He stood slowly, anger working its way through the muscles of his forearms. “You know I won’t question you.”
“Good. Because she traded beasts to have her bounty removed.”
Kost’s hands went slack, and his brows dipped toward the frames of his glasses. “Does she know about the oath?”
I shrugged. “No. Does it matter?”
“I guess not.”
“Good.” Pushing off the desk, I reached for Kost’s arm. “Transfer ownership.”
He froze, stricken. “I can handle it once the deal is complete. There’s no need to take on the job yourself.”
Again, the sight of Kost skewered by the beast resurfaced. This job should have been mine to begin with. Not to mention I’d promised none of my men would take her life. Not lying, but not telling the whole truth, made for clean work as an assassin. My voice level, I placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “This isn’t a reflection of your ability. I made the deal; I carry out the task. Not you. Not anyone else.”
“But—”
“This isn’t up for discussion.”
Kost relented, turning his inner wrist upward and revealing an inked scythe the size of a silver chip. Grasping his forearm, I pressed my skin to his and the mark sparked to life. Flesh seared, and I grimaced. When the sizzling faded, I dropped his hand. The magical oath now binding me to the bounty gleamed up at me, sharp black lines neatly cutting across veins.
Now, if I didn’t kill Leena, it was my life on the line. Such was the agreement for all bounties placed with Cruor. Folklore suggested it was the god of death’s doing. When Zane, the first of our kind, had escaped his clutches and returned to the land of the living, the god of death had been enraged. All our contracts were steeped in his magic so he wouldn’t miss his opportunity to claim us a second time. True or not, it didn’t matter. All I knew was the oath couldn’t be broken, and that level of assurance welcomed the darkest of dealings. “The woman who ordered the hit—did she contact you with any more details after I assigned you the job?”
Kost shook his head once. He’d take this personally as a mark against his perfect record. “No. She wore a mask and was covered from head to toe, even wearing gloves. I did notice a currant-colored glow around her hand when she summoned a beast after the deal was done.”
She was smart to keep her identity hidden. The right amount of bits could convince anyone to spill any manner of secret. “A beast? Interesting.” So Leena’s own people were after her. “What about the job itself? Any specifics?”
“Yes. The woman wrote down the job’s details on parchment: Bones must be delivered within six hours of death.” He glanced at the silver watch cradling his left wrist. “I was supposed to meet her within the hour at Devil’s Hollow.”
I didn’t blink. It wouldn’t be the first or last time we were asked to do something strange with the remains. But Devil’s Hollow was dangerous. Tainted by dark magic and even darker omens. “Devil’s Hollow?”
Kost grimaced. “Unfortunately, yes. I requested we meet elsewhere, but the client insisted.”
“All right. We’ll keep the meeting brief.”
Black tendrils of shadow slunk toward me. Kost nabbed the spare tunic, slipping into it with ease, and followed suit, his own power lashing out against mine. Turning our backs on the medical wing, we rushed on the cold wind through the double doors and set out to meet our employer.
Three
Noc
Devil’s Hollow wasn’t far from Cruor, but we didn’t visit the clearing often. We knew better than to tempt the magic of the damned. If the Kitska Forest was a festering wound, then Devil’s Hollow was the poison that made it that way. Milky fog drifted across mulch and brown grass, stretching out to meet the gaping mouth of a cave with stalactite teeth. The cursed wood came to a screeching halt in a perfect circle around the opening, as if the whispered wails echoing from the cavern’s maw were spells even monsters dared not trigger.
A single barren tree with ashy bark and decaying limbs entrenched its gnarled roots around the opening. Upright spikes of blood-red flowers shooting out from the tips of branches were the only splatters of color—save the client cloaked in a mercury robe standing with his hands clasped before the cave’s opening.
I shot Kost a quick glance. Shoulders tense, he only offered a tight grimace. Surprise visitor, then.
I kept my voice low so as not to disturb the dark magic of the cavern. “I expected a woman.”
“She has other matters to attend to.” The man glanced back and forth between us. With his cloak pulled tight, his features remained hidden. “Where’s the Charmer?” Leather fingerless gloves hid his hands and wrists, and he folded his arms across his chest.
“There was an unexpected mishap. I take full responsibility for the delay, and I’m now handling this job personally.” Beside me, Kost flinched.
The man tilted his head, and the cloak moved enough to reveal a close-cut beard. “I see. And you are?”
I slipped my hands into the pockets of my trousers. “Noc. I’m the guild master.” A haze of shimmering magic brewed at the opening of the cave in response to my claim, and my pulse thundered in my ears. I did my best to ignore the silky murmur of power. The wretchedness here was far more putrid than the shadows we commanded, beckoning lost travelers to its bowels and stoking the fire of forbidden magic. Those who answered its call never survived.
Seemingly unaffected, a nasty smile crept over the man’s lips. “Interesting. May I ask what happened? Your colleague seemed capable enough.”
