Assassin's Mask

by Everly Frost

  I slam a fist into his temple to knock him unconscious. His screaming stops.

  The three guys at the other end of the corridor leap into action, running toward their fallen colleagues—they know it’s my last location—firing a barrage of bullets. Projectiles stream toward me and there’s no way I can avoid them all.

  Damn this narrow corridor.

  I use my wings to dart upward, bullets biting across my torso, managing to glide several feet above the onslaught, but the width of the corridor defeats me. I can’t expand my wings wide enough to stay aloft.

  I’m forced to drop to the floor through another shower of bullets and press myself flat against the floor—under the stream of projectiles. The corridor walls now bear a multitude of bullet holes. And… so do I.

  What’s worse, I’m bleeding. My leather jacket will hide the blood so long as nobody stares at me too long, but pressing against the floor has left smears on it. As soon as I stand up, my attackers will see the blood and know exactly where I am.

  I count the hits I took: five bullets in addition to the first two. Three of them are lodged inside me.

  My blood pumps, my power surges, and I stand up and run.

  They’re still firing at me when I slam into them right outside the Guardian’s door. My fists and feet are a blur. Five rapid hits to one guy’s chest and face, four to the next, then I grab the head of the third and ram him into the wall, breaking through the plaster.

  Enric creeps up behind me but I kick back at him, knocking him down. A click tells me that the Guardian just unlocked her door.

  Not now!

  Just as I spin to dispatch Enric, the Guardian leaps from her open door, lands a punch to his surprised face, follows it with a roundhouse kick, and lands right on top of him as he falls. She knocks him out with a fist adorned with a set of golden knuckledusters.

  She came prepared.

  I stare at her in surprise until I remember that she can’t see me.

  I take a moment to count my wounds.

  Ten.

  Ten bullet wounds. Six lodged.

  I breathe out the pain, reminding myself that it won’t kill me, and materialize so the Guardian knows it’s me.

  Her eyes widen. “Hunter!”

  I take her arm and help her stand. “We need to get you out of here. It isn’t safe for you here.”

  She nods, a rapid up and down motion that makes her caramel hair bob. Despite her efficient method of dealing with Enric, she’s shaking. “The Realm. We need to get to the Realm.”

  “I’ll take you there. Do you need to bring anything?”

  She taps her head and then her assassin’s ring. It’s an elaborate design with a large emerald in the middle, smaller emeralds dripping around each side like leaves on a tree interspersed with diamonds. “I have everything I need.”

  Together, we hurry down the corridor to the fire stairs. I shove the door open, directing the Guardian into the stairwell as fast as I can. But I pull up sharp when a commotion further below reaches us.

  The Guardian leans forward, whispering, “What is that?”

  A shout echoes upward, followed by a thud.

  I grimace. “It must be more of Enric’s men. Stay behind me.”

  I can’t use my wings now that the Guardian is watching, and I can’t blur because I need her to know where I am. That’s going to make it harder to fight but by no means impossible.

  I brace as two figures race up the stairs. Two more assholes. They just keep coming. I push the Guardian behind me and prepare to unleash my fury on them.

  When the first guy reaches me, I duck his fist and thump him in the chest, kicking the second in the face so hard he slams up against the staircase railing and almost falls over it before a third figure speeds up the stairs behind him.

  A wash of silver light precedes the newcomer, a luminous form that takes my breath away.

  Slade deftly navigates the steps while ramming a needle into the neck of one of the men and another needle into the thigh of the other. Both men spin and wobble on the stairs, clutching and grabbing at the syringes before collapsing onto the steps as if they’ve had too much to drink.

  Seconds later, they’re unconscious.

  Slade draws to a halt in front of me, the silver aura around him settling into the space between us, his blue eyes nearly overcome with silver flecks, hardly any blue left. Unlike me, he’s dressed for the occasion, wearing full combat gear and a protective suit. A row of twenty syringes rests in a harness strapped across his broad chest. My lips part as I inhale the power around him.

