The Reluctant Assassin Boxset

by Thomas K. Carpenter

  "I needed you back here," said the Goon, jaw clenching and unclenching. "My standing with the Lady has moved from difficult to a moth in a shredder. I haven't left the compound in weeks."

  "If she sends the Watchers in after you, there's nothing I can do," said Zayn.

  "Then why the hell did you go to the Halls? I need protection," said the Goon as he paced, keeping his hand on the amulet.

  "You're still not telling me what's going on. And I never went there for protection. I went to the Halls so we could run bigger scams," said Zayn.

  "Well, you should have," said the Goon.

  "Easy, man," said Zayn, holding his hands out. "I'm your friend. I'm on your side."

  "Are you?" asked the Goon angrily.

  "I nearly died at the Academy, like multiple times, so I could come back here and support you. And now you're freaking out, not telling me anything about anything, and worried that the Lady is out for you. What happened?" asked Zayn.

  The Goon's expression broke, and Zayn thought for a moment he might cry. "I'm sorry, Zayn. You're right. But I haven't slept in days. I'm just a little paranoid, I guess. I thought you might have betrayed me."

  The Goon took his hand off the amulet, which allowed Zayn to relax. He knew a spell that would hide him from the amulet, but he wasn't sure if the Goon could detect it, so he had to do it the hard way, the same as he'd done with Mean Clovis.

  "Want me to grab you a drink?" asked Zayn. "I know where you keep the good stuff."

  The Goon took his hand off the pistol, slipped the straw hat from his head, and waved air over it with the hat. "I'll get it. Do you want one?"

  "Not too much. I'm still a lightweight," said Zayn. "And where are Jordan and Barkley? I was expecting a greeting."

  "Down below sleeping. Aren't there spells for hangovers?" asked the Goon as he left the room.

  It was strange that the hounds weren't upstairs. Normally the dogs kept the same hours as the Goon, though he guessed they were getting older and might need more sleep.

  Zayn yelled down the hallway. "They're sometimes worse than the cure."

  The kitchen was on the other side of the ranch, which would give Zayn a few moments to snoop around. He darted into the game room where the basketball arcade games were located. As soon as he saw the logo, he knew the symbol had been derived from it. But that didn't mean the Goon was behind the Alpha drug. He needed more proof.

  He stuck his head into the gun shop. There was nothing there that suggested the Goon had been manufacturing drugs. He really needed to get into the lower levels. But there was no time for that.

  Zayn opened the cabinets beneath the counter where the reloading press was located. He was about to close it when he noticed something in back.

  It felt like the Goon was going to walk back in at any moment. He couldn't have taken that long to pour a couple of glasses of whiskey, and Zayn didn't have a good reason why he was snooping through his cabinets.

  He reached into the back of the cabinet and pulled out a stack of baggies, bound with a rubber band. They had the upside-down Y symbol printed on them.

  As soon as the Goon's link to the drug was confirmed, Zayn realized what the yellowish liquid was that had been in the glassware in the warehouse. The Lady's poison. It was the same stuff they had to take at the Ceremony. Everyone knew if you were going to leave Varna for an extended period, you could get some poison from the Goon for a short trip. It was assumed that the Goon had permission from the Lady. But maybe he'd found another use for it.

  "Where'd you go?" asked the Goon from the next room, startling Zayn, who dropped the baggies on the floor and kicked them under the center table with his boot.

  The Goon strolled in with a glass in each hand, amber liquid swirling around fat ice cubes. His forehead hunched with concern.

  "What are you doing in here?" asked the Goon.

  "Killing time," said Zayn, putting a smile on while he hoped he'd kicked the baggies to a place the Goon couldn't see. "It feels like it's different in here, but I can't figure out why."

  Zayn glanced around at the walls, trying to keep the Goon from looking down.

  The Goon gave a long pause, then his forehead relaxed and he nodded towards the wall. "Painted it light yellow, rather than that ugly gray. Read it was a soothing color. Helps me shoot better since I'm more relaxed."

  "Good call," said Zayn, reaching out to take the smaller glass of whiskey.

  They clinked them together.

