Child of the Night Guild (Queen of Thieves Book 1)

by Andy Peloquin

  How was I so foolish to believe I could make a place in the Night Guild? A woman, surrounded by men. If Sabat, an apprentice, could hurt her so, what would happen now that she was a full Journeyman? Would others do the same to her? Is this my future?

  Hopelessness rendered her immobile. She couldn’t move, any more than she could bring Ethen back to life.

  Sabat had killed both of them that night.

  * * *

  “I can’t believe it!” Denber paced around the room, hands flying. “They’re not going to do a damned thing about him.”

  In the two weeks since Ethen’s death, Ilanna hadn’t broken her silence. She lay deathly still, only her eyes moving.

  “He’s been bragging all through House Bloodbear about ‘putting you in your place’. And he’s being smart about it.” He growled. “Bastard keeps his mouth shut when the House Masters or Journeymen are around. But when he’s with the apprentices, he can’t stop talking about ‘teaching you a lesson’.”

  Though the pain had faded, the shame and humiliation remained. She couldn’t meet Denber’s eyes—couldn’t meet any of her companions’ eyes. Not after what Sabat had done. He’d disgraced her beyond anything the others could understand. They would never know what it meant to be violated the way Sabat had violated her.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, but the leering face returned. Sabat’s harsh whisper echoed in her mind. “Remember, little Hawk: you deserve this.”

  Angry tears slipped down her cheeks. What did I do to deserve THAT? She’d humiliated him in front of his peers, but that had happened years ago. Was it all because she’d refused to cower in fear?

  No. It’s not my fault. It’s yours, you twisted bastard! He had chosen to harm her, to take out his anger and frustration on her. Could she have done something to prevent it? If so, what? She’d replayed that night over and over again in her head, and could find no answer.

  Denber was still speaking. “Worst of all, because he’s an apprentice, there is to be no formal inquiry into his actions. Everyone knows he did it, but there’s no proof.”

  The Night Guild’s one rule: don’t get caught. The Guild would do nothing unless she could prove what he had done. It didn’t matter that she was a Journeyman and he an apprentice. With no witnesses, it’s my word against his.

  “Don’t you understand, Ilanna? He’s going to get away with it!”

  Ilanna offered no reply. Scowling, Denber stormed out, snarling curses and slamming the door behind him.

  A maelstrom seethed in Ilanna’s mind. He can’t go unpunished. Not after what he did to me and to Ethen.

  But what could she do? How could she stop it from happening again? She’d been powerless to stop him that night. She couldn’t match his size or strength. He’d proved that. He’d made her his victim.

  What, then? He can’t get off that easy. She needed justice for his actions. If not justice, vengeance. What he’d done could never be forgiven or forgotten. If the Night Guild wouldn’t act, she would take matters into her own hands.

  For the first time in weeks, Ilanna spoke. “I…will do…what…I…must.”

  The words came out in a cracked, weak murmur, but the sound of her voice filled her with determination. “I…will…live…one more day.” She whispered the words over and over.

  The fire of fury coursed through her veins. Her head spun as she sat up, but she gritted her teeth against the nausea and pain. Weak from eating next to nothing, she could hardly stand. Her legs trembled as she forced herself to her feet.

  I will be his last victim. For too long, the Night Guild had allowed him to act without consequence. Now, he’d gone too far. He’d taken everything from her. He will answer for his crimes.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Ilanna’s stomach churned at the familiar stench of her old house. Beneath the sour odor of dust, the reek of the rotting corpse filled the kitchen. She forced herself not to flinch as a shadow fell across the doorway.

  “I got your message, girl. What do you want?”

  Ilanna stood beside her mother’s stuffed couch, her eyes downcast, hands clasped meekly by her side. “I-I…” She didn’t lift her gaze to meet Sabat’s.

  The Bloodbear said nothing for a long time. “I’m not going to lie. Your note came as a bit of a surprise. From what I know about you…”

  Ilanna remained silent. Her message should have convinced him of what she wanted. She’d all but spelled it out for him.

  “But it’s like Father always said, ‘Show a woman her place and she’ll be grateful for it.’” He seized her chin and twisted her face up toward him. He glared at her, his eyes wary. “Is that the case, little Hawkling? Did my lesson sink home? Have you learned your place in the world?”