  Dean and Vlad were right: Slade’s strength is growing.

  He asks, “Is the Guardian okay?”

  I shift to reveal her, taking a moment to find my voice. “Yes.”

  “I’m here,” the Guardian says. “I’m alive because of Hunter.”

  Slade gives me a quick nod of appreciation.

  I point to the needles he used to subdue the thugs. “What are those?”

  “Tranquilizers. Since we’re not allowed to kill them.”

  “That’s clever.” I hide a sigh and make a mental note to talk to Willow about getting some. It would be so much easier than what I just went through.

  Slade’s attention shifts to the Guardian, becoming stern and commanding. “Guardian, you need to come to the Realm.”

  She nods rapidly. “That’s where we were going.”

  Slade freezes. “We?”

  I say, “I’m taking her there.”

  He draws the Guardian to his side, firmly placing her on the step beside him, but his open palm slams out between us like a giant stop sign. The power flashes in his eyes, a deep burn that calls me closer at the same time as his open palm tells me to stay away.

  The moment I step forward, inches away from pressing into his hand, he says, “No, Hunter.”

  I stare in confusion at the contradictions streaming from his body and voice. The aura around him calls me like a song in the quiet of night, but his outstretched hand and what he said are rejecting me as firmly as possible.

  Regardless of what he’s saying, he’ll need help getting the Guardian to the Realm. I know for certain that I can take bullets without dying but I’m not sure about Slade. “You’ll need backup on the way. There are more of those assholes—”

  “We’ll be fine.” He tilts his head. He’s sensing the same thing I am: the men upstairs are reviving.

  He says, “Guardian, we need to go.”

  She casts worried glances between us, but she has no say about whom he allows into the Realm. My heart beats far too fast inside my chest as I finally realize that he meant it last night when he said he wouldn’t be seen with me.

  He really… actually… meant it.

  My mouth is dry and my stomach sinks as I whisper, “You’re not going to let me into the Realm again, are you?”

  He pauses, half-turned toward me. Half-turned away. One of his fists clenches, his power flashes again, and for the briefest moment, he squeezes his eyes closed before opening them again to look me straight in the eye.

  He says, “No.”

  The air whooshes out of my lungs because his resolute response hurts. It hurts more than the bullets.

  Dean told me I had to bridge the gap with Slade. I was sure that I’d started to do that last night when I revealed the secret of the Clave to him, but if anything, I’ve made the gap worse. Still, Slade promised to help me find the violet-eyed woman. He can’t push me away forever if he’s going to keep his promise.

  Anger rises like a tide inside me. “You promised to help me.”

  He knows exactly what I’m talking about but he won’t reveal it in front of the Guardian. “I will, Hunter. I’ll send a message through Briar if I find what you’re looking for.”

  He spins away from me, but I snag his arm, my hand whipping out faster than any human should be able to move. I place all my strength into it, sensing his power rush to the surface in response. He pulls away from me with the sa
me force that I’m using to try to make him listen to me.

  The Guardian wisely steps clear of us, navigating around the thugs’ prone bodies to find a clear patch of steps to stand on.

  I grind out, “Slade, if you keep the Guardian at the Realm, then you can’t deny me entrance. I need to see her as much as any other assassin.”

  He stares at my hand. His expression is as hard as stone. Power bursts alive in his eyes, responding to mine, and his eyes becoming silver pools.

  He suddenly stops trying to pull away and pushes instead, moving toward me so rapidly that I end up pressed against the wall, balancing on a single step, his body pressed against mine, chest to chest and thigh to thigh, my hand clamped on his arm but pressed down at our sides.

  My senses explode at his nearness. I gasp for air. Heat burns through my chest and legs, unbearable, tingling… overpowering need…

  It takes all my self-control not to tilt my head back with a moan.

  Damn him. No wonder Mom didn’t want me to have this weakness.

  His deep growl washes over me. “Yes, I can.”

