Assassin's Mask

by Everly Frost

  If I can pull this off, it will be a strike that could break down Lady Tirelli’s foundations. It will make her vulnerable in a way she hasn’t been before.

  Then she will seek me out and I will end her.

  Briar ushers the clients out of the shop, but she remains behind for a moment, racing across the distance to me and surprising me with a hug.

  When she pulls back, her eyes are lit with a new fire. “Welcome home, Hunter.”

  Before I can do more than gasp at the warmth in what she said, she hurries out of the shop to see the clients on their way. For such a reserved lady, she gives the most amazing hugs. My heart fills with the trust she places in me.

  I turn to William, determination flowing through me, triggering my inner power. My back burns with it. “I’m taking down the Tirelli Family.”

  He grins. “Just like your mother tore down Patrick Ryan’s rivals.”

  Mom’s purpose was to help Patrick Ryan rise to the top of the underground.

  Mine is to tear it apart once and for all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  After an early breakfast that morning, William pushes his chair back and says, “There’s time before the shop opens.”

  I give his cryptic statement the puzzled response it deserves. “To do what?”

  He smiles. “For you to meet everyone who lives on Saber Lane. They’re looking forward to meeting you.”

  I slip a coat around my shoulders before we leave the shop. Our breath frosts in the air as we step outside. William takes me to the bakery first, telling me we should start there.

  He introduces me to the middle-aged couple who run the shop. They offer us coffee and freshly baked cupcakes that are smothered in bright pink and green icing. The entire atmosphere could be pulled from a 1950s movie. They both have the aura of fairies but when I ask them about it, they emphasize that their magic only manifests in their creativity, after which they show me the latest wedding cake they’ve made. By the time I leave the store I feel like I should be wearing a puffy dress and a big, yellow bow in my hair.

  Next, we visit the grocery store with the orange and cream checkered linoleum floor. The owner is a younger man who introduces himself as Christopher James. He has the aura of a dryad—a tree spirit—and he appears youthful, despite telling me he’s lived in Boston for fifty years. He manages to speak coherently around a wad of bubblegum, gesturing at the fluorescent green graffiti on the window as he asks, “Do you like it?”

  William grins broadly while I peer at the painting until I recognize that it’s a replica of my tattoo: a design that resembles an ‘A.’

  Christopher says, “This is your street now.”

  I say, “You don’t mind that I’ve claimed it?”

  “Hell, no. We’re protected now. The same way we were when your Mom was alive.”

  The Apothecary’s store is next, run by an elderly woman with starry eyes I could get lost in, as if her youth is somehow trapped inside her. Her aura is strong, a white glow all around her, but I can’t identify it. She shows me the rows of herbal medications that she says are good for treating all sorts of ailments from headaches to cuts and bruises.

  Then she glides to a cabinet at the side of the room and pushes it aside to reveal a set of hidden shelves. My jaw drops. I recognize all the poisons I learned about while I was training in the Realm.

  She winks. “You can come here for all your medicinal needs, dearest. We have everything you could possibly want. And if we don’t have it, we can get it.”

  I grin at her. “Thank you. I will.” I can’t leave the shop without asking, “Forgive me, but I can’t identify your aura.”

  She winks at me, her long lashes resting against her cheek for a moment. “I’m a will-o'-the-wisp. You can call me ‘Willow.’”

  William nudges me when we continue to the end of the street. “You’ll like the next one just as much.”

  I’ve never ventured this far along Saber Lane. There are only a few shops back here, but right at the back is a building painted black on the outside. As we approach, a large man pushes open the wide doors of the building situated furthest back, sliding them open to reveal…

  A dojo.

  The glint of steel winks at me from the back wall where multiple weapons are housed.

  I break into another grin. This morning is full of pleasant surprises.

  The man folds his arms across his broad chest. He reminds me of Ridley: straight-backed, stern features, forbidding. Definitely no-nonsense. He wears black training gear, pulled tight across powerful arms and thighs. His eyebrows draw down into a scowl as we approach.