  The Goon said, "To a successful first year in the Hundred Halls."

  "To bigger and better schemes," said Zayn.

  He threw back a mouthful of the whiskey, trying not to spit it back out when the burn hit his throat.

  The Goon chuckled while he wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

  "Whew, that burned," said Zayn, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "You know, I'm tired. I kept regular hours at the Halls, so I'm pretty wiped. I just came by to check in with you, let you know I'm back. Had to sneak out, as usual."

  "When you come back for good, you're going to have to let them know," said Goon, clearly disappointed.

  "They know," said Zayn, "and I will. It's about time."

  Zayn moved towards the passage that led to the front door. The Goon made a noise that made Zayn pause mid-stride.

  "I thought you wanted to know what happened with the Lady," said the Goon.

  "Oh, yeah, I did, but like I said, I'm tired," said Zayn, letting his mouth arch into a fake yawn.

  "That ain't like you," said the Goon. "What's going on? Why did you come over here?"

  "It's official," said Zayn. "You and me both need sleep. You, clearly more than me. Look, I'll be back tomorrow. We can talk more about it. We got a whole summer to make plans, and whatever happened with the Lady, we can fix that together."

  The Goon stared back. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I'll get some sleep. You want me to drive you back?"

  "Nah, I'll be good," said Zayn, shoving his hands in his pockets.

  His chest started to relax as he got closer to the door, especially when he heard the Goon rattling the ice in his glass. At the moment his hand touched the door, a fateful click sounded behind him.

  A gun was being pointed at him.

  "Don't you waggle a finger or I'll put a hole the size of Kansas in your chest," growled a voice he'd never expected to hear again. "Now turn around."

  He was face-to-face with Levi, the shape-shifter he thought of as Patchy that had evaded him at the warehouse. Hearing the noises, the Goon came into the room and immediately pulled his gun, also pointing it at Zayn.

  "What's going on?" asked the Goon.

  "This is the bastard that ruined our operation in Invictus," said Levi. "So where can we take him so I can put a bullet in his head?"

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Varna, May 2014

  An unexpected visitor

  The Goon seemed to process this new information with exceeding calm, as if he didn't believe it. The gun, however, stayed trained on Zayn.

  "Him? You know him? Zayn?" asked the Goon.

  Levi nodded feverishly. "Him and a bunch of mages showed up to the warehouse, killed Sandy, ruined the whole operation."

  The Goon pushed his straw hat back. "But he was in the Academy, studying to be an assassin. I helped him get into the Halls. He works for me."

  "I…I...I didn't know that," said Levi, suddenly nervous. "But it was him. I robbed a bodega, and he was working there. He had a Jamaican accent then. Worked for this old Jamaican guy."

  "That true?" asked the Goon.

  "The bodega, yeah, I worked there. It was part of my training," said Zayn, trying to find the right amount of indignation. "Why is he here? And why is he pointing a gun at me? I don't know anything about a warehouse, but he killed my girlfriend, strangled her. I chased him off a roof, don't know how he survived."

  The Goon pointed his gun at Levi. "This true? You kill his girlfriend?"

  "No, I mean, yes. I didn't
know it was his girlfriend. She stole some Alpha from us. I had to show her. I had to," whined Levi. "But it was him in the warehouse. I know it. Him and his mage buddies. Academy, I guess. They came in and wrecked the place."

  The Goon looked back and forth between them. He placed his hand on the amulet, and came away as if he'd been burned.

  "Put the gun down, Levi," said the Goon. "At least until I figure this out. I don't know who's lying to me, but one of you is. Remember, I know people at the Academy, so if you were involved, Zayn, come clean right now."

  "I'm sorry," said Zayn. "I didn't know it was your warehouse. I was just after revenge."

  "Damn, Zayn. Damn it all to hell," said the Goon as he threw his straw hat against the wall. He pointed the gun back at Zayn. "You might not have meant to do that, but that screwed me. I needed the money from that batch to keep things hush-hush. But now I got nothing, and the bill is coming due."

  Levi lifted his gun. He had a sickening smile on his face. Zayn imagined it was the same look Levi had when he was strangling Katie.

