“You were gone for almost seven months. A lot can change in that time. Even I was surprised. I knew what was happening but even I had no idea Arthur would actually take things as far as he has. A lot of business has gone down since he started, and he’s made a lot of progress, but there’s still a lot more to be done. The information he needs must be a lot more important than we know.”
“And the loyalty is apparently a lot harder to buy,” Red agreed before she looked back at the house across the alley. Her eyes trailed to stop at the single room still lit up despite the late hours of the night. Pacing within was her next target. And the hour to strike had finally come upon the two assassins.
“Do you want to go through the window or around the back?” Dranac asked, letting Red take the lead in their mission. His breath was still warm against Red’s ear, but a shiver of excitement ran through her as her mind turned back toward their objective.
“Window,” she immediately whispered back, receiving a light chuckle from Dranac Gnorw at her forwardness. “You go around the back and send the signal when you’re ready so we can get in at the same time. I’ve got the kill; you’ve got the search.”
“Gotcha, captain.”
“And don’t call me captain,” Red hissed before slipping from Dranac’s safe hands.
She caught the tail end of his replying laugh as she leapt from the roof. She spread her arms forward, throwing her cape outwards to catch herself before she reached out to grab the branches of the maple tree seated at the base of the house.
The old branches creaked under her hanging weight, but her grip held against the soft wood. Red swung her legs to the side, her left foot kicking out to catch on a node in the branch. The bark below her fingertips groaned in protest as she lifted herself into a sitting position.
Grabbing onto the branches above and beside her, Red slowly scooted herself closer to the edge of the target house. Red cringed at the rustling of the leaves, but she did not hesitate as she reached out toward the corner shingles of the roof.
Her hand connected with the rough material, her nails scraping against it as she hooked her legs around the pipe attached to the gutter, abandoning the tree. The branches scraped against the house, but there was no change in the movement of the pacing shadow within.
A soft bird call sounded from the roof she had just departed. Red sent the signal back, watching Dranac’s dark figure as he scrambled down the side of their scouting house with barely a sound. His feet landed silently in the dirt, his shoes scraping against his landing spot to erase his imprints. Red could barely focus on Dranac Gnorw’s swift figure as he sprinted out into the open night before disappearing around the other side of the mansion.
Red waited two minutes before moving into her own position on the roof above the lit window. She slowly turned her body to face the side Dranac waited on, her hands curling around the base of the gutter. At the sound of their final whistle, she swept her legs behind her, throwing her feet forward to collide with the waiting glass.
~~~
The middle-aged man hit the floor, already dying from the dagger piercing his heart, before he knew what hit him. His life magic faded quickly; his fear forever plastered on his paling face.
The iron tang of blood filled Red’s nostrils. Her own blood sang to the tune of the man’s last dying breaths. His large stomach still pressed against the buttons of his suit. Red tuned out the ragged breaths choking for air that would not make its way to the desperate lungs.
Red quickly kneeled next to the man, vial in hand, ready to collect his blood and return it to Arthur. She worked quickly, nearly sickened by the job that she had easily accomplished hundreds of times before. Red placed the cork in the bottle when she was finished, tucking it away before turning away from the body without another glance.
She silently sent up her prayer to the Maker, asking her to receive his soul and give the man the peace he deserved.
Red looked around the room in the dim light. Bookshelves lined every wall, touching the window and door frames with no more than a hair length between. The desk sat facing the double doors, the wood dingy with old age and in need of a new coat of polish. Papers lay across every surface of the desk, some falling to the floor as the night breeze swept across them. Everything about the room was unoriginal. No personal touches had made their way past the door.
A scream pierced the silence, making Red jump. Her elbow knocked over the candelabra that remained lit on the cluttered desk, shrouding the room in complete darkness. Red scrambled toward the desk, grabbing every paper she could feel in the dark to shove them inside the hidden pockets of her cloak.
Another scream erupted from the now sleepless house. The pounding of fists against walls and feet against the hardwood floors followed, sending Red into a frenzy as she tried to ready her escape.
Red shoved the last of the papers into her cloak, her knives palmed the moment Dranac Gnorw burst through the door. Red’s blades barely missed him as they were embedded in the bookshelf nearest the door. Two victim books fell from the extra weight, the blades slicing through the binding like butter as they tumbled to the ground.
Dranac barely blinked at his near-death experience, merely bending down to take the two knives before moving toward Red. His body was covered in blood, most of which Red hoped was not his. But his breath came in short pants, his whole body shaking with the adrenaline that coursed through every muscle.
“Time to go,” Dranac Gnorw rasped out, pulling Red’s arm toward the broken window, his boots crunching against the glass scattered around the floor. Red tried to pull out of his grasp, wishing to check him for injuries, but she knew that they would most likely be killed if they stayed any longer.
Her body changed its protesting course, and Red followed Dranac toward the window, already reaching for the windowsill.
Dranac’s hands immediately laced into a basket, his tall frame kneeling down despite the shards of glass surrounding him to place his hands under Red’s foot.
“Up you go,” he grunted, pushing Red onto the roof before following suit.