  “This is Drake,” William whispers. “He’s all human. Don’t be deceived by his unwelcoming act. He’s a big softy. He teaches kids self-respect and young women self-defense.”

  I bow low when I reach Drake’s position, deciding to be up front about what I want. “May I train with you?”

  Drake breaks into a smile and spreads his arms wide, angling to indicate the side of the dojo. A katana sword rests proudly on a display stand.

  Drake says, “It would be an honor. I open these doors every morning at six. Classes don’t start until seven. The space is yours until then.”

  My heart lightens and I promise to be back tomorrow.

  When Drake heads back inside the dojo, a nasty scar is visible across the back of his neck, stretching beneath the neckline of his shirt. It’s broad enough that I’m surprised he survived it.

  William murmurs to me as we walk, “Many of the inhabitants of Saber Lane were once running from danger. They found safety here, the same way your mother did, among those who are willing to protect each other.”

  “Is that why Tansy struggles to accept me?”

  William gives me a sad nod. “It’s one reason. She sees you as a threat—someone who could tear down the protective environment we’ve worked hard to create here.”

  I say, “I promise you, I won’t.”

  “I know, Hunter. Give Tansy time. She’ll see it, too.”

  We end up outside the Diner where Dean waits, shivering in the cold. “Come on in,” he says. “I’ll make you a cup of cocoa.”

  I’m not sure I can eat anything more after the coffee and cake I consumed at the bakery, which was on top of the hearty breakfast I had at William’s, but Dean appears to have something on his mind.

  He says, “William, may I have a few minutes alone with Hunter?”

  “Of course, I’ll go to Tansy’s to see how she is this morning.” William smiles before he takes his leave.

  As I follow Dean to the counter, I’m glad he looks better than he did last night. He busies himself behind the worktop, quietly pouring out a single cup of hot chocolate, sprinkling it with chocolate powder.

  I nurse the warm drink in my hands, unable to stand his silence any longer. “It’s about last night, isn’t it? Something was wrong.”

  He pauses in the middle of wiping the table top, his eyes filled with deep concern. “There’s no easy way to say it, Hunter, but I sense a dangerous shift in Slade.”

  I stiffen. Rowan described Slade as different now and when I first encountered him yesterday he was far more ruthless toward Vlad than I expected.

  I’m afraid to know the answer but I ask, “What kind of shift?”

  Dean says, “The Valkyrie and human forces inside him are at war. His internal battle is like a gale force wind. One minute it pulls; the next it pushes. He is becoming very powerful, but if he steps down the wrong path, he could become your worst nightmare.”

  I shiver so hard my drink sloshes. Fallon’s illusion yesterday revealed two opposing sides of Slade: the murderous one and the one that tried to protect me.

  Dean quickly wipes up the spill and levels his gaze with mine. “You have the power to determine which path Slade chooses.”

  I ask, “What can I do?”

  “He may not want you around, but he needs you, Hunter. You have to teach him how the Valkyrie power can coexist with his
humanity.”

  Frustration rises inside me. “I can’t get close to him. He won’t let me.”

  Dean grabs my hand, compelling me to listen. “You can’t give him a choice. For everyone’s sake. Otherwise, Lady Tirelli and all her thugs will seem like butterflies compared to the sledgehammer that Slade will become.”

  The chocolate dust on my cocoa disappears beneath the surface, sinking like my heart. “I’ll try.”

  Dean strokes my hand. “I feel everything you feel, Hunter. Your heart is broken, you’re afraid of your emotions, and Slade is like a wall, thousands of feet high and thousands of feet wide that you can’t get through. He stands behind a mask now. You have to break through it.”

  “How, Dean? Please tell me how?”

  His thumb grazes my wrist, a gentle stroke before he breaks the contact. “You know how.”

  “I really don’t—”

  Brisk footsteps interrupt us. Tansy appears in the Diner doorway with Vlad close behind her. They look fresh and well-rested despite their ordeal the night before.

