Page 85 of Condemned

Chapter Thirty-One

J’kai knew when theideal place and moment for an ambush arrived. This was it.

She’d watched and followed the troop from Omage, taken swift and arduous shortcuts to get ahead.

This day was going to take her target score to over one hundred.

She’d not seen a huleon female evoke such devotion from one lover before, let alone four of them. So many huleons were condemned to a lonely life with only curses to keep them company.

A pity to kill these.

Emboldened by the love story unfurling before her cynical and shadowed eyes, she’d dared to talk to a mauleon at a tavern. It had yielded interesting results: her first kiss in the arms of a handsome ex-lawman called Raiden. Kissing had its attraction.

Her six assistants were male human warriors trained in the art of subterfuge, concealment, and silent death. They’d bowed to her and vowed that their hearts were pure as fresh white snow and their arms the righteous arms of the kingdom that would strike unerringly. They could do no wrong. It’d been a pretty speech.

They were poised in position to either side of the path used by the mauleon troop and the female.

She rechecked her sword, her knives, her throwing darts, and picked up the blow tube, careful to make no sound, or press on twig or grass.

The darts containing the numbing poison were in one hand, tube in the other, as she sighted through the gap in the undergrowth and the bank of dirt. Her position was above the cutting that held the road. The six warriors were also ready to attack from above. They’d agreed to use the blade rather than ranged weapons. If used accurately and ruthlessly a blade thrust could kill silently. Not long before this, a party of mauleon traders had passed by.

She’d told the warriors it was best not to arouse suspicion.

Each warrior had been assigned a victim. Two were assigned to the captain. A volley of her darts could be sent on their way within seconds, instantly semi-paralyzing the muscle each dart penetrated.

As time wheezed past, each victim would find themselves more and more paralyzed. However, long before the poison stopped their heart from pumping, the warriors had pledged to put a blade strike through both heart and throat.

She could hit the neck of the four mauleons and the girl, even if they spurred their mounts, guaranteed. It was why she was the primary assassin and not the six warriors.

Such a pity to do this. Her small claws slid out and she pressed them to the blow tube.

She never took lives without thought, without referring to her unique code. Payment before death, that was her moral code. The girl thief’s uncle had paid her well.

She inhaled, exhaled, nodded, made her decision.

“Time to die.” She lifted the tube and aimed. The darts flew, spat out rapidly as she fed them into the mouth end of the tube, and they sank into their targets.

Falling through the air, the righteous warriors had their sword arms raised to deliver their blows.

Warned by the rustle of grass as the warriors jumped, the mauleon soldiers below were unsheathing pistol, rifle, and sword.

Too late.

Except that each and every human warrior failed to strike correctly. They fumbled and fell into their targets, dropped to the ground with holes in them, wounds created by soldiers trained by war to react fast and with deadly force.

The girl had been knocked partway from the saddle but even she was hauled back into position as the troop galloped through the ambush setting and away. They weren’t staying to see if more enemies might appear and attack.

Those were well-led soldiers.

J’kai listened to the hoof beats diminish, and to the choking noises of the warriors as their hearts failed from either poison or blood loss.

She smiled.

Her darts had struck well and paralyzed their sword arms.

Silently, she wriggled backward then waited for any sign of someone returning. Or someone new arriving. There were rumors her client liked to have a backup for difficult targets, and that Arx was his favorite.

If Arx was involved, the danger would escalate exponentially. Disguise and improvisation must be expected. The unexpected must be expected. There was no assassin superior. He was at the top of the heap—most likely pretending to be a leaf on that heap, wafting on the wind, or a dead body, or a girl selling cookies.

When there were no signs of interference, she leaped to the floor of the road and retrieved her darts then sprinted away into the forest where her mount waited for her.

One hundred and one, yes.Her score was indeed above one hundred. A nice achievement to retire on, but could she? Should she?

There was one more to kill before she could retire, alas.

For once, for the first time in her life, she’d let her common sense be swayed by emotion, by love.

It felt good.