Calem fidgeted. “Can I murder the Charmer?”
I understood his sentiment well. I’d lost too many loved ones before not to acknowledge the unease in my gut. Losing Kost wasn’t an option. We might have been agents of death, but that didn’t mean we welcomed it in our own home. Killing was a by-product of a centuries-old decree left from the time of the First King. Exiled from cities sanctioned by the king, yet forced to fulfill his contracts simply to survive. Death was necessary.
But not like this.
“Let the Charmer come.” The roaring fire cracked over the hushed silence immediately following my order. The manor kicked into full gear, bodies appearing out of every nook and cranny as members rushed to get a glimpse of Kost’s captor. They pressed firmly against the iron railing lining the second story, fingers wrapping around metal flowers welded to the bar. Thorns among roses—such was the life of the assassin.
I needed to protect them, as our former guild master, Talmage, had done. Tossing a quick glance to the fireplace mantel, my gaze snagged on a framed oil painting. Talmage stared back at me. Weighted down by heavy wrinkles, his gaze peered through me. The first time I saw those eyes had been from the flat of my back as he’d raised me from death.
“You chose your death. Kost found you without armor, without weapons, and with a smile on your face. I can’t say this life will be easier, but it will be new. You can move on. You can forget. We leave everything from our past in the ground.”
I thought death had wiped my slate clean when I followed Talmage and became a member of Cruor. I didn’t realize how wrong I was until it was too late. If death couldn’t cure me, then nothing would. All I could have was Cruor, and even that required a delicate balance between love and loss.
Never again would I trigger my curse, I vowed. Never again would I lose someone important. And now some Charmer with an army of beasts had Kost.
Careful footsteps thudded against wooden planks. Sinking into the black tufted armchair beside me, I capped the fear and anger in my veins and hid my ire beneath absolute stillness. The bronzed handles jerked, and the doors swung open.
A woman stepped inside.
Wide hazel eyes flashed from left to right. She looked every bit the scoundrel I believed her to be. Faded leather breeches worn from constant use. Formfitting violet tunic with an errant thread dangling from the hem. She probably thought bringing Kost here could net her some extra bits.
She wouldn’t live to spend whatever meager amount she kept in her change purse.
My brethren waited, completely still save their heavy stares and the subtle rise and fall of their chests. She studied each one, the color of her face dropping with every passing moment. Behind her, a transparent beast with the build of a slender man cradled Kost to its chest. Thousands of infinitesimal barbs anchored him in place, and blood dripped to the floor from his fingertips—three of which stuck out at odd angles.
Kost.
His green stare found mine, and his familiar stoic demeanor cracked to one of remorse as he lowered his gaze. He would view his capture as a failure. His downcast eyes sent a surge of rage deep into my bones, and I resisted the urge to lunge from the chair.
I couldn’t break my composure in front of the Charmer. In front of my people.
“Now, what do we have here?” I said, as cold as any shadow.
Her head whipped to me, and a few strands of hair clung to her high cheekbones. She pulled her leather jacket tight around her and took a careful step forward. “I mean no harm.”
My gaze slid to Kost. To the dried-on bracelets of blood circling his wrists. “I don’t wholly believe that.”
“Are you the leader of Cruor?” The slender beast sidled in closer to her. She dropped her gaze to her hand, and the frown pulling at her brows deepened. Interesting.
“Perhaps.”
“I want the bounty off my head,” she said. A few laughs rolled through the crowd before silence once again settled over us. She shifted her weight from one foot to the next, casting another quick glance at her hand.
I kept my tone even. “You’re a long way from home, Charmer. I will neither remove the bounty nor permit you to leave here safely.”
A peculiar sheen soaked her hairline, and the beast by her side shivered. She touched her chin to her shoulder, concern bleeding from her eyes, before taking a deep breath and meeting my gaze head-on.
“If you move to kill me, this man will die.”
The beast tightened its grip, and Kost’s sharp gasp was a fist around my heart.
Gods, Kost.
I dragged my gaze from Kost to her.Control. Expressing too much concern would threaten Kost’s life in ways the Charmer would never be able to understand. It was a careful calculus drilled into me by years living under the pall of my curse. “Kost does not fear death. He’s been there before.”
When Talmage was in charge, he’d insisted we leave fear behind for the sake of our work. I agreed, but there weren’t any rules about loyalty. Standing slowly, I gauged the distance between Kost and me. What kind of powers did this creature have? Would I make it in time?
Shadows gathered in my peripheral and flung themselves to me. Swathed me in a cool darkness that made movements lethal and nearly impossible to track. I lunged before doubt had a chance to freeze my muscles. Thick tendrils flared outward in a puff of black smoke, and suddenly I was before her. I wrapped my hand around the soft flesh of the woman’s neck, yanked her from the floor, and held her suspended above the ebony tile. She was so fragile. Breakable. Hard to believe she’d somehow managed to trap my second-in-command. What made her so dangerous that she warranted a bounty? No matter: one swift jerk and I could end her life. Fingers wrenched between mine, and her watery eyes widened.
