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“As the owner of the property, I’d like to remind you all that trespassing is prohibited, especially when that trespassing involves threatening local humans with harm.”
Gunther suddenly became very interested in the pattern on the floor. It was, after all, how we met.
“I’ve installed a ward that alerts me to visitors. I’m not opposed to installing a more potent one if residents continue to ignore my request.”
Camryn burst into applause.
“I wasn’t finished yet,” I said, “but thank you.”
Her clapping slowed to silence.
“Mr. Sullivan, what is the punishment for disturbing the peace in Fairhaven? I assume there’s a provision in your bylaws that covers it.”
Kane adjusted his tie, appearing taken off guard by the question. “Yes, and the punishment is a hefty fine.”
“And what about property damage?”
Charles Diamond lifted his head. “There was no property damage!”
“You damaged my organic blueberries.”
Gun sucked in a breath. “Ooh, those are expensive.”
“Property damage also yields a fine,” Kane said. “The sum varies depending on the degree of damage.”
“Is there any punishment that results in worse than a fine?” I could tell Camryn had money to burn. I wasn’t sure about the other assassins, but it was possible the threat of a fine might not be sufficient to keep them in line.
“Obviously, if an assassin spills blood on Fairhaven land that results in death, the consequences are more severe,” Kane said.
“If you want to know the rules, why don’t you simply request a copy of them and read them in the comfort of your own home instead of disrupting our meeting?” Charles grumbled.
I smiled at the mage. “And miss the chance to see you again? Never.”
He could barely contain his rage. Charles seemed to suffer from an anger management issue, not a great quality in an assassin, unless killing his targets served as an outlet for his negative emotions.
“You heard our guest,” Kane said, raising his voice to be heard over the chatter. “No more trespassing on her property. I warned you about this already.”
Gun raised his hand. “According to my copious notes, Charles didn’t attend that meeting.”
“Thank you, guild secretary.” Kane nodded. “Everyone take note—if it happens again, there will be serious consequences.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sullivan.” I resumed a seated position, and the meeting commenced. It wasn’t as riveting as I expected. There was an agenda like any other organizational meeting, including comments from the treasurer about a bake sale to raise funds for new weapons. Alfonso and his wife, Judith, would do the lion’s share of the baking. His specialty was pumpkin bread and hers was gingerbread. The majority of the guild appeared to be mages, but I spotted at least one vampire in the mix. No werewolves, which didn’t surprise me. The local Arrowhead pack seemed like a tight-knit group, and I couldn’t imagine Weston Davies approving the inclusion of one of his wolves in a group of professional killers. His ethical line was far too straight and narrow.
A few assassins owed outstanding reports from recent jobs. One assassin was three months behind on his membership fees. Apparently, the guild was a big fan of paperwork.
After the meeting was adjourned, the members lingered for another round of drinks. Everybody was relaxed and sociable; I figured this was an ideal time to capitalize on my second reason for attending.
Assassins were experts in gaining access to hard-to-reach places in order to catch their victims unawares. Who better to consult about reentering the house on Thoreau Street?
I joined a cluster of assassins by the bar, including Gun, Cam, Alfonso, and one of the vampires I hadn’t met.
“How did you enjoy the meeting?” Alfonso asked.
“Surprisingly dull. I was hoping for more colorful details on the jobs you performed.”
The vampire scowled. “We don’t simply chop up our targets for the fun of it. There are rules.”
My head bobbed. “Ah, yes. The mysterious rules again.”
