Assassin's Mask

by Everly Frost

  He snarls, “You’ve seen what Lady Tirelli can do. She destroyed the Legion. You will hand over the feather, the verdan, and the books, before more of your friends die.”

  I scoff, “Who says you killed my friends? I hated those assholes in the Legion. Especially Superior Lincoln.”

  Oh, how cruelly the lies slip from my tongue. Superior Lincoln was the kindest teacher in the entire Realm. He even pulled Lutz into line on the first day. Even Ridley, who knew I was his daughter, was relentlessly harsh and never went easy on me, but Lincoln was always fair.

  Gareth’s expression hardens when his taunt washes off me.

  Fallon twitches, and a creeping sensation slithers up my spine. His earthy brown eyes shimmer with power. He is already trying to get inside our minds. His eyebrows draw down into a frustrated frown, a hiss emitting from his lips. He can’t get inside Slade’s mind this time. Nor Vlad’s for that matter.

  Vlad glares at Fallon. “I warned you never to come back here. You will not leave with the use of your limbs this time.”

  Gareth barks, “Last chance, Hunter. You can’t kill us but we don’t obey the Code anymore. We will kill anyone who gets in our way. Give me the feather! Or Lady Tirelli will tear down your world.”

  I take a step toward him, tightening my grip on my sword. “If she wants it, she can fight me for it!”

  Gareth’s expression darkens. The energy around him is like the dead of night, making me shudder.

  He snaps, “She will reveal herself at a time and place of her choosing.”

  My eyes narrow. It had better be tonight. I can’t go another day knowing that woman is alive. “Then she’s a coward.”

  He flexes his fingers. He’s wearing his old assassin’s ring on the forefinger of his right hand, since there is a conspicuous gap where I removed the forefinger of his left.

  His declaration is cold and clear. “You’ve brought a world of pain down on yourself—and everyone you love.”

  I stride toward him, unsheathing my katana. “I don’t fear you.”

  I swing the sword, knowing full well that he will use his power to deflect it, but that’s exactly what I want him to do.

  As soon as his focus shifts to my sword, I blur to disorient him, grab a tranquilizer, and aim it for his neck.

  Gareth is already shouting to his men, “Shoot them!”

  A storm of bullets forces me to jump out of my previous position before I can tranquilize him.

  Slade goes straight for Gareth in my absence and Vlad confronts Fallon. They’re smart—as long as they stay near the assassins, the men won’t shoot at them. Nobody will risk blurring for fear of being accidentally shot.

  Well, nobody but me.

  I take a moment to assess where I’m needed.

  Fallon darts to the side, slinging lines of icy flame at Vlad, but Vlad retaliates with his own power, his assassin’s magic taking the form of ebony needles that spear the air like darts, forcing Fallon to flee as the darts track his path.

  Briar dashes around a path of bullets, slides on her knees, and slams a tranquilizer into the leg of one of our attackers before racing out of the line of fire again. The man takes a step, wobbles, and thuds to the ground. Willow wasn’t mucking around with the meds.

  Nearby, Slade’s body is lit with silver, his movements a blur as he lands blow after blow on Gareth. Gareth doesn’t have the Keres ring this time but he is agile, darting back and forth, his power colliding with Slade’s. The impact of their fight cracks the pavement, unsettling the men with guns and forcing them to stay clear.

  While Slade and Vlad keep Gareth and Fallon busy, I focus on the rest of the men. I quickly sheath my sword, remain blurred, and release my wings, swooping on the men while they can’t see me.

  I succeed in tranquilizing two of them before a barrage of bullets sweeps my way. I have far more room to maneuver than I did when I confronted Enric Tirelli in the hotel corridor. I easily evade the projectiles, but these guys are coordinated and skilled. They group themselves in a protective circle, facing outward, ready for me to come at them from any direction. As soon as I jab one of them, they know where to shoot. Subduing them one by one is taking too long. I need some sort of crossbow or…

  Just then, Ridley and Lutz appear, running straight through the brick wall. As soon as they pass through it, they spin and stare at it. It’s only visible from our side so it takes them by surprise.

