Calem plopped into the chair next to me with his own steaming mug. “Yeah, yeah.”
Turning a sweet smile on me, she set the omelet down and handed off silverware. “Here you go. Enjoy.” With one last parting glare at Calem, she sashayed out of the room.
“It just looked so good.” He draped an arm over the back of my chair and sipped his drink. “Coffee is enough for me, though. What’d I miss? More riveting conversation from the dynamic duo?”
Emelia’s fingers twitched. “I was just saying how it doesn’t make sense that Noc is letting a Charmer wander freely through our home.”
This is what I’d expected. Some kind of tension or concern or thinly veiled threat. Had the roles been reversed, I would have acted the same. I dropped my gaze and speared a forkful of omelet.
“And I was saying it didn’t matter because Kost was—is—fine.” Iov frowned at his sister.
“Always the same with you two,” Calem muttered.
Ozias leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table. “Cut it out. She’s a guest in our home.” It took me two tries to swallow the omelet. Not for lack of want—the savory burst of flavor was unlike anything I’d eaten before—but because this assassin had placed my comfort above his comrades’ concerns. “If you’re done eating, clear your plates so Naomi doesn’t come after you with a knife, too. Then, be outside in five to help with the new recruits.”
Iov side-eyed his sister. “See what you’ve done? I had today off before this.”
“Shut it.” She pushed away from the table and grabbed her plate without so much as a backward glance. Iov did the same, filing out behind her with a wave over his shoulder.
Ozias shook his head and reached for his mug. “Kids.”
“Hardly. They’ve been raised for ten years now. Their brooding teenager act should be long gone.” Calem set his mug down.
“We’ll give them some extra work, then.”
“Don’t punish them on my account,” I said. “If it were me, I might have acted the same.” After forking the last bite of omelet into my mouth, I set my silverware across my plate and relished the feel of a good meal. How long had it been since I’d eaten something that wasn’t questionable at best? Dez meant well, but he was forced to scavenge for bits like the rest of us. It didn’t always make for the freshest of ingredients.
Ozias stood and reached for my plate, stacking it on top of his. “Practice doesn’t hurt anybody. We need to prepare them for jobs. You never know when we might get another bounty like you.” His voice was light, if not a little teasing.
I shrugged. “I’m not one to go down without a fight.”
“That’s the spirit. Want to join us for training? I promise I’ll go easy on you.” Calem’s grin was pure mischief.
I hid a snort by draining the last of my coffee. He certainly had an allure about him, thanks in part to his bronzed skin, solid build, and long, golden-blond hair. Even his muted-red eyes hinted at that special hour of sunset just before the sun sank below the horizon. But appearances aside, I wasn’t ready to hop into an assassin’s bed.
“I’ll pass.”
Calem shrugged. “Your loss. I would’ve made it worth your while.”
Ozias smacked the back of his comrade’s head. “You’re relentless. C’mon, Leena. Give him a chance to lick his wounds before he takes it out on the recruits.”
Calem muttered something about “licking” beneath his breath and leaped out of the way before Ozias could slap at him again. He fled the room, his laugh still rattling through the air even after he disappeared. Ozias and I tracked back through the kitchen, where he handed off our plates to Naomi, and then he led us out into the foyer. The assassins from earlier had dispersed, leaving behind no trace of their earlier activities.
Coming to a halt, Ozias ran a thick hand over his shorn hair. “I know Calem was teasing and all, but you’re welcome to join us. It might be a tad boring, though. We’re working with newly raised assassins, and the training is more a mental grappling of sorts. Shadows don’t obey in a day.”
“What about Emelia and Iov?”
His grin kicked up on one side. “I’ve got a few ideas.”
I shook my head to hide a smile. It was too easy to feel warm around him. “I’m not sure my presence would help. I’ll find another way to keep myself busy.”
“There’s a library down that hall.” Ozias jutted his thumb over his shoulder. “If you’re into that sort of thing. Otherwise, feel free to roam.” Then, after a beat, he added, “Just be sure to stay on the grounds. You’re safe unless you try to leave.”
My stomach solidified into cement, and I managed a nod. “Got it.”
His grin returned, and he offered me a parting wave before backstepping into a flurry of shadows. Tendrils devoured his frame, and he was gone. Just like that. The double doors leading to Cruor’s front lawn taunted me in my peripheral vision, but I stalked away in the direction of the library. I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. I needed something from these assassins, just like they needed something from me. I needed leverage without it actually being leverage, otherwise the blood wouldn’t be considered “free.”
And therein lay the problem.
