farther to maintain their stare as he neared. He came to a stop a scant couple of inches between them, and the heat from his massive body enveloped her like a blanket.

Towering over her by at least a foot and a half, he made her feel like a dwarf peering up at a giant.

With careful, attentive motions, he aimed a strange device at the high-tech collar encircling her throat. Seconds ticked by in silence before the collar opened with a soft hiss and fell to the ground with a jarring, metallic clank.

Raising a shaky hand, she touched the bruised, scarred skin of her neck, a tremulous smile breaking free and a hard knot of emotion clogging her throat.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

At her words, he winced almost imperceptibly. Hesitantly, he cupped her face in one massive hand, thumb brushing lightly over her cheekbone.

The simple touch made her breath hitch. She leaned into his palm, savoring the contact after being starved of kindness for so very long.

“You’re safe now.”

Safe.

The word resonated through her hollow soul, filling up all the dark, empty spaces with fragile hope.

His nostrils flared slightly. Brows furrowed, his gaze shot to her feet.

“You’re bleedin’.”

Lira nodded absently, still staring up at him. “Usually.”

A bass growl rumbled in his chest and his lip lifted in a snarl, baring pretty white teeth and two sets of upper fangs. He cut the sound off abruptly and flicked her a concerned look, obviously worried he’d scare her.

Lira just smiled. She wasn't afraid. Not of him.

“Show me the bottoms of your feet.”

She did, though wondered how he’d see them. The only reason she could make him out was because a muted shaft of light from the street behind cut across his face. Maybe Lurians had especially good night vision?

He cursed under his breath. “Godsdamnit. They’re fuckin’ shredded. That fuckin’ piece of filth… ” He cut an angry scowl at Vargot’s corpse, then peered back down at her, expression immediately softening. “You can’t walk.”

Sure, she could. She’d been doing so before he appeared and murdered everyone.

He wasn’t going to leave her now, was he? She could walk! She wouldn’t fall behind.

Panic had her heart pounding in her chest and her hands curling into fists. Why hadn’t she considered that he wouldn’t want to take her with him after freeing her?

Of course, he wouldn’t. She was dirty and scarred and?—

“Will you lemme carry you?”

The breath whooshed out of her, the relief so profound her knees shook.

“Yes, please.”

When he reached for her, she promptly raised her arms, then molded herself to the hard contours of his chest with a happy sigh, wrapping her arms around his thick neck and her legs around his broad waist.

He stiffened slightly, as though surprised by how eagerly she’d latched onto him. Lira bit her lip, wondering if she was supposed to not be eager. She didn’t know how to act, what the right and wrong things to do were. She didn’t want to do anything that would make him decide he didn’t want to keep her.

Because she very much wanted to keep him.

After a pause, he hooked one thickly muscled arm under her ass, the other resting on the grip of the gun holstered on his hip.

He set off, long strides carrying her away from the carnage in the alleyway and the nightmare her life had been. With every step, something inside her began to unclench.

“What’s your name?” she whispered against the base of his throat, then leaned up, unabashedly studying his striking alien features.

His luminous yellow eyes flicked to her, expression almost… flustered.

“Ruin.”

“I’m Lira.” She nestled back against him with a contented hum. “Where are we going, Ruin?”

“Somewhere safe.”

Earlier that day, she would’ve said such a place didn’t exist, but she believed him.

She was finally free from Vargot's cruelty and abuse. She had no idea what lay ahead, but that was okay. She was content to simply bask in the feeling of being free, for however long it lasted.

For the first time in seven years, Lira had a chance at something better. Something more.

And it was all thanks to the Lurian who held her securely in his arms.

His name was Ruin.

And he was hers.