Page 102 of A Thief Among Fae

Her throat rumbles just before she pounces into the hallway.

“Wait, you forgot your armor!” I shout, but she’s already gone. I white-knuckle a knife as I flatten my back against the door, then peer into the hall. Min pounces, knocking the assassin over. Her claws bat his chainmail coif off his head, then rake into his throat.

Bile rises into my mouth. I swallow it down. This isn’t the time to let a little gore paralyze me, not when our lives are at stake. I have to fight. I’m not the same woman who got her ass kicked by Desmond on the mat, the one who almost lost to a draugr wight. I won’t hide.

It strikes me with a surge of indignation that my parents would want exactly that. Their daughter safe behind a locked door because untethering is no Gift for a fight.

You’re a liability, Desmond had said after evaluating me.

When the tides turn, you will be afraid, Auri had hissed just before she held me at knifepoint.

I’ll prove them all wrong. Besides, Gashil must pay for threatening my family.

I put on Min’s armored vest, hoping she won’t mind. Then I lunge into the hall. The assassin Min attacked is unmoving, silver blood seeping from the lethal lacerations. The violence isn’t what stuns me this time.

It’s his body, as tall as a troll yet with the graceful proportions of a fae. Where his skin isn’t tainted by blood, it’s milky white like the moon reflected on water. His ears are pointed like a fae’s, but his broad shoulders and meaty hands remind me of Brandur. Until Gashil, I had never seen someone like this.

Min paws at him and lets loose a deep, satisfied rumble.

The metallic clashing of blades sounds from the kitchen. Desmond’s door is wide open. He’s already joined the fray.

I startle as a hulking female fomorian charges into the hall. Chainmail covers her from neck to toe, a helmet shielding her face. Her battle axe swings for Min, but I halt its momentum with a surge of magic.

The fomorian scoffs as she readies for a second swing. “That magic is but a nuisance,” she calls out to me. “You’d better run while I face your shifter.”

Before she has a chance, I thrust the axe head backward over her shoulder. The shifted weight unbalances her, and Min barrels into her body.

“A nuisance,” I mock as Min pins the fomorian’s head down with a giant paw.

Min shifts back, her gray hand outstretched. “Axe.”

I float it to her. She cleaves through the assassin’s chest.

Dead within seconds.

Min wipes the blood off her face with her sleeve. She blinks innocuously, as though she’s just slain a stag.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side,” I tell her.

“I will remind you tomorrow, although the easiest way to accomplish that would be—” She freezes as a scream pierces the clamor of the distant fight. “Finnian.” Her black eyes widen just before she runs.

I sprint after Min as she tries every door. Rune’s office is locked. So is Maeve’s alchemy room. The training room door is open. We run in, but halt at the sight of Finnian pinned down. A dagger spears his gloved hand to the mat, blood pooling in his palm as his fingers twitch. A sword tip is leveled at his throat, held by a smirking female fomorian.

What makes my heart pound is Nikolai kneeling before Gashil in the center of the room. Blood soaks Nikolai’s gambeson around the blade that pierces his gut. His throat gurgles, and his dark eyes are glassy. Vacant.

Gashil withdraws his blade, and Nikolai falls prone.

Not Nikolai. My legs tremor with a surge of grief, his warm smile flashing through my mind like a taunt. In my gut, I know we can’t save him. We’re too late.

“Get out of here, Min!” Finnian yells.

She hefts the axe with grim determination in her eyes. “I will not. They will pay for killing our friend.” She throws it, and I give it the extra push it needs. But it’s still too heavy, too slow. Gashil easily sidesteps it, an amused smirk clear in his pale eyes.

Min shifts into the massive feline and lunges, but Gashil is quicker. He flings a dagger at her face.

I throw my hand out, halting it midair. I flip it. It soars on my command, straight at Gashil’s throat.

He catches it. “Is that all you’ve got?” His taunt rings through my skull.