  “Y-Yes,” Ilanna whispered. “Please, Sabat, I…” She licked her lips, suppressing a shudder at his touch.

  His skeptical expression slowly turned to triumph. “You want it, don’t you?” He pressed himself against her.

  Ilanna nodded and her lips parted. “Y-Yes…”

  Sabat leered at her, seizing her roughly by the throat. “Sick of your weak little Scorpion, are you? You’ve gotten a taste for a real man.”

  Ilanna’s eyelids drooped, her breath coming in shallow pants. “Please. Please, Sabat.”

  Sabat’s lips crushed hers, his breath fetid and reeking of liquor. His hands roamed down her back. He pawed at her, making no effort to be gentle. He broke away after what seemed an eternity, his shallow breathing matching hers. She could feel him hard against her leg. “Well, well, little Hawkling. I’d say I’m surprised, but that’d be a lie. Father always did have a way with whores.”

  Ilanna dropped her gaze, hunching her shoulders.

  “Oh, did that word offend you?”

  She shook her head. Her fingernails dug into her arms, her knuckles turning white.

  “Of course not.” He whispered in her ear, his breath hot, his voice harsh. “Because that’s exactly what you are, isn’t that right, little Hawkling?”

  Ilanna nodded. “Y-Yes…”

  He bit her ear roughly, fondling her chest and rubbing himself against her.

  “W-Wait,” Ilanna gasped. “Y-You’re sure no one will find us?” Only one person knew where she was.

  Sabat raised an eyebrow. “Here? In this dump? This is the last place people will expect to find either of us!”

  “Does anyone know?”

  Sabat studied her, a hint of wariness returning to his expression. “What?”

  “I-I…” She swallowed. “I don’t want the Hawks…” She trailed off.

  “Don’t want them to know what a slut you are, is that right?”

  Ilanna dropped her eyes again.

  Sabat chuckled. “Don’t worry, little Hawkling. I told no one and no one saw the note delivered. This will be our little secret.”

  Ilanna met his eyes now, an eager smile on her face. “Good!” She lifted her hands as if to touch him, but dropped them by her side.

  Sabat grinned at her, eyeing her up and down. “Don’t be afraid, girl. Now that I’ve taught you your place, I’ll show you other things. Things you’ve never imagined.” He trailed a rough finger down her bare arms. “Perhaps you’ll even come to enjoy it.

  “I-I…” Her skin crawled at his touch. Don’t let him see.

  His hand grasped her throat, cutting off her words. “Though what would be the fun in that, eh? In the end, you’re nothing but a cheap lay. Not even a particularly good-looking one, mind you.” His gaze roamed her face, still swollen and yellowed by bruises. “Right now, I’d find a sack of dog shite more appealing. But I guess we must make do with what we’ve got, eh?”

  Ilanna dropped her eyes. “I-I’m sorry, Sabat.”

  “Call me ‘Master’, girl.” He squeezed tighter.

  She gasped for air. “I-I’m sorry, Master.”

  A leering grin broadened his face and he licked his lips. “Good. Now let’s get you out of those clothes.” He reached for her thin shi
rt and tunic.

  “I-I hope you don’t mind…” She met his gaze.

  “What?”

  “I thought you might be…hungry.”

  He raised a suspicious eyebrow. “You did, did you?”

  Ilanna nodded. “I brought bread and cheese, and wine. I thought, maybe…”

  Sabat snarled. “Thought you’d poison me, did you?” He raised his hand to strike her and Ilanna cowered.

  “No! I would never! Please!”

  The blow never fell. Ilanna risked a glance at Sabat. His eyes remained narrowed.

  Ilanna gasped, “I just wanted to please you!” She fell to her knees, shaking and sobbing, one hand clasped over her face, the other clinging to his belt. Seconds ticked by, the silence broken only by Ilanna’s sobs.

  “Enough, girl! Keeper’s teeth, that racket is enough to make any man go soft.” He hauled her roughly to her feet and shook her. Ilanna fell silent, face buried in her hands. “Bring me the food and wine.”

  Ilanna turned and shuffled to the small table beside the stuffed couch, her shoulders hunched protectively. Hands trembling, she poured the wine into the simple clay cup and passed it to him.