  I fight the sensations running the length of my body, grasping at all the logical reasons why he can’t keep me out of the Realm forever. “What about when I need a mission sanctioned?”

  His mouth is inches from mine, a husky whisper. “Send Briar. The Guardian can direct a message back to you.”

  “But…”

  His hand brushes the side of my thigh, sending a powerful shiver through me. My breathing is too rapid for him not to notice. So is his for that matter…

  His jaw clenches. “You trust Briar, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but—”

  He shifts away from me, lifting his body from mine. I shake my head, trying to clear it. My chest heaves. My voice tears out of my throat. “Stop pushing me away.”

  For the merest second, the power in his eyes deepens and his gaze intensifies beyond anything I ever imagined. Then his expression becomes a storm of emotions I wasn’t expecting: confusion, need, and last of all pain.

  Then nothing. A blank slate.

  He says, “You pushed first.”

  He steps backward with such a sudden burst of power that I have no choice but to open my fingers and release him.

  I thought I was the one who built a wall, but Dean was right. Slade’s is higher and wider than anything I ever imagined.

  Confusion swamps me. I’ve replayed the final moments on Mount Greylock so many times: revealing my wings, fighting Gareth, telling Slade the truth, and then he told me to leave…

  “When?” I whisper. When did I push him away?

  But Slade isn’t looking at me anymore. He’s frozen, staring at a spot on the wall behind me. He stands as still as stone, not responding, and it’s cracking my heart all over again.

  “Damn you, Slade, look at me. When did I push you away? Please… answer me.”

  He isn’t listening to me. His lips part. The tension increases around his eyes, his power fluctuating. An incredulous frown descends across his forehead.

  He murmurs, “She said she was alive because of you.”

  I don’t understand what he’s talking about. The Guardian maybe?

  He finally meets my eyes, fierce alarm hijacking his expression. He looks like he’s about to grab me as he demands, “How many bullets did you take?”

  I freeze. Then I twist to see what he’s looking at.

  A large smear of blood stretches across the wall. It’s the size of my back. Impossible to miss. I must have left it there when I pressed against the wall just now.

  My back is bleeding. Badly. I’m not in good shape, but I’m alive, and… damn… he asked me a question so now I have to tell him the truth. If we were alone, that wouldn’t be a problem, but the Guardian is listening to every word we say. When I tell him how many bullets I took, she’s going to wonder how I’m still alive.

  “Ten. Six still inside me.”

  His eyes widen. “Ten.”

  Oh, now he’s done it.

  I glare at Slade, gritting my teeth. He compelled me to say out loud that I’ve survived an extraordinary number of bullets—too many for a human being. And then he had to go and repeat it just to emphasize the point.

  The Guardian races up the steps toward us at a cracking pace. She exclaims, “Ten! But you’re not wearing protective gear. How are you still standing?”

  Luckily, I’m not compelled to answer that question. If I’d known I would encounter bullets today, I would have slipped on my assassin’s suit instead of my favorite jeans. I sigh inwardly. I wonder if Willow can make me a crystal ball?

  I was completely prepared to take the Guardian to the Realm as long as nobody knew I was hurt. I planned to get her there safely and then leave. But now the Guardian knows I’m injured and she’ll insist that one of the Realm’s doctors takes a look at me. Surviving cuts and bruises during training is one thing. Explaining to someone how I’m still alive after several bullets hit my major internal organs is another.

  The truth is… I don’t feel so good. It’s nothing like the pain of taking the death-blow yesterday, but my body aches all over. I’m trying to heal but I need to get the bullets out. I pulled enough bullets out of Mom to know that I’ve got an hour tops before removing objects gets tricky.

  Slade can’t seem to tear his eyes off the giant smear on the wall.

  The Guardian snaps. “Slade! I have no idea how Hunter is still alive right now but she clearly needs medical help.” She points accusingly at the evidence on the wall. “The Realm is closer than Saber Lane. She’s coming with us or I will hold you personally responsible.”