  They recover quickly, pulling protective face masks over their heads. Only their eyes are visible now. To my surprise, the Guardian is with them, her features drawn and tense. Her hair is pulled back into a tight ponytail and she is wearing protective gear. She isn’t shaking anymore. In fact, quite the opposite. As she tugs on her face mask, she races right at the huddled men.

  She has a crossbow.

  I grin as she drops beneath a spray of bullets and aims it at the man firing at Lutz, tranquilizing the guy cleanly in the chest. Lutz zigzags along the street with Ridley, both men moving at a lithe blur. They seem to have some sort of silent communication going on because they both run straight for the huddle of invaders, barreling into the men at full speed, shooting tranquilizer darts as they go.

  I spin and check the fighting behind me. Vlad has raced away from Fallon to intercept a handful of men who have taken the knife fight to Briar. She spins and whirls, deflecting their weapons, but she’s outnumbered. I hear the crunches as Vlad breaks arms and legs in powerful strokes.

  Slade is keeping Gareth busy, but the older man evades Slade’s every attempt to tranquilize him, using his power to absorb the impact of Slade’s fists. Even so, Slade predicts every move Gareth makes and the older man is visibly tiring. He won’t last much longer against Slade.

  As I materialize again, Slade shouts, “Hunter! Get Fallon!”

  I spin to locate the oily assassin. He creeps along the street toward the vicinity of the bookshop. He must think the books and feather are there and that he can steal them during the fight. He presses against the brick wall as he proceeds as if he’s looking for a weakness.

  I grab a tranquilizer and race toward him.

  As soon as Fallon sees me, he flings fire at me, narrowly missing my face.

  My aim is quicker, the dart sailing through the air. It flies right through his arm... and emerges out the other side. It hits the brick wall.

  What?

  Fallon’s image flickers before my eyes.

  Cold fear shoots through me, freezing the blood in my veins.

  I reach for my sword as I close the gap. It glints as I swing it straight through Fallon’s torso, a blow that would finish him…

  If he was really standing in front of me.

  Fallon’s laughter echoes around me. “Oh, dear. You figured it out.”

  He’s not really here.

  He was never here.

  Gareth and Fallon came for the feather and the books. They don’t know that the feather doesn’t exist anymore, but they do know that William has the books. I spin to the fight between Gareth and Slade. Every move Gareth makes is defensive. He’s not attacking. He’s keeping Slade busy. He’s… stalling.

  If Fallon was never in front of us then he was here before Slade put up the wall. Which means he could have the books already. His threats about hurting my friends are like a dagger in my heart.

  I have to get to William!

  I race toward the end of the street, slamming a fist into the nearest man, knocking him out of my way. My feet pound the pavement. My heart is in my throat. Reaching the end of the lane, I thud against the brick wall in front of the dojo, kicking it and smashing my fists against it. I put all my power into the blows, trying to get through, but it doesn’t budge. Slade made it strong.

  I scream, “Slade! The wall!” My fists are bleeding, my fear unbearable. “Take it down! Slade!”

  “Hunter!” He shouts my name and a second later, the wall disappears.

  I stumble forward, swiftly taking the stairs up to the porch.

&nbs
p; The dojo doors are wide open in front of me.

  Blood spatters the floor. Tansy lies half across the porch, half inside the room, a gash on her forehead. The rise and fall of her chest tells me she’s alive, but barely.

  Drake’s prone body rests further inside the room but he’s facing away from me and I can’t tell if he’s alive or dead. All of my friends, including Willow and Christopher James, are herded into the back of the room, huddled on their knees, their arms and legs tied with ropes made from assassin’s magic. Their faces are pale with shock and fear.

  In the center of the room, Fallon grips William by the throat. He has forced William to his knees, binding him with ropes of flaming light that pull his hands behind his back. The ropes extend to William’s ankles, immobilizing him.

  With one hand, Fallon digs his fingernails into William’s windpipe.