  He glared at her. “Drink.”

  Without hesitation, Ilanna emptied the contents of the cup.

  “Not all of it, girl!” Sabat struck her head, hard. “You were to prove it wasn’t poisoned, not down the whole thing. Serve me more!”

  Ilanna complied. The shaking of her hands sent the wine splashing over her thin tunic and she gasped. Setting down the pitcher, she dabbed at her garment.

  Sabat leered. “Leave it! It’ll come off in a moment anyways. Now hand me the wine.”

  Ilanna obeyed.

  The Bloodbear glanced at it for a moment and drained it in one draught. “Another.” He thrust the cup toward her. Ilanna refilled it and Sabat emptied it. “Food.”

  He tore into the bread and cheese like he hadn’t eaten for days, smacking and grunting. “Cheese tastes like goat turds. Bread is harder than a brick, too.”

  Ilanna cringed beneath his glare, whimpering and covering her face with her hands.

  “Enough, little Hawkling. Time for pleasure.”

  Sabat fumbled at his belt with one hand. “There.” He thrust his chin toward the stuffed couch.

  Ilanna sat and lay back, opening her legs.

  “Not like that!” He glared. “Hands and knees. I don’t want to have to see your face, not all banged up.”

  She complied. It will soon be over.

  Sabat’s belt clattered to the floor and he pawed at her clothing. “Let’s get this off you, little whore. It’ll only get in the—” His words cut off with a wheeze.

  A feral grin curled Ilanna’s lips. She climbed to her feet, in no hurry.

  Behind her, Sabat was on his knees, clutching at his throat. “What…did…you…do?” He gasped, struggling for each labored breath.

  Ilanna raised an eyebrow. “Hmm? Oh, you mean this? Can’t handle your poison well, can you?” She stooped and retrieved the discarded cup of wine. “If you weren’t so bloody stupid, you might have noticed me slipping it in.”

  Sabat’s eyes widened at sight of the cup. “You…whore!”

  With a snarl, Ilanna kicked him between the legs, hard. His body thumped to the floor, hands clutching his groin.

  “You disgusting piece of filth! How dare you lay a finger on me?” She crouched over him, teeth bared. An inferno raged in her chest. “And you believed it would be that easy?”

  Pitiful mewls of agony escaped his lips and tears streamed down his cheeks.

  “You think I’m weak because I’m not a man like you? You think that you can beat me into submission? That I’ll cower and do whatever you want?”

  Sabat tried in vain to choke out words. His breath came in wet, ragged gasps.

  “I’ve dreamed of this day a hundred times, a thousand. Sitting beside Ethen’s bed, I watched you die over and over. This, Sabat, this is a mercy compared to some of the things I contemplated doing to you.” She toyed with the handle of the clay pitcher. “And yet, I never imagined how satisfying this would feel!”

  Her face contorted into a mask of animal rage and she smashed the jar into his face. Cartilage crunched beneath the impact of shattering crockery. Wine splashed over him, mixing with the blood dripping from his lips and nose.

  “And you weren’t content to just take Ethen from me, oh no!” She knelt atop his chest, teeth bared in a snarl. “But you went too far.”

  Reaching beneath the stuffed cushions, she drew a knife—one of the dozens of weapons she’d hidden around the house in the last months. A shocked gasp escaped Sabat’s lips. Recognition flashed in his eyes, replaced a moment later by fear.

  A wicked smile played on Ilanna’s lips. “Oh yes, you recognize this, don’t you? How many years did you wear it? How long did you dream of finding a chance to slip it between my ribs as payment for what I did to you?” She caressed the razor-sharp blade, her fingers tracing the simple pommel and the leather-wrapped grip. “But when you couldn’t do it, you had to find someone else to punish.”

  She closed her hand around the dagger and squeezed. The edge bit into her palm. The rage coursing through her drowned out the pain. She held her hand over his face. Blood splashed into his eyes, staining his pale skin. He tried to wipe it away, but the poison sapped his strength.

  Ilanna dug her knee into his throat. “You took him from me, you bastard! Now I’m going to take something from you.” Sabat gagged and choked, pawing weakly at her.