Red grappled against the shingles, bracing the hard soles of her boots against the gutter. She leaned over the edge of the roof, wrapping her hands around Dranac’s forearm.
With one grunting tug, Red pulled Dranac up from the window, their hands fumbling around as they tried to steady themselves while still hanging onto what they could on the roof. Dranac Gnorw slumped against Red, his heavy breathing rumbling against her body as he tried to calm the racing heartbeat that Red felt within her every bone.
Red wanted to just lie on the rooftop and rest, but her worries of getting caught overtook her need to breathe.
Red wrapped her arms around Dranac’s torso, tugging him away until his legs were no longer dangling precariously over the side of the roof. Her legs gave out from their combined weight on the steep slope just as Dranac’s boot scraped against the bottom shingle.
Red checked Dranac’s racing pulse, fearing that if she moved her hand away from his neck, that pulse would slow to a stop. To steady her own heartbeat, Red expertly ran her hands over Dranac’s ribs and abdomen, quickly checking for any wounds that she would have to mend before they could make their escape.
When Red went to check for a third time, Dranac Gnorw gave a bursting laugh. “I’m perfectly fine, Red”—he pushed her hands away—“but I am glad you actually care enough to take time out of our escape to check up on me.”
“If you’re fine then stop acting like you were stabbed a dozen times,” Red spat, annoyed that she wasted her own energy putting in the extra effort dragging his limp body across the roof. She pushed Dranac off her, his body slumping against the roof. “If you’re not hurt, then why do you even have blood on you? Your mission was to search.”
“Street lords have more than one agenda, Red,” Dranac replied with a shrug.
“And which agenda were you a part of?” Red demanded as she crawled toward the tree branches hanging over the roof.
Dranac Gnorw sighed, but he followed Red without hesitation. “The agenda that involved the kills that you wouldn’t make.”
At the quietness of his words, Red stopped her preparations to descend the tree and turned back to look at Dranac. There was a small but sad smile lining his lips, but his eyes gave away the real despair that he held. His shoulders were drooped, his body almost caving in.
“W-who?” Red rasped out, knowing what the answer would be but hoping that Dranac’s words would be completely different at the same time.
“I was approached separately by Arthur before we left the manor. He said the street lord had an addition to their agreement. He sent me personally because you already had your objective. There was really nothing else we could do, so I—”
“There’s always an alternative,” Red interrupted. “You still haven’t answered my question.”
“You already know what my answer is going to be, so why bother?” Dranac asked, beginning to crawl around Red, avoiding the truth that neither wanted to hear.
Red reached out to grab Dranac Gnorw’s arm, stopping him before he could jump onto the tree. “Why bother? That’s all you have to offer me? That’s all you have to offer that family?
“I’m not asking so you can confess all of your sins to me. I’m not asking because I don’t already know the reason why you don’t want to tell me. I’m asking because I need to hear it from you… without all the secrecy.
“I’m asking you because I’ll either get the truth from you or I will go back inside that house to learn what you did for myself. And that’s the last thing I want to do right now.”
“It won’t make a difference if I tell you,” Dranac countered, still trying to avoid making the confession that he knew Red would hold over him.
“It won’t make a difference even if you don’t. But I still need to hear it.”
Red’s grip never lessened as she waited for Dranac to answer her. Her hands shook as she waited for him to speak. The wind rushed around her ears, matching the pounding beat of her heart.
Dranac Gnorw loosened his arm from her strangling grip. His feet were braced in a crouched position, ready to leap into the tree. Red almost pulled him back to learn what she needed to hear, but she stopped dead as he stated solemnly, “It was his wife and three children. Two girls and a boy. The racket was from one of the girls running toward the roof. It was quick for all of them.”
Red pushed herself back from the tree, her breath catching in her throat. She looked back toward the broken window, considering going back inside the house to send their final prayers to the Maker.
Dranac gave her a withering look as he saw the consideration cross her face. “They’re dead, Red,” he stated quietly. “It doesn’t matter now.” He pulled four vials of blood from his tunic pocket as corrupted proof.
As his final, harsh words faded into the breeze, Dranac tucked the vials back into his pocket. He leapt from the roof, easily swinging onto the branches of the tree. He did not give Red time to even jump from the roof before he began his descent toward the ground.
Red just sat there stunned, barely registering the light tap of Dranac Gnorw’s boots on the cobblestone as he walked toward the nearest alleyway, leaving Red behind without a single glance back.
~~~
“How could you do that?” Red demanded as she burst through Arthur Welin’s study doors. She tossed the vial of blood she had collected onto his great desk. She had almost thrown it against the ground a dozen times on her trek back to the manor. Red had kept it, though, knowing that losing it would just force her further down the rabbit hole of trouble she had dug for herself.
“Which ‘that’ are you referring to?” Arthur returned blandly, not bothering to look up as the vial rolled across the papers spread atop his desk. He reached for his quill, slowly dipping it in the ink placed neatly in the only empty corner of his desk before setting it against the paper and scribbling a few notes along the margin.