  With the other, he presses a gun to William’s temple.

  They are seven paces away. Seven steps too far. A tranquilizer won’t work fast enough to stop Fallon pulling the trigger.

  He says, “We warned you, Hunter.”

  No. Please.

  My ears buzz. My focus narrows. Every breath stretches out, the seconds far too short, the beat of my heart too loud.

  William tries to speak against the pressure around his throat. He captures my gaze, insistent, needing me to hear him. “Remember… Just because you’re born into darkness…”

  I burst into action, racing across the distance.

  I will stop Fallon. I will take the gun. I will stop—

  A deafening sound splits my hearing as I slam into Fallon, flinging him across the room. He thuds against the wall, winded, falling in a heap on the floor, his dark hair lank across his eyes, but he’s laughing…

  A cry rises in my throat as William slips to the side.

  Fear screams through me. “No, William!”

  I catch him before he hits the floor. His body is heavy, limp, folding in my arms as the ropes disappear. There’s so much blood. So much on the floor and on my hands. I try to hold him upright, try to see his face, try to help him stand, pulling at him even though he slips in my arms… until I realize…

  He’s already gone.

  I scream, shock and grief building like a tornado inside me. William was a father to me. A friend. A guiding light. I can’t lose him.

  “No, please. William! Wake up!”

  I pull him upright. I have to… he has to stand up. He has to open his eyes.

  I drop to my knees, holding him against me, willing him to be alive, trying to support his torso, his head… screaming while Fallon draws to his feet, pushing the strands of his hair out of his eyes.

  He’s still laughing, snarling, “You should have given us the feather. I will keep killing your friends until you give us what we want.”

  Fallon.

  Cold like winter washes through me, numbing every cell in my body. The blood reminds me of Mom. William’s final words remind me of Mom. Fallon laughed about Mom, too.

  Fallon who is afraid of enclosed spaces, who grew up in darkness and never overcame it.

  Someone shouts my name. “Hunter!”

  It’s Slade. I sense his presence approaching fast. He’s running toward me but he won’t reach me in time to stop me.

  I lay William gently on the floor and rise to my feet, the sobs dying in my throat, my focus narrowing until it is pinpoint. Silence falls around me and everything fades into the background. I narrow my eyes and lower my head. My power shrieks through me and my back shifts, preparing to release my wings.

  I restrain it.

  I am in control.

  My heart burns with ice, my hands burn with fire, liquid rage pulses through me, pumping inside me like a hammer beating hard. I take one deliberate step in front of the other.

  Fallon hiccups and swallows, scrambling backward, pressing against the wall as he scoots along it. “You won’t kill me. You’re not allowed to.”

  I am not afraid. I am not sad.

  I’m angry.

  The space darkens around me, my power absorbs the light around us, and my killing energy crackles through my hands. “You will end today.”

  I wrap one hand around his throat, drawing him upright, squeezing, calling on my power as he struggles against me. He thumps at my chest, kicks at my legs, releases all of his assassin’s magic into me. Sapphire flames curl around me as he conjures them, but I don’t feel a thing.

  Another voice shouts behind me but I barely hear it. “No, Hunter!”

  I don’t care about the Code. I don’t care about the rules. Let them hunt me down. Let them come for me.

  Fallon will not breathe another second of air on this earth.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  There’s a whoosh beside me, followed by another.

  Thud-thud.

  I inhale with a jolt. My hand slides from Fallon’s throat but he remains where he is, his eyes wide and vacant. He is pinned to the wall by the dagger in his shoulder, killed by the dagger to his forehead.

  I stumble backward.

  The initials on the two daggers are not Slade’s.

  I spin as everything speeds up around me.

  Briar stands behind me, her chest heaving, her hands shaking.

  She whispers, “He had to die. But not by your hand.”

  Slade is a powerful blur as he races across the porch, sliding to a halt beside me, taking in the bloody scene within seconds. His gaze lands on William and his face pales. “Hunter…”

  My chest is heaving and my power ripples around me. Slade knows better than to try to take me in his arms right now. He doesn’t try to soothe me with words or actions. Instead he growls with deep threat, “Lady Tirelli will pay.”