  Seizing his grasping right hand, she pressed the edge of the dagger into his forearm. He screamed as the blade carved a deep furrow in his flesh. Blood gushed from the wound.

  Ilanna pressed his left hand over the wound. “There you go. Don’t want you bleeding to death. Not yet.” Climbing to her feet, she walked around to kneel between his spasming legs.

  She met his gaze, and terror filled Sabat’s eyes. He tried in vain to form words, but his tongue had swollen and turned blue. Weak spasms shook his body; the poison she’d slipped into his drink—Ethen called it ricin—did its terrible work.

  She raised the dagger. “You’re going to feel everything, every ache, every pain, every cut.” The knife plunged into the meat of his thigh, eliciting a weak moan. “But do you know what the best part is? There won’t be a Keeper-damned thing you can do to stop it!”

  The blade sliced through his trousers. Sabat’s eyes widened and he shook his head. “D…don’t…”

  Baring her teeth in a snarl, Ilanna pushed the dagger slowly into the soft flesh between his legs. Sabat’s weak cries turned into a scream; a long, terror-filled wail of agony. She met his gaze without wavering, rage burning in her chest. With a scream of fury, Ilanna twisted the dagger and ripped it free. Blood pooled beneath Sabat and he convulsed in agony. He lay helpless, too weak to fight back.

  She stared at the misshapen, lumpy objects in her hand. “So these are what you men are so proud of?” She crouched over him, dangling them above his head. “Not much to look at, you know.”

  Sabat blubbered in agony and terror. Blood streamed from his nose, mixing with the gore dripping from his severed manhood.

  She met his gaze, pouring every shred of hatred and anger into her words. “You will find no mercy here, you bastard!”

  He tried to form words through his broken lips and swollen tongue.

  Ilanna smashed the dagger’s pommel into his face, again and again. Flesh and bone crunched beneath her blows. The pressure in her chest built until it felt as if her heart would explode. Sabat’s weak cries and wet coughs only goaded her to further rage. She climbed atop him, kneeling on his chest, dagger raised high.

  Her words came out in a whisper. “This is for Ethen.”

  The dagger descended, plunging into the flesh of Sabat’s meaty shoulder. She pulled it out slowly, relishing the groan that escaped Sabat’s lips. The knife came down again, a finger’s breadth from his heart. Tears streamed down
her face. Again. Blood sprayed from Sabat’s torn throat.

  Over and over, she drove the blade into Sabat’s body. His face, his neck, his chest—all carved to bloody ribbons beneath her terrible blade. With each plunge of the knife, Ilanna unleashed her hatred, anger and fear. But nothing could erase the image of Ethen’s broken form from her mind.

  She did this for Ethen, but it was for her, too. After this, no one would ever lay a finger on her again. No one would ever harm her as Sabat had. She would never be weak or helpless again. She would do what she must, even if it meant carving her way through a thousand Sabats.

  This was how she survived.

  Epilogue

  “Journeyman Ilanna of House Hawk, you understand why we have called you here?”

  She knew full well. She could never forget. The memory replayed in her mind. She heard Sabat’s wheezing pleas for mercy, saw the bright blood spurting from his ruined face, felt the dagger pierce him over and over. Rage had drowned out rational thought. She’d carved him to ribbons, plunging the knife into his flesh long after he’d stopped moving.

  Yet now, her fury abated, only disgust remained. Not at herself or her actions, but at him for everything he’d done. At the Night Guild for allowing it to happen. These men before her forced her hand; the fault for Sabat’s death rested on their heads.

  She met the Guild Master’s eyes. “Yes, Master Gold.” Her words came out cold as ice, hard as iron. She had no reason to bow and scrape. They had nothing on her.

  Master Hawk studied her through narrowed eyes. Master Serpent cleaned his nails with a dagger. Even Master Bloodbear showed little eagerness to continue with the proceedings.

  Master Gold leaned forward. “And have you aught to say in your defense?”

  “Defense?” She struggled to keep her expression neutral. These men—the House Masters of the Night Guild—had permitted Sabat to act unchecked. How dare they stand in judgement of me! But she couldn’t allow them to see her true feelings. She bowed to hide her disdain. “I have done nothing wrong, Master.”