  "I don't understand," said Zayn. "What was that drug? Does it have something to do with the Lady?"

  Zayn knew the answer before Goon replied, but he didn't want to give away that he'd been in the warehouse to stop the drug rather than for revenge. Revenge was something the Goon might understand.

  "I used the poison, along with a few other special ingredients"—the Goon smiled at Levi—"to whip it up. It's taken me damn near twenty years to figure it out, and it still ain't all the way right."

  "It has something to do with magic?" asked Zayn.

  "Thereabouts," said the Goon. "Why do you think everyone from Varna who has a lick of magic can use it without going mad? It's because we've been sucking down her poison in small doses since we were born. We've been inoculated. Like the smallpox."

  "You've been paying off Watchers to collect more for you," said Zayn. "First for trials, then for production. That's what those boxes were so many years ago when I first started working for you. You were routing the supplies around the country, to people like Sandy, getting them back from the Watchers who you turned, without the Lady finding out. That's why you're so paranoid—you knew that if she ever found out, it would be bad. Really bad."

  "I always knew you were the smart one," said the Goon with a trace of sadness. "Unfortunately, I will no longer be able to use your services. One, on account of your interference creating this difficult situation for me, and two, I need someone to blame it on."

  "Can I shoot him now? Or do we have to find a place he won't make a mess?" said Levi, quivering with excitement.

  "Shut up, Levi. We're not shooting him now. I might need him alive, just long enough to convince the Lady that him and his family—who everyone knows has no love for the Lady—that they were behind the scheme," said the Goon.

  Zayn knew in his gut that the Goon could do such a thing. There were always potions and spells to bend someone to your will, and the Goon had the resources. And it wouldn't be hard for the Lady and her Watchers to believe whatever the Goon conjured up because of what happened with his dad and Uncle Jesse.

  "I'm worth way more to you alive," said Zayn. "We can fix this with the Lady. I swear I can think of something."

  The Goon nodded with a resolution that made Zayn's stomach turn over. "No, I'm sorry. I cannot see another way around this. I can't come up with the money in time, so I'm going to need a scapegoat."

  "But if they already know you're the one behind the drug, how is that going to help you?" asked Zayn.

  "Because they don't know it's me," said the Goon. "They just know someone has been buying it up, and that that someone hasn't paid their debts. My spies in the Lady's court have told me that the problem has grown large enough they've paid a Hall mage to track me down. So, like I said, it's a matter of time. Which means I need to get scheming, and I can't do that if I'm worried about you."

  He reached into a pocket and pulled out what looked like a bottle of pepper spray. He flipped the lid off with a thumb.

  "I'm sorry, Zayn. You were a good kid. I'll try and make this as painless as possible."

  Zayn flooded his imbuement with faez in an attempt to sprint past them, but the Goon sprayed him in the face with a sweet liquid that turned the lights out. Zayn took two steps and crashed into the couch headfirst.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Varna, July 2007

  The price we pay for family

  Zayn ran through the woods like the world was on fire, branches whipping his arms and legs, but he didn't slow down. He ran for a quarter mile before he stopped behind an oak tree, staring through the trees to see if they'd followed him.

  He could barely contain his breath; it came in great heaves. He wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead. His shirt was soaked through, but that was the Alabama summer. With a black walnut in hand, Zayn kept watch for the other kids. Him and Keelan had made a surprise attack, but when reinforcements had come, Zayn knew it was time to beat feet.

  But as he stared back through the dense trees, he couldn't hear or see anyone.

  "Shit, Zayn. You ran right out of the game," he said, laughing.

  He'd run so far the screams of kids throwing black walnuts had been swallowed by the forest. For all he knew, the game could have ended, or moved further east.

  He took the culvert that went behind the Castlewood trailer park. While he'd been running, the skies had taken on a gloomy cast. Zayn smelled a storm, but he relished it rather than feared it. He could use a bath.

  He realized the storm had ended the game, so he cut back through the park towards Keelan's trailer. His cousin was probably already there, sitting at the counter with a giant glass of lemonade so sour it'd curl hair.