  I swiftly paste a smile on my face. “Good morning.”

  Vlad sees through my facade in two seconds flat, his eyes narrowing, but he remains silent. I slide off the bar stool before either of them can ask any questions. “Sorry to leave right away, but I need to visit the Guardian.”

  Vlad breaks into a grin. “You have clients?”

  I smirk, remembering Briar’s hug. It was one of the good things that happened this morning. “A few.”

  “And the targets?”

  “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  He side-eyes me. “Let me know if you need help.”

  I scoff as I pass by. Tansy gives me a nod. She seems more relaxed today and it occurs to me that with both Vlad and me in residence, Saber Lane has never been safer.

  I chance a smile in her direction before I head back to the bookshop to change, opting for comfortable clothes—my usual jeans and a sleeveless shirt. But I also pull my favorite red leather jacket from my backpack. It was one of the few indulgent items I brought back from the safe house. It’s a deep, dark color that brings out the highlights in my mahogany hair and matches my ankle-high boots. It also has specially cut slits in the back so I can release my wings without any problems. I can run, fight, basically do anything in these boots and this jacket. It’s good to wear my own clothes again.

  I blur myself completely on the steps to the bookshop before I release my wings, silver feathers spreading and bracing against the cold. Heat rushes through my body as my power spreads. My recovery from the day before is complete. I sigh with relief to know that my power is back.

  I take the quickest route to the Guardian’s hotel, landing in the alley behind the hotel, gliding to my feet and tucking away my wings. My plan is to use the staff entrance and remain blurred until I reach the Guardian’s room. That way, nobody will know I came here. I can’t assume that Lady Tirelli’s people aren’t watching the hotel.

  I step into the shadows to wait for someone to use the entrance so I can follow them inside.

  Ten minutes later, a perky-looking blonde strides up to the door, swipes her access card, and shoves it wide open. I step close to her and glide in behind.

  Oomph! Someone pushes in behind me and the speed I need to use to get out of their way nearly catapults me into the young woman’s back. I quickly side-step and press myself flat against the corridor wall, observing the man who followed me in.

  He is quiet. Stealthy. He is also packing two guns and a knife.

  The girl senses his presence and squeaks when she sees him.

  He snarls at her, “Relax, honey. I’m not here for you. But if you tell anyone you saw me, I’ll come for your family. You got me?”

  He taps the gun at his waist.

  “Y-yes.” She hurries away along the corridor, casting fearful glances back at him.

  He’s none other than Enric Tirelli, the youngest brother. He’s blond, wearing black pants and a black shirt. Before Mom died, the Tirelli Family was a mere blip on the horizon but in the last four years, they’ve grown far too powerful.

  Enric shifts both guns to the back of his pants and swaggers along the corridor. I could take him out right now. My hands twitch and my power surges, but I restrain myself.

  I need to hit all three brothers at the same time. Otherwise, they’ll go to ground, fortify their defenses, and my task will become a thousand times harder. Not to mention, the risk of collateral damage will increase. Besides, the whole reason I’m here is to ascertain whether the missions are sanctioned. Until I have the Guardian’s personal word on it, I can’t do anything.

  The smart thing is to plan and wait.

  I follow Enric through the kitchen area, maintaining my blur as he strides along the corridor and into the service elevator. I duck in with him moments before the doors close.

  My eyes narrow as he hits the button for the same level as the Guardian. The hairs on the back of my neck prickle. That can’t be a coincidence.

  I stand clear as he leans against the polished mirror adorning the top half of the elevator. He lights up a cigarette, takes two deep puffs, and when the elevator stops, he steps out and stubs the cigarette into the top of a glossy hall table, burning a circle in its surface.

  At the same time, two male staff members pass by dressed in hotel uniforms. They’re carrying fresh towels.

  But neither of them calls Enric out about damaging hotel property. A closer inspection tells me they’re both armed, guns peeking out of the backs of their waistbands.

  Not hotel staff after all.

