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“What’s your name, handsome?”
A wariness swept through me. Perhaps she was one of Prince Lennox’s assassins. A poorly trained one. Fuck. It offended me if he thought this girl could break me.
“Your name.” She sang the words, and the magic of her voice hummed over my skin like static electricity that caused hair to rise on my arms. The moment I’d woken from her spell, I’d raised my wards that I’d foolishly dropped because I assumed they weren’t needed in human territory. So her compelling powers wouldn’t work now.
She was a siren.
How?
How were there sirens in Landre? All magical beings lived under the authority of the different fairy courts. I didn’t know of any sirens that were approved to live here. Fae had an agreement not to roam the human lands anymore. It was illegal. A rule I technically broke, but I had the Maharani’s approval and wouldn’t be here for long.
So it made no fucking sense that I sat here looking into the face of a siren so beautiful she could have divinity in her bloodline as her magic rippled against my wards.
That answered why she had poor training in weapons. Her song was the only weapon she needed. She obviously didn’t sense the defensive wards I’d lifted around myself that trembled as they pushed back against the gentle breath of her powers. A stronger note, though, and they wouldn’t hold without me dipping deep into my magic.
She shifted forward, the soft waves of her hair curling over her long neck as her pale skin drifted into shadows. Her expression held a wariness and the sharp edge of appraisal, but it didn’t take away from her allure, the thick line of her lips, the gentle curves of her body that a lace dress followed. Her outfit was the opposite of the drab garb most Landre humans wore, and it fit her expertly.
Oh, Goddess slay me.
She didn’t know how to wield a knife, but she was deadly and beautiful.
A potent combination.
My type—were I honest—and I felt a tinge of that pull towards her, but I had a bigger mission at hand, friends waiting for me, the Maharani relying on me, siblings hoping to see me soon. I didn’t have time for this.
“Who are you working for? Torture me as you wish, but I’ve been well trained, lady assassin.” Her magic may compel me to do many things but give up my secrets it would not. I’d spent my entire life training against that.
Oh, the way my family would heckle me if they got wind of this, though.
She crossed her arms and allowed the blade to hang by her elbow like a deadly piece of jewelry. “All I want is what people call you. You have one of those, don’t you?”
She only wished for my common name—not my true name? I’d assumed she’d known I was magical like her and wanted the deeper secrets I held. My head swam. Perhaps her song had addled me. I finished unknotting the rope but kept my hands tucked back against the grainy chair. “Sai.”
She thrust the butt of the knife against her chest. “I’m Lira.”
Bats flew past the window and streaked over the navy sky becoming slashes of ebony against the waxing moon. I only had a few weeks left. I didn’t have time for interruptions like this.
My voice grew hard. “Who sent you after me?”
She teetered the knife between her fingers. “What are you talking about?”
I narrowed my eyes. There was no torment in any level of hell that would compel me to give away my mission. Maybe she was cleverer than I’d acknowledged and acted the fool to see what I might offer. Okay. Enough. The chair clattered as I dropped the ropes behind me, jumped to my feet, and pulled one of my knives out. Unlike her, I knew how to use it. I threw, and the blade sliced the edge of her sleeve, slicing through a bit of lace before it slammed into the wall.
Her eyes widened as she took an uncertain step back and bumped into the table. The oil lamp on it wobbled, oscillating loops of gold over the plank ceiling.
I crossed the room, holding another blade pointed at her as I raised the window.
Second story and no balcony.
Well, I’d gotten out of worse spots plenty of times. I slid a leg out and tested the texture of the siding. Perhaps I could—
“Please,” Lira whispered. She held the butt of her knife between the flat of her palms, the tip pointed towards the floor, like she prayed with it or wished me goodbye or both. She stared at me like I was her last hope. I knew about desperation, hopelessness, not knowing who you could trust. It was part of what had me traveling through human territory at the moment.
I slid my leg back inside.
Damn it. What the hell was I doing?
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d allowed a handsome face to lead me to distraction. The job we were on currently needed relentless focus. But…