  A shriek from the floor snaps my attention to Tansy.

  “William?” She drags herself to William’s body as the wound on her forehead heals rapidly now that she’s awake. “William? No… please, no!”

  She lifts his head into her hands, her lips parting, a shriek growing on her lips. “William!”

  Everyone huddled in the back of the dojo is sobbing and clinging to each other.

  Tansy’s gaze sweeps over them before she inhales, her breath shrieking into her lungs, her ferocious gaze landing on Fallon.

  He is already dead. There is no vengeance for her.

  An oppressive force grows around Tansy, a darkness beyond anything I’ve felt before. It is a power so immense that it beats into me like a fist, driving Slade and I backward as she strides across the porch and down the stairs where the fighting continues.

  Vlad shouts her name but she doesn’t respond.

  She stops on the pavement, screaming, “This is my street. This is my home.”

  She lifts her hands, a wild wind growing around her, the air crackling with her magic. It builds so fast that it’s a tidal wave rushing around me, an enormous force that she lets loose, shrieking, “You will not step foot here again!”

  Air streams around her, whistling and weaving around the attackers, picking them up and forcing them backward. They dig their heels in and try to cling to anything they can, but the storm picks them up like trash, flinging them away from us, slamming them into Slade’s brick wall.

  Crunch. They shout and scream against the force that presses into their lungs, threatening to snap their bones. The unconscious men we tranquilized fly with them.

  Slade’s wide eyes meet mine. With a flicker of his assassin’s magic, he removes the final walls of the sub-Realm he created.

  Gareth tumbles out with the others, ending up clinging to a lamp post before the force halts, allowing him to get back to his feet.

  He rages forward, hitting an invisible wall and bouncing off it. He tries again in another spot, but the shield Tansy created stretches from one side of the entrance to the other. No matter how much magic Gareth throws at it, he can’t get through. He slams his fist against the barrier one last time before he seems to realize that he’s not invisible to the outside w
orld anymore.

  With a frustrated gesture for the men to follow, he strides away. The conscious men pick up their sleeping comrades and hurry after him.

  Only Vlad, Lutz, Ridley, and the Guardian remain inside the lane.

  I’ve never seen magic like this, never felt it before. It lingers in the air around me as Tansy drops her arms to her sides, her shoulders slumping, her legs wobbling.

  Vlad runs to her, wrapping his big arms around her. “Tansy?”

  She tips her head back to see him, her hair falling across his arms. She’s tall, but Vlad is a giant.

  She is wooden, her voice mechanical. “I’ve placed a permanent protective shield around Saber Lane. Nobody with ill intentions will ever step foot here again.”

  “But… are you okay?”

  “No… I’m not…” Her knees give way but Vlad holds her tight, pulling her close. He meets my eyes over the top of her head.

  I stumble over to the porch railing, gripping it hard as Slade murmurs, “Who killed Fallon? Please tell me it wasn’t you.”

  He is terrified that I will be hunted now. Fear is etched in every tense line of his face and the desperate angle of his shoulders as if he’s ready to jump in front of me if he has to.

  Briar steps into the light. “It was me.”

  The Guardian, Lutz, and Ridley gather at the dojo’s steps while Vlad helps Tansy walk to our position. Inside the room, the occupants of Saber Lane have gathered around William now that their bindings have disappeared. Some kneel, others stand.

  Dean holds William’s hand. Dean’s eyes are closed, his lips nearly blue with pain. Willow wraps an arm around him, rubbing his arms to try to warm him. Drake has recovered but he and Christopher James are in shock, standing back from the others, staring at nothing.

  I want to get them all out of here, tell them they’re safe now, but the tension in the Guardian’s posture tells me I shouldn’t make a move.

  She climbs the stairs to examine the knife that killed Fallon. I’m not sure how she can stand to look at him. I refuse to.