  Booming thunder right over the trailer park startled Zayn, followed by a torrential downpour. Raindrops the size of robin eggs drilled into the gravel, throwing milky mud against his ankles.

  He was about to cut around the corner, when he realized a black SUV sat out front.

  As Zayn ducked behind the trailer a scream sounded from inside, loud enough to overcome the pounding of rain. Zayn pulled himself up to the window.

  Aunt Lydia had her arms pinned to her side by a Watcher while the Speaker with her cobra-like blonde coif held a long fingernail to her throat like a weapon.

  "Tell us what your husband did," said the Speaker, "and I will show mercy."

  Through tear-soaked rage, Lydia shouted back, "I don't know anything, and if I did I wouldn't tell you."

  "Now, dearie, that wasn't a very smart thing to say," said the Speaker. "Tell us what Jesse did. Tell us, girl. The alternatives are much worse."

  "I told you," said Lydia, quivering as if her soul had been struck with a tuning fork, "I don't know. He's been out for weeks. He said he was working for you all, but I guess that ain't been true."

  The Speaker lunged towards Aunt Lydia like a snake striking. Zayn couldn't see what she did, but his aunt screamed so loud he wasn't sure how she wasn't dead already.

  But whatever the Speaker had done subsided quickly, and Lydia was left heaving and crying. Every inch of Zayn shook with impotent rage. Tears streaked down his cheeks as he watched the Speaker step close to his aunt.

  "Tell me, Lydia. Tell me something. I believe you that he didn't tell you nothing, but I know you're a smart girl. Give me a boon to take back to the Lady. She's quite cross right now. It would be a salve to her injuries to have some knowledge of how it was done. Do you ken anything? Something you might have noticed or heard? Did he keep company with anyone else? A neighbor? Your sister or her husband?"

  Zayn's heart caught in his throat. He'd seen his dad and Uncle Jesse at the junkyard with Doc. He thought they'd been planning new additions to the Stack, but this new revelation left him shaking. He nearly burst away from the trailer to get back home and warn his family—not that it would do them a lick of good—but he stayed, only because his muscles refused to move on their own.

  Aunt Lydi
a opened her mouth once, twice, three times, before finally speaking with a resolute sadness. "Nobody. I ain't seen him talk with nobody. Like I said, I thought he was working for you, working for the Lady. I thought we were moving up in the world. If he was doing something wrong, I don't know what it is, but I am terribly sorry."

  "I believe you, girl, I do," said the Speaker as she patted her arm. "But I gotta take something, just the same. Hold her."

  To his aunt's credit, she didn't scream or fight. She stood like a statue, staring mutely back at the Speaker as she weaved complex shapes in the air. The scent of faez was rich in the air as it mixed with the storm's musk.

  Zayn didn't know what to expect when the Speaker struck his aunt with her hand, but the blow severed her aunt's arm cleanly, like popping a doll's arm out of its socket. Aunt Lydia collapsed to the floor of the trailer, not a sound.

  The shock forced an exhalation from Zayn's lips. The Watcher's head bobbed up. Zayn dropped from the edge and went running, through the park and down the culvert, wading through the calf-high water surging from the storm.

  He ran until he couldn't see through the tears. When he stopped, the world closed around him as if he'd been cinched up in a sack of verdant leaves. Amid the trees, the storm sounded like it was happening somewhere else. The slow patter on the canopy washed away the world.

  He wasn't paying attention when someone reached out and grabbed him. Zayn nearly struck his attacker, until he realized it was Keelan.

  "Where you been, cuz?" asked Keelan, then noticing his face, "What happened?"

  The words tumbled from his lips in a flood. When he got to the part about Lydia's arm, Keelan made a move towards the trailer park, but Zayn stopped him.

  "They might still be there," he said.

  "But they took her arm! I've got to get to her," said Keelan.

  "If they wanted her dead, there's nothing you or I could have done," said Zayn. "The spell the Speaker used made it so they took it cleanly, like it'd never been connected at all."

  "Why? Why would they do that?"

  "Something that happened with your dad," said Zayn, pacing because he couldn't hold it in much longer. "It sounds bad. Really bad."