Page 144 of Hellbound

“Yes, a hallmark of the event,” he replied coolly.

She hopped onto the edge of the table facing him, legs splayed, and leaned back. “Even if the guards turn away, the scattered light and shadow will make it much more difficult to identify faces at a glimpse.”

His gaze darkened momentarily.

“So, our killer has a perfect entrance from the southwest or western walls and cover until they step into the crowded room of unidentifiable faces for perhaps an hour.” She swung her legs.

“Then, what’s your suggestion?” His head tilted as he leaned into her space.

Her eyes widened, and her brows pressed upward. “Did you just ask my opinion?”

“Tread carefully, Senka.”

She bit her lip, her eyes shifting away to contain her delight.

“Double and widen your mounted and foot guard patrol on the forested perimeter where they’re not affected by the light.” She ran her finger in a wide ring around the building. “Overlapping rounds should make it difficult for the killer to pass through and exploit the southern and western walls.” She pulled the guest list out from beneath the schematic. “No one in and no one out of the conservatory for the entire event without our explicit consent.”

35

The sparring hall was filled with dozens of Envorsen in various states of training. Several floor mats had been laid out for hand-to-hand combat and wrestling. Racks were half empty as the guards rotated through them in mixed weapons combat.

It smelled of sour sweat and chalk dust.

Archers skillfully shot the hanging dummies that swung from wrought iron chains overhead.

She hummed and dusted her gloves off as she worked her way deeper into the hall, where Bohdan sat against the edge of a work table, his jaw tight and eyes hard.

With a clap of his hands, he dismissed his men to retire for the evening.

“Rough day, Captain?” she greeted with a smile.

“Arm yourself,” he replied.

“Our precious captain is in a mood…” Ksenia crooned as she reached for a weapon.

A sword pierced past her torso, a flash of silver splitting the fabric of her tunic. Cool air hit her bare skin.

She leaped back, her lips curling. The seams of his mask were splitting. “What is wrong with you?”

He slashed again. She dodged.

She snatched a rapier and caught his sword cross-wise in time. The flexible shaft bent against the weight of his strike.

“Tell you what”—he clicked his tongue—“if you win against me tonight, I’ll give you the week off from training.”

His hands grasped the dull sides of her rapier like a mere toy as she struggled to wrench it free.

“But, if I win, I get to interrogate you about breaking into my quarters.”

Her head tipped back with her laugh. “Breaking into your quarters? If you want me there, all you have to do is beg, Captain,” she said, her voice rough and low.

He rolled his shoulders. “I know you trespassed.”

She eased up on her tiptoes, his sword pressing dangerously close to her throat as she stopped within a hand’s length from his face.

Her eyes glittered with amusement and something darker. “How do you know?”

Admit your obsession, she thought wickedly.