  It can’t be a coincidence that they’re here. Fallon said Lady Tirelli would go after all my friends. I guess she’s starting at the top.

  Any doubt I had about Enric’s intentions disappears.

  He’s here for the Guardian.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Enric stops outside the Guardian’s door, knocking briskly and calling out, “Room service.”

  The men swiftly drop the towels they were carrying to reveal another gun each, complete with silencers. They’re ready to fire as soon as the Guardian opens the door.

  My blood boils. As a Valkyrie, I could smoke all of these assholes right now. But as an assassin, I’m not allowed to kill them without sanction. Of course… that doesn’t mean I can’t hurt them.

  Movement further down the corridor catches my attention. Two more thugs appear up ahead and three appear behind. They’re guarding each end of the corridor in case the Guardian tries to escape.

  That makes eight men in total.

  Fine by me.

  I slam into the nearest one standing outside the Guardian’s door and snatch his weapon at the same time, using it to whack him in the face. He jolts backward with a shout, flailing because he can’t see what hit him and what’s more, he can’t see his weapon anymore. I’ve blurred it with me.

  Enric and the other man jump backward, shock flashing across their faces. I snatch the other guy’s gun right out of his startled fingers, bending both weapons at once, rendering them useless before I drop them to the ground.

  To their eyes, their damaged weapons fall out of thin air and clatter to the floor.

  Enric is quick to figure out what’s going on, shouting, “It’s an assassin!”

  He backs up, pressing against the wall. He’s smart, I’ll give him that. In that position, he’s assured that I can’t creep up behind him.

  He calls out, “Shoot anywhere except at each other!”

  Also smart. I may be invisible but bullets can still hurt me. Well, they would if I were completely human.

  A snarl grows on my lips.

  I dart around the two men I disarmed, snatching the backup weapons tucked in their pants. They’re in the middle of trying to move against the wall like Enric did but my movements jolt them around. I quickly bend those weapons too, hurling them one after the other at the guys’ heads. Smack-smack. They don’t have time to dodge the weapons that materialize b
efore their eyes. One shouts and grabs his forehead and the other his jaw where I landed direct hits. Instead of bracing against the wall like they should, they launch themselves at the space where I was, trying to hit me.

  I’ve made them mad.

  Keeping them near me means the others won’t shoot. For now.

  I spin and whirl, moving rapidly, narrowly avoiding their meaty fists before I land a follow up kick to one guy’s chest and two hard fists to the other’s. I put all my strength behind the blows, breaking each of their ribs as they fly backward to land, groaning, on the corridor floor.

  I keep running. Every time I touch one of them, the others know where I am so I have to move fast. Two quick, quiet bullets hiss past my shoulder, close enough to tell me that Enric may be an asshole, but he’s an intuitive shot. His reputation as a marksman is not undeserved.

  I won’t be able to disarm him as easily as the others.

  I need to get rid of the thugs at the end of the corridor or I won’t be able to get the Guardian out of here. So far, she hasn’t opened her door. No doubt, Enric’s shout has warned her to stay in her room. Not to mention, those big guys made a lot of noise when they fell over.

  I race down the corridor, landing two quick kicks to the downed men’s heads, knocking them out as I pass by. The corridor is too narrow for me to release my wings properly, so I run at the thugs blocking the fire stairs. Another two bullets whiz past me and I zigzag as fast as I can to dodge them.

  I’m not so lucky with the next two. They hit me full in the chest. I duck and roll, drawing on my strength to keep moving, but now my inner power rages inside me. Pain triggers all sorts of cold intentions. I knocked out the first two guys after soft breaks to their ribs, but I’m done being nice.

  I smash into both guys at the end of the corridor, partially releasing my wings at the same time to give me height. My boot crunches one of them in the face, shattering his jaw. I use my momentum to backflip and land right in front of the other one, shoving his gun aside as it goes off, the silenced bullet lodging in the ceiling above us, before I grab his arm, snap the bone, and force him to his knees. He’s screaming but the sound barely registers in my hearing.