Red snapped her left hand in his face, her right shooting out to snatch the quill from Arthur’s fingers. “Allowing a street lord to negotiate his loyalty with the deaths of four innocents.”
After Dranac left her behind, Red had gone back inside the victim’s house. She was horrified by the figure of the girl left at the top of the stairs. The sight of the rest of the family’s bodies was almost enough to make Red lose her dinner. But she had paid her respects, making sure that the Maker received each and every guilt filled prayer.
Thinking about what Dranac had done—what Arthur had sent him to do—made Red want to personally return the favor. And she did nothing to hide the hatred behind her eyes as she looked down at her mentor.
“Five. If you count the father, of course.” Arthur Welin replied with an irritated glare flicking between Red’s hate-filled face to his quill gripped in her clenched hand.
“Four. Five. What difference does it make? We do not kill children like a bunch of barbarians. Screw the streetscum loyalty!” The quill snapped in Red’s shaking palm. “How can we praise ourselves for protecting the poor and innocent from the rich and unjust and just turn around and kill the innocent anyway?”
Arthur leaned back in his cushioned chair, a small smile lighting up his dark face. His slim hands were clasped under his chin, index fingers tapping against his lips. He shook his head, his smile growing the longer he watched Red trembling with rage before his desk. Arthur Welin knew that all of her anger was channeled, ready to be thrown against anything he said.
Red’s mentor held his hands up, stopping every word that was prepared to come spewing out of Red before she even opened her mouth. He rose from his chair. His smile was a full grin as he came around the desk, leaning his toned body against the curved edge. His eyes were bright as he looked down at Red, but he just watched her intently.
He would easily forgive Red if she channeled that anger to wield her magic. Watching that darkness lash out was all he ever wanted from her.
Red clenched her jaw, knowing that she would willingly give into his wishes if she let her emotions get the better of her. Her mind was still screaming at her to say what she wanted, but she refused to let her anger boil over.
“I have spent decades creating everything that is before you here”—Arthur opened his arms to encircle the room when not even a spark of onyx fire came out of Red—“Decades have passed in what seemed like the blink of an eye when I look back to the beginning of the Kingdom Rogues.
“I have seen so many people come through our front door, ragged and beaten down. I have seen some with only their life magic tethering them to this world. But when those people walk through our halls, when they realize that their old lives have finally been left behind, I see a new spark added to rekindle their dying embers. And they burn brighter than they ever thought possible.”
Arthur paused, looking up with a small, wistful smile as if he were standing back in each of those moments for the first time again.
“Some of those people stay and join our ranks in their rightful places, doing the work that their very souls are calling them to complete. Others leave and restart their lives elsewhere. But I have not once come across someone who is not changed by what we do here. And I have never witnessed someone that has not embraced the very change that makes every living being connected to the Kingdom Rogues in some way. If I do recall correctly, I saw some of those changes in you the moment you truly earned a place amongst our ranks.”
Arthur Welin finally broke his memory filled gaze to fix his eyes on Red. His face was no longer lit up with pride for his prized pupil. Crossed arms and the beginning of a frown made the warmth of his speech turn cold and leaden in Red’s thoughts.
“I admire how strongly you hold onto the rules that were created to keep the Kingdom Rogues in line when this organization was formed. I admire your passion to keep your moral compass pointing as far north as you can manage with what you’ve done. You have never faltered. And you never lose sight of your objective�
��”
“Until now, you mean,” Red shot back with a venom-tipped tongue. “You mean to say that I never used to falter or lose sight of what I was sent to do.
“But now that I don’t agree that the street lords and prostitutes are necessary for the Kingdom Rogues to grow and thrive, I’m no longer living up to everyone's expectations.
“No. I’m no longer living up to your expectations”—Red pointed an accusatory finger in Arthur’s face—“I may no longer be the best of the best in your eyes, but I’ve survived this long without killing innocent children. You think you’re helping the Kingdom Rogues by getting information from the street lords. But their loyalty is nothing more than a backhand promise and an agreement signed on a beer stained piece of parchment.”
Arthur Welin rose from his perch on the edge of his desk to stand at his full height above her. His dark eyes were cold, and his words were merciless as he circled behind his desk with clenched hands. “You speak of loyalty as if your own is as strong as the sun’s rays and as immovable as the moon.”
Arthur leaned forward, his fists falling hard amidst the stacks of papers on the desk’s surface, sending the outermost pieces scattering to the ground. “You lie to yourself if you don’t realize that your own backhanded promise to protect and obey the order of the Kingdom Rogues was thrown out the window the moment you took the time to question my decisions for the betterment of this organization.
“Do remember that it was I who saved you from the life you ran away from to join our ranks. That it was I who welcomed you with open arms when you were just twelve years old. That it was I who took you under my wing because I knew you could do great things.”
“And it was I,” Red interrupted with a wave of her hand, “who gave every part of myself to the Kingdom Rogues just to please you. And it is I who is telling you right here, right now, that this is a mistake.”
Cloak of Darkness (The Destroyer-Blessed Saga Book 1) Page 18