  I groan inside. What the Guardian doesn’t know is that I would be better off returning to Saber Lane. William will be able to help me and he won’t ask difficult questions because he already knows the answers.

  I just wanted to get her to safety… Now I’m trapped…

  Slade presses his lips together, leans forward, and plants one hand on the wall beside my head as if he needs to anchor himself somewhere. He once came to me riddled with bullets. My choices after that changed his life.

  His voice lowers, softer than before. “Can you walk?”

  I respond with a dangerous murmur, “Slade, I can run if you need me to. I’ll come to the Realm but as soon as the Guardian is safe, I’m leaving. I never intended to stay.”

  He lowers his voice even further. “The Guardian is right. You need someone to help you—”

  “I can fish out my own damn bullets, do you understand me? If I can’t… I’ll ask William for help.”

  A muscle in the side of his jaw ticks. “We’ll see. Come on. We need to move.”

  I glare at his back as he takes the Guardian’s arm again and hurries her down the steps. She barely has time to check that I’m following before he whisks her around the corner of the stairwell. She looks angry that he isn’t helping me, but I’m glad he isn’t. I don’t need his help.

  I hurry after them, listening out for our attackers. At minimum, they will send a clean up crew to tend to their wounded. That’s if Lady Tirelli doesn’t reward failure with a final bullet.

  We exit the building through the back and I stay close to Slade as he maneuvers the Guardian along the street. One good thing about my red jacket is that it’s hiding the blood pooling down my back. Down my front now, too.

  Five steps down the busy street, two guys peel off from the side of a building across the road. Two more are already following us on this side of the street.

  I nudge up to Slade. “Two behind us. Two to the right.”

  He says, “I see them. Take the Guardian.”

  We switch places and I walk on the Guardian’s right hand side, forming a body shield between her and the thugs. Behind me, Slade veers into a shadow beneath a shop awning and then disappears completely. He’s blurring. I can see it—the silver haze in the air—but nobody else can. In the next moment, the two guys behind us are suddenly propelled into the nearest alleyway a
s he barrels into both of them like a bulldozer. They don’t come out again.

  The ones coming at us from the other side of the street pick up their pace, racing after us now. They don’t attempt to hide their weapons—guns with silencers so at least there won’t be mass panic.

  I grab the Guardian and pull her into a run. It’s conspicuous and alarms the people around us, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

  The Guardian launches into a quick sprint and I bet she’s wishing she was dressed in jeans instead of her usual dress as the material flaps around her legs. I stay close, maintaining the shield I’ve formed with my body. We’re only a hundred paces from the Realm now.

  Oomph.

  I shudder and jolt, stumble, but keep going.

  The bullets were quiet. But at least they didn’t hit the Guardian.

  She gasps, half-turning, still running, eyes widening at the blood now splattering the pavement. “Hunter? Oh my…!”

  “Keep going!”

  She looks like she’s about to scream but she keeps running. The distressed look she gives me tells me she thinks I’m going to die any moment now.

  I won’t, but I hope I don’t pass out.

  A second later, the two guys who shot at us suddenly disappear in a silver haze. I don’t have time to look back and see what Slade does to them, but our backs are finally safe.

  The Guardian reaches the memorial plaque before me. She slaps her hand against it and her point of focus changes. The Realm must have appeared for her, but it won’t appear for me and I can’t touch the memorial. I’ve been locked out.

  I need her to be safe so I shout, “Go!”

  She disappears as she steps inside.

  I skid to a halt next to the memorial. I’m not normally winded from running but I guess twelve bullets will do that to me. I lean over, palms on my knees, my vision blurring for the first time. Running has tipped me over the edge and I’m not sure if I’ll make it back to Saber Lane.

  A hand lands on my shoulder.

  I jolt backward, grab the hand and twist it, my fist flying out in a defensive move while I hold tight to stop him grabbing me